I celebrated my fifteenth birthday last month, and in two years, I shall marry Edmund. Lisbeth was anxious, as the Earl of Springledge has yet to recover, and House Byron's influence and wealth slowly diminished as the days went by. She feared that by the time her fiancé, Lord Cedric Byron did inherit the position of earl, it would be reduced to a hollow position and she would have to live like a pauper. My betrothed on the other hand, had rose through the ranks and had people turn on the king and swear allegiance to him instead. Among those people were the people who were noble to my father, to House of Winterbourne, and since Edmund could be considered a Winterbourne by extension, their loyalty also extended to him.
Today, the King would marry Jane Ainsworth. My father had invited over a renowned seamstress to make dresses for me, my mother, and Lisbeth. The wedding was held during summer, so the seamstress had crafted a leaf green gown for me, made with exquisite green brocade and silk for the bodice. Edmund had sent over some hair ornaments decorated with emeralds, which I appreciated greatly. Lisbeth had insisted on a pale cream gown, which was almost white, despite all our interjections. The gown itself was beautiful, but it was heavy and unsuited for summer. After wearing the gown, I could easily tell that Lisbeth was pleased, and was certain that she had proven everyone wrong. To match the cream gown, she had worn a string of white pearls on her neck and diamonds for her ears. Her dark brown hair was made into an elegant updo, and she had put a little bit of rouge on her lips, which made her look very mature.
On the way to the palace, Lisbeth had made fun of me for still looking like a child, but gradually, she began to sweat and her hairdo weighed down on her. By the time we entered the royal cathedral, she was sweating heavily and her dress was completely soaked, and all the elegance from earlier completely disappeared.
I had only settled down in my seat for a short while before I heard the King's arrival being announced, followed by Jane Ainsworth's. Her coronation would also be held today, so Phoenicia would finally get a queen after that position had remained empty for a year. As Jane walked in however, Lisbeth's face turned pale white. The dress that Jane wore was the exact same shade as Lisbeth's, and the new queen had also decided to wear pearls to match the cream fabric.
The resemblance was quite striking, and many eyes were on Lisbeth. Jane herself seemed to have noticed, and she cast my sister a sinister, dissatisfied look. My mother yanked Lisbeth's arm and caused her to look away, but I could see that my sister was trembling with fear. How unlucky was she to have worn the same shade as the queen on her own wedding!
The wedding proceeded smoothly however, and the Ainsworth kinsmen were seated up front, seemingly unfazed by the fact that their own daughter had died only a year ago. Although, I suppose it isn't that big of an issue to them, as dead Queen Helene's position is now filled by a daughter of theirs as well, and now we have a Queen Jane. We had a Queen Lucianna before, two Queen Margarets, three Queen Isabellas, five queens named Mary, seven or so named Elizabeth, one Queen Helene and a Queen Jane, but never a Queen Anne, despite it being a very common name. Perhaps, if Edmund's father had lived and ascended the throne, there would be a Queen Anne.
King Edward had no male heirs as of now, so perhaps we would have yet another Queen Margaret soon. However, my betrothed was determined to fight for the crown. Maybe on that day, Phoenicia would have a Queen Anne after all.
There were envoys from the neighbouring kingdoms, and I saw extremely tall and willowy, pale skinned men with large, luminous dark eyes, each donning coats the colour of grass in a vast meadow and earthy brown trousers. These were the Terrawinians, the land where Claudie had spent several years of her life in. The leader of the envoy was plump and jovial, and seemed to be very well fed, but his soldiers were thin, pallid and sour faced. They looked at our banquet table with wide eyes, as if they had never seen food before, and whenever their leader spoke, they only smiled thinly and did not respond.
Next to the Terrawinians were the Raviers, a small island nation just a few miles off the west coast that heavily relies on Phoenicia for food and livestock. Our kingdom could have invaded and took over the kingdom of Ravier in less than a day, but they were very peaceful, so we decided not to disturb them. The Raviers were almost alien to us, as they were extremely pale, and their skin was almost white, their veins visible through their translucent skin. They had silvery white hair and violet eyes-similar to my own, but much paler. I also saw some who had pinkish eyes, which I found very peculiar. The Raviers were undoubtedly beautiful, but the sight of their purple and green veins swirling beneath their skin made me squirm.
There were also the Amarisians, the homeland of my grandmother, the Princess Anne Genevieve. The Amarisians looked vaguely similar to us Winterbournes, with dark, coarse and wavy hair and light, colourful eyes. Each of the envoys donned bright embroidered coats, all bearing motifs of fire, which was symbolic to the Amarisians.
Sitting next to the Amarisians were the envoys from Ravaeryn, historical enemies of Amaris. Indeed, it was interesting to watch the handsome Duke de Fontaine of Ravaeryn smiling and waving at the Amarisian envoys while crossing his middle and ring finger, which was an obscene gesture in their kingdoms.
Besides the four kingdoms, there was no more. Lecarre sent no envoys to Phoenicia. It was a bad sign, but I had faith in Phoenicia's military, and if there was to be war, I was certain that we would be the victors.
At the banquet, I saw that my cousin Benedict had brought over one of his mistresses, Rachel, now his lawfully wedded wife. Like Leanne, Rachel was also a sweet faced, petite girl, but Benedict showed no liking towards her. The new queen looked at my cousin with dislike, and towards his new wife, she showed even more distaste.
I knew that Queen Jane was likely displeased that Benedict had married another woman despite the fact that his betrothed, Lady Grace Ainsworth had only passed away last year, but who was Queen Jane to complain, especially after having wed her dead sister's widower?
She had smiled at me, and although I had to admit that she was beautiful, she did not have the same charms as Queen Helene did. I returned her smile, now realising that Queen Jane, in fact, didn't know that I was the one who perpetrated the deaths of her two sisters and little nephew.
Apparently, this Queen Jane liked to dance, and that night she had dragged her fat, sweaty husband to the dance floor. I myself waltzed with my brother, then my father, and then my betrothed.
"Green suits you, Annie," Edmund whispered into my ear as he clasped my hands and led me into the ballroom. His movements were smooth and calculated, and he was careful in his footing. I simply followed his footsteps, and he was sure to prevent me from making a fool out of myself.
Then, from afar, I saw my brother dancing with Princess Margaret. My brother had grown significantly and was now much taller than I was. His violet eyes were very striking and prominent against his olive skin, and he often had his chestnut hair slicked back, and he could be considered somewhat attractive.
The Princess Margaret was a perfect match for Gilbert. She was not only graceful and poised, but also fiery and eye-catching, having worn a deep burgundy gown with black lace embellishments to her father's wedding. Now fourteen, I was certain that she now knew the demands to always look beautiful, so she had covered her lips with rouge and her cheeks with blush. When my brother twirled her along with the music, she had let out a peal of laughter. It was ridiculous though, how can someone's be so beautiful that even their laugh sounds endearing?
In the dark, secluded corner however, the other princess stood in complete silence. She was small and pale, unlike her glamourous sister who had glowing skin and shiny locks of reddish blonde hair. Half of Princess Cecily's face was covered by her hair, but from her trembling lips and downcast eyes, I could tell that she was far from happy. No one had asked for her hand that night, and my heart ached for her, especially after knowing how sweet and soft spoken she was.
After the dance ended, I nudged Gilbert and urged him to dance with Princess Cecily. He looked at me as if I had spawned two heads, and quickly replied 'No.'
"No, why would I ?" he scoffed. "I am smitten with her sister, not her!"
I recalled the way Princess Cecily would look at Gilbert from afar, and her limpid eyes were filled with so much hope and affection. However, I could not tell him, or he might tell everyone and embarrass the poor princess.
"It's just a dance, Gibbs. Besides, wouldn't it be nice to be acquainted with her?" I convinced.
My brother then grudgingly ask her to dance with him, and I watched as he reluctantly led her to the dance floor, and his face looked like a sour plum as he glared daggers at me. Princess Cecily, however, was overjoyed, and was smiling from ear to ear.
"Are you trying to play matchmaker now, Annie?" Edmund asked while we stood by the refreshments table.
"I think the Princess likes my brother, Edmund. She looked so sad earlier, so I wanted to make her a bit happier," I said with a smile. Edmund gazed warmly at Gilbert and Princess Cecily, but then his smile suddenly faded.
"Annie," he said urgently. "You once told me that Gilbert fancies Princess Margaret, didn't you?"
I nodded. "Yes, Edmund. He is so smitten that he plans to propose to her once she is of age."
"Annie, while it is true that the king plans to wed one of the princesses to Gilbert, the other princess shall be send to Prince Henri of Terrawyn," he stated.
"And?" I said, confused. "The king will just send Princess Cecily, won't he?"
"In Terrawyn, the women who marry into the royal family mustn't have a single scar or mark on their body, Annie. The king cannot send over Princess Cecily. It has to be Princess Margaret."
"Oh," I murmured, recalling about what Princess Cecily had said regarding her sister. The music of the dance slowly came to a halt, and my brother and Princess Cecily had yet to part, simply standing there silently with their hands clasped together, both quiet and wordless. Perhaps, it was not such a bad thing after all.