disclaimer! not everything in this book is historically correct. a lot of the fashion choices are personal choices but you may imagine whatever you like - i would suggest pinterest if you like to visualise! the french in this book is google translated, so it may not be correct but i have tried my best. enjoy <3
*re-edited*
Marie Antoinette Howard, the only daughter of the French King and Queen, stepped onto British soil for the first time since she was 6, in March 1813. Her mother and father were good friends with Her Royal Majesty herself, Queen Charlotte. Such good friends, in fact, that she felt as if the Queen was her aunt, rather than her Godmother. They definitely got on better than Marie and her mother is all she would say.
Marie was well-known throughout Northern France as the notorious troublemaker with awful manners and a knack for driving suitors away. This talent had led to her not yet married at the bright age of twenty and six. Her mother, Ann, had finally snapped after the girl had been found painting at a street bar instead of attending her cousin's first ball after marriage. Scandalous, the only heir to the French throne being a woman and lacking a suitable husband or a child.
And so, she was sent away to England in hopes of marrying there, under the influence of the Queen's 'impeccable taste'. "Merci," Marie curtseyed after being helped out of her carriage. Her gloved hand slipped away from the bowing butler, and into the folds of her dress so she could get out of the carriage unharmed. She sighed, breathing in as much fresh English air as she could with her tight corset on.
"Princess Howard, how you've grown" The Queen rushed forward, enveloping the young girl in a generous hug. The large pearls and beads, which littered Charlotte's eccentric dress, dug into Marie's arms. "Must you call me that? Mama wouldn't know if you called me Marie," The brunette smiled politely at her Godmother. "Alright, if you insist," Charlotte smirked before she ushered the girl inside.
"Now, we'll have time for catch-up later but I have scheduled my most stubborn maids to get you ready for the Diamond Ceremony" The Queen smiled at Marie, the girl always bringing out her softer side. "The what?" Marie grimaced at the words 'maids' and 'get ready'. "The Diamond Ceremony, when debutantes come in front of me to be judged, and I pick my Diamond of the Season. The most eligible girl for bachelors. Your mother sent you at this time of the year for a reason my dear," The Queen rushed, chuckling at Marie's fallen face before she hurried off to get her palace prepared.
"Come this way, Your Highness," A Scottish maid asked of Marie, pointing up the marble staircase, dodging Marie's harrowing gaze. "I cannot breathe in this corset, I thought I would be able to take it off when I get to England," She huffed, gently placing her feet on each marble. The royal palace was huge, the practice of violins echoing through the stone halls. The ginger maid helped hold Marie's dress as the Princess made her way up the steps. "Don't worry Your Highness, I'm sure you'll get some time without corsets," The girl smiled resorting to silence after the disbelieving look Marie gave her.
►►►
After a short bath, Marie sat in a chair that looked comfortable but was most definitely not. She had been scrubbed raw, plucked, and scratched until she looked presentable and smelt of roses. "Ow," Marie complained as the harsh old maid, Connie, pulled her hair back into a plaited knot. "Can't we just leave my hair down?" She smiled innocently at Connie who had bunches of her hair in her calloused hands. "No, Your Highness" She spoke with a few pins in her mouth, "The Queen had specific orders to dress you appropriately and no other debutantes will have their hair down," She sighed, ignoring Marie's naturally irritating side.
"What are your opinions on women's rights in England, Connie" Marie smiled as the maid faltered. Marie was very good at making things especially awkward and planned to make her mother realize that France would be left to a Queen, whether her parents liked it or not. Change was to be made in the next French Generation.
"It would be improper to share my views of such matters with you, Your Highness," The maid said, roughly jabbing her head hair with a pin. "Never mind then," Marie huffed and relaxed her posture into the back of the chair. Splintering wood poked at the back of her arms.
She cocked her head, the bones in her neck cracking with satisfying pops. "That is most unladylike," The maid tutted, pulling Marie's head towards her toughly. "I see we have different views on the matter of feminism," Marie smirked and looked out the window absentmindedly. She watched the continuous stream of impressive carriages make their way into the palace, carrying this season's debutantes.
After an hour of pain, lost hair, and increasingly aching posture, Marie's hair was up and finished. Her brown locks had been straightened and brushed into a plait before swirling it into a bun at the base of her neck. "You are squeezing my stomach up my throat, I do believe that is not the required effect," Marie complained, her French accent seeming more prominent around all the English maids. More struggling, and Marie was in a dress, ready to go.
"Just wear the jewels, Marie," The Queen chuckled lightly as she made her way into the room. She noticed the same stubbornness she had as a young princess, prepped in her first few days after marrying George.
"Ugh, merde," Marie sulked as she finally let the maids fuss over her. "And quit the language, I do know enough French myself," Charlotte called down the hall, humor present in her deep voice.
► Marie's hair
► Marie's dress
►►►
"And now I present Princess Marie Howard of France," A young man announced as the burgundy curtains opened. Marie walked forward, ignoring all the strained eyes looking her way at the mention of 'Princess'. Gasps of jealous girls and mamas filled the room as they looked at her handmade dress ordered by the Queen.
Marie kept her head high, looking right into the Queen's eyes as she walked down the plane. Her head itched and she felt like she couldn't breathe. It may have been all the eyes, the expectations, or the corset. She wasn't sure. She stopped near the bottom of the Queen's steps and curtseyed low, swiftly standing up in order to not lose her balance. Although it would be expected - Marie had had her fair share of news headlines including incidents where she could not function properly in heels. "Beautiful," The Queen winked slyly at her and proceeded to send her away with a quick wave of the hand.
Marie looked around as she walked back down the aisle, searching for any familiarity, a rush of homesickness falling onto her shoulders. Not of her family, but perhaps the countryside, or the twinkling lights of nighttime Paris.
Her eyes scanned the room, landing on a group of red-headed women covered in the ugliest dresses, which did little for their pale complexions. Briefly flitting across all faces, Marie's eyes slid to a large group of people, faltering as she was stunned by their beauty. The three present girls were varying in age but all short, one with a brown fringe who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.
Next to her was a strawberry blonde who was clapping politely at Marie. She had a white feather in her hair and a pristine dress on. Another debutante. The other woman looked older, smiling warmly when she noticed Marie's lost expression. Marie responded with a polite grin.
The men were stood behind her and yet Marie could see their faces clearly due to their height. There was one with a stern expression, his hand possessively on the strawberry-blondes shoulder. His sideburns were something else, Marie thought to herself. Next to him was a shorter man with a kind face and a mischievous smile.
Then Marie's brown eyes landed on another set of the same color. Her breath caught in her corset and she recovered her slight stumble. Everyone else's eyes were on the blonde debutante walking through the doors, so nobody noticed her falter.
The man had brown messy hair and short stubble; his eyes and smile showed hours of laughter which made him welcoming. "Hmm," Marie thought as she left the room and was covered by the glances of the whole Ton. "I must meet them".