The Lady Knight
9 October, Year 30 of King Frederick V of Monrique's reign
Derelia, Anchorvale
Monrique
Dear Jules,
Frannie and I are well, thank you. I gave birth to a healthy baby boy a fortnight ago. He is the sweetest little thing, Jules, and taking care of him, loving him makes me so happy as I have not been in these last few weeks. We are still thinking of what to name him.
In the meanwhile, each night brings another day, but it does not bring much promise for the future. We are trying to move on from our husbands' deaths, but it is proving to be very difficult for us. The nightmares insist on haunting our dreams every night, and the wounds and the pain are still fresh.
However, we are doing our very best to put this behind us, especially for my baby's sake. I do not want him to have a gloomy childhood merely because of how his father had broken our family.
Frannie, in the meanwhile, is preparing for a baby shower. Although, whom she has invited, and who are all coming is still a mystery to me.
However, if the Prince and yourself will be present in Anchorvale on 8 December, then please do stop by Derelia to offer my baby your blessings. Despite all that he has done, I am sure Lucien would have had liked you both to come, and without a doubt, I myself will be beyond delighted as well.
I hope my letter finds you healthy and well also. I heard about Nick's Potential Quest, and that you have been chosen as his advisor.
My heartiest congratulations to you, Jules. I hope our next Queen would be as kind, loving and caring as the current one, and I am certain that Nick would prove to be wise in his choice of a consort, as much as I am certain that you will advise him most appropriately.
Please convey my best wishes to him, and do let me know if you are able to come for the baby shower as soon as possible. Take care and write soon.
Your dear friend,
Lady Victoria Havelock of Derelia
I smiled faintly. It was our fortune that we would be staying in Anchorvale on that first week of December. I would be honoured and happy to attend, and I was sure the Prince would be, as well. Lucien had been a friend to the both of us.
A lump formed in my throat, as I kept the scroll inside my sack. The nightmares which haunted her dreams every night haunted my own, as well. It was relentless in its pursuit to torment me to insanity, but it was also my main motivation to solve this case.
I sighed again, and closed my eyes for a brief moment, clearing my mind of the endless, badgering thoughts.
"Jules?" someone knocked thrice on my door just then, snapping me out of my reverie.
"Come in!"
The door flung open, and I winced at the sound it made against the wall. Did anyone in Cavarriere treat doors gently?
Camille stumbled into my study. Her brunette locks, which were usually neatly braided across her back, were now flying in all directions. Her pale, yellow gown was rumpled, and her eyes were huge and wild with terror.
To see the normally calm and composed Camille in such a state of disarray was nothing short of a shock. "What happened, Camille?"
"You had better come with me quickly, Jules," she was panting, her face slightly red, probably with exertion from having run up the stairs to my study, "it is the Prince."
***
"Say that again, Your Royal Highness and I swear, I will - "
In the gardens, behind a bare tree, two men were wrestling with each other. A slightly shorter man, whose back was facing me, was shaking the Prince by the collar, his voice ringing with a mixture of fury and loathing.
"What will you do to me?" the Prince cut him off, mocking him in return.
The shorter man punched the Prince in the face for an answer. Camille and I both winced upon hearing the small, yet sickening crunch, as we hurried towards them.
Who was this other man, and how did he dare handle the Prince this way?
The Prince burst into derisive laughter. "Weak, Andrew," he taunted, "all these years, yet you still punch like a child."
His companion raised his fist again, growling, but I reached them and caught his arm from behind before he could strike.
"Cease this foolishness!" I swung him around none too gently to face me, and glared ferociously at him, "what in the world do you think you are doing?"
I trembled in indignant fury before him, as I vaguely wondered how had I not recognised him earlier from the way he conversed with the Prince.
The Prince had very few enemies apart from me, and the eighteen-year-old Lord Andrew of Rortaine was one of those very few.
"Julie?" the Prince frowned in confusion when he noticed me, holding a hand to his bleeding nose, but I ignored him.
In the meanwhile, Andrew's baby blue eyes, so like those of Anna and Sophie, twinkled with wry amusement, as they eyed me up and down insolently.
Quite unlike how a Corporal should be looking at his Commander General.
If he were among the other army officers, he would not have dared. If he were back at Bordeux, at training, he would not even have thought of it.
However, he seemed to be under the mistaken impression that, as a woman, I was powerless without my Captains around me.
Andrew was Anna's and Sophie's younger brother. If not for their resemblance in features, I would not have been able to believe that they were siblings at all.
In short, he was sly and slippery, as much as Anna and Sophie were outspoken and honest. Everything that ever came out of his mouth rang double meaning, mostly of a spiteful and malicious nature.
I had never liked him even when he had been training alongside me in the Army. He was one of the many who had disapproved of a woman training to be a Knight, and one of the few who had openly mocked my abilities and efforts to master warfare during training.
Truth be told, I had been glad when he had been posted to his own duchy two years ago to join the team of Corporals who protected it, as I fast became weary of his endless innuendos and mockery.
It seemed I had to thank the missing Lady Fortune for having to meet this troublesome man mere hours after arriving at Cavarriere.
"Good morning, my Lady Knight," he smiled slowly, deliberately, "how wonderful to meet you."
"How intriguing, Lord Andrew, " I cocked an eyebrow, "your manners seem to have improved over the years."
He inclined his head. "Why, thank you, my Lady Knight. Although, if you intend to stand here a moment longer, I might extend my good manners and invite you to fight with us as well."
His tone was polite, but there was a slight edge to his voice, and the threat from his use of diction was unmistakable.
I smiled wryly. "How very generous of you, Lord Andrew."
"Worry not, my Lady Knight, you need not accept the invite. We all know how difficult it already is for you to maintain your image as a competent Army officer."
I had been wondering when he was going to truly start spewing implied insults.
Or direct ones.
I merely raised an eyebrow. "If you say that one more time, I might give you a black eye, my dear Lord Andrew," I narrowed my eyes, "with or without issuing you an invitation to show me your face."
He burst out laughing loudly. "You have not changed in the slightest, my Lady Knight. Are you truly able to give me a black eye, however?" His tone rang with double meaning.
I bristled at his insolence, as Camille lay a cautious hand on my arm. "Truly, your attitude only becomes worse with every passing year, Andrew," she shook her head in disgust, "you may want to take that back while you still can."
He ignored her. "Leave that aside, my Lady Knight. I have more important issues that I am curious about," he smiled at me once more in a calculating manner, "I recently heard of your folly regarding the security arrangements in Bordeux Dungeons."
Aye, he has found my weakness.
The Prince's eyes snapped to his, as did mine at the mention of the incident.
"What about it, Lord Andrew?" I snapped.
He glanced maliciously at the Prince, who was suddenly listening very intently to this conversation, before answering me.
"Here, in Cavarriere, I had placed a bet with the other army officers," there was a spiteful glint in his eyes, "on how long it will take before your incompetency resulted in something dire. For instance, old Lucien being butchered like fowl meat in his own dungeons. Do tell me, my Lady Knight. Had the murderer cut up his body into pieces, or had he merely slashed at him once before fleeing?" He laughed cruelly.
How could anyone be so insensitive as to mock a dead man thus?
The Prince growled with boundless fury, despite his broken nose, as my blood boiled with rage, and my hot-tempered mind took complete control over my actions.
Before the Prince himself could get his hands on him, before Camille could stop me, I swung out and punched him hard on the eye like I had promised earlier.
He staggered back with the impact, not having expected the punch, and groaned loudly in pain.
I crossed my arms, satisfied. Good. That would leave a blue-black bruise in a few minutes.
Camille whistled. "Good one, Jules!"
"Not bad, Julie," the Prince managed a tiny smile, but his eyes still burned with the rage and hurt from Andrew's thoughtless words, as the latter jumped up and down in pain, whining like a little girl.
"I should have cut you up into pieces for what you said, Lord Andrew," I snarled, clenching my fists to stop myself from striking him again, "but I do not wish to have another murder on my conscience." My voice cracked.
The Prince shot me a strange, puzzled look, as Camille placed a brief hand on my shoulder for comfort.
"Do not listen to his words," she murmured, "they are nothing but poison. I will have Anna whip him again. He has clearly crossed all boundaries."
Ah, Anna's whip.
Everyone usually assumed that the Ladies of Cavarriere were always easy-going, but it was not true.
Ever since the Countess of Rortaine, Andrew's mother, passed away years ago, Anna and Sophie had become the pillars of strength, the mother hens of the broken family.
It was them that Andrew, and the rest of their siblings, sought for advice and help. It was them who had raised Andrew and the five other Rortaine children over the years right by their father's side through the dark years that had followed.
However, it was Anna, not Sophie, who always meted out the punishment for their misbehaviour. Sophie, unlike her twin, could not bear to lay her hand on her siblings even to discipline them. She preferred sweet talk over the whip.
Anna, on the other hand, had no such reservations. Any misconduct, any breach of moral etiquette would earn the Rortaine children, including Andrew, a rendezvous with her whip.
I knew not about her other siblings, but I knew that Andrew feared Anna's whip like the plague, old as he was.
To Anna, Andrew would always be her little brother to discipline, and till this day, even though he was a grown man and a Corporal in the Monriquan Armed Forces, she had yet to cease whipping him for his misbehaviour.
I found the fact extremely amusing, truth be told. I had even considered many a time making her a Captain in the army merely to handle Corporals like him.
In a louder voice, Camille huffed. "I think it is high time I brought you to Anna, Andrew. You seem to have forgotten how her whip feels like against your back," she decided grimly.
His expression now turned fearful. "Nay, Camille, do not - " he began, but she cut him off by dragging him by the ear none too gently inside the Manor.
Andrew's blubbering protests could be heard all the way until his voice faded with the distance and the door shut behind them.
In the meanwhile, my eyes fell on the Prince, whose nose was still bleeding. He fumbled with his already bloody handkerchief, wincing slightly due to the pain, but he seemed to be too deep in his thoughts to care very much about it.
I rummaged my own pockets for a clean hanky, and handed it to him. "Here," I offered, observing him, "use this, Your Royal Highness."
He did not appear to hear me. His dark, grey eyes remained out of focus. I tilted my head, frowning.
What thoughts held his attention so tightly captive?
I waved the hanky in front of his face. "Your Royal Highness?"
He blinked, snapping back to the present. "I beg your pardon?"
I shook my head. "I merely offered you my hanky, since yours is already bloody. What were you thinking about, Your Royal Highness?'
He avoided my gaze, and ran a hand through his hair. "Andrew reminds me of Lucas," he sighed heavily, "and how he used to twist and turn his words, especially to hurt Lucien. Andrew seems to be intent on doing the same to you. And me." He added as an afterthought.
"The only thing that controls that poisonous mouth of Andrew is Anna's whip," I pursed my lips, as the gory images of the dead Lord Lucas and Lord Lucien implanted themselves unbidden on my mind, "simply put him out of your mind, Your Royal Highness. He is not worthy of your time."
He did not answer, as the burning pain in his dark eyes for the loss of Lord Lucien only became more pronounced.
I suddenly felt my insides squirming. How would I feel if Kat or Lisa were to die under such circumstances?
Most likely, I would be angry with life, furious with whoever was present when they died, even if it were not truly their fault. I would hate them for simply existing while Kat and Lisa were not. I would find someone to blame it all on to feel better.
I knew I would. So how could I expect the Prince not to?
It was clear that he was still grieving, and it was horribly wrong of Andrew to have said what he had a few minutes ago.
I stepped up towards him, tugging away his bloodied handkerchief which he was tightly holding against his nose, and replaced it with my own hanky.
He grabbed onto my hanky before it fell from his nose, startled by my action, as he blinked at me. He looked fleetingly like a lost child at that moment, unsure of what to do, or how to handle himself.
I hugged myself, puzzled by the discomfiting, insistent churning in my stomach. Why was it bothering me so much that he was in such emotional pain? Was it because I was the cause in more ways than one?
Guilt manifested in so many forms these days, in my thoughts, in my dreams, in my physical body even. I have not had a moment of peace in such a long time, that I had even forgotten how it was to feel normal.
I let out a sharp breath, as words simply tumbled out of my mouth. "I am aware nothing I say or do will bring Lucien back to life," I sighed quietly, "but for all it is worth, Your Royal Highness, I am truly sorry."
He glanced at me, his grey eyes wide with surprise. "Julie..." he trailed off quietly, unable to find any words to reply to that.
An uncomfortable silence stretched on, the kind that I could not bear to stay and be stifled by.
"You need not say anything, Your Royal Highness," I smiled sadly, "I hope you feel better soon, and I shall see you at the Ball this evening."
With that, I brushed past him back inside the Manor, allowing him some time alone with his thoughts.
***
I opened my eyes.
I did not recognise where I was. Dark shadows loomed over me, and the bright, silver crescent moon peeked out occasionally from the huge grey clouds that obscured it, as if offering me hesitant, tentative support in this unknown place.
Rubbing my eyes open, I sat up, looking around me for the Prince and my Captains.
Where in the world were they? Why was I all alone?
At that moment, a twig snapped behind me. "Who is it?" I tensed, jumping up at once with my sword, almost on instinct.
A pale, white figure loped out from the shadows, glowing unnaturally with a silver hue. Tidal waves of sorrow radiated from him, as he came to a graceful stop in front of me.
I recoiled, stunned. Lucien.
"Greetings, Jules," he remarked quietly, "I hope I find you well."
I found myself tongue-tied. This man was supposed to be cold in his grave.
Was I delirious? What was he doing in front of me?
"I have come to see you, of course," he seemed to read my mind, "how is my wife? How is Victoria?"
This may have sounded like a casual inquiry, if not for the fact that his voice was almost threatening, and his eyes were burning intensely with a rage that I had never seen in him when he was alive.
"She is well," I forced out, beginning to perspire, "she has given birth to your son, and he is well too. She writes to me from time to time."
His sorrowful expression suddenly turned furious, as he turned around and punched a tree trunk behind him. A crack split through the trunk with a thundering roar.
"I should be with her at this time," he growled, trembling as his eyes bore into mine, "I should be by her side, helping to take care of her and our son. All because of you, I am unable to do so!"
He shouted so loudly, that the birds that had been quietly resting on the trees flew away.
I flinched.
"You labelled me a murderer, a traitor, without even giving me an opportunity to prove myself innocent. In Tori's eyes, I am nothing but a liar and a cold-blooded killer now," he grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard, "in the future, my son will to grow up believing the same. And it is all your fault!"
"I knew not, Lucien," I whispered, pushing the words out of my lips, "there is nothing I could have done to prove you innocent. The weapon was in your hands, and six other Captains besides me stood witness to testify that fact. I am sorry. I am truly sorry."
He released me none too gently. "It matters not anymore," he replied brusquely, "what is done is done. There is nothing you can do to fix it. Nothing."
"There is. Who killed you, Lucien?" I breathed, demanding, "who? Tell me. I will personally send them to hell."
"That, we cannot say, my dear," a wise voice answered behind me instead of Lucien, "it is for us to know, and for you to find out. We dare not play with fate anymore. Not after we had played with so many lives while we lived."
I turned around to see a greying man, glowing with a similar silver hue to Lucien, loping towards me.
My eyes widened once again. It was Lord Pierre, the first noble to be murdered this year, who possessed the double helix snake structure on his right shoulder blade.
"Lord Pierre?" I frowned, inclining my head.
"That would be correct, my dear," he flashed me a rueful smile.
"Why?" my voice cracked, "why will you not tell me?"
"We cannot," he sighed, and put a gentle hand on my head as if to bless me.
"You will find the murderer in time, my dear. Fate has already decided that, and I am certain you know it deep in your bones. I only ask that when you do, you will gather your moral courage to do what is right."
"None of us can rest in peace until you do," I noticed a silvery Lord Lucas join his brother from the shadows, with his hands in his pockets.
"Justice has yet to be served," another voice commented quietly, approaching our gathering — Lord Louis.
"And it is your duty, as a Lady Knight, to forever be loyal to the Crown and to the country, as we never were," Lord Francois walked towards us, as well, "please. Everything is at stake."
The five of them began to circle me, repeating their words over and over again, as if casting a spell.
"Find the murderer."
"It is your fault, Jules! Your fault that I am separated from my wife and my child!"
"None of us can rest in peace."
"Justice has yet to be served."
Their faces revolved faster and faster, and they began to morph into scarred, marred, bloody, grotesque image, exactly how they had looked when they had been murdered.
Their arms began to detach themselves from their bodies, as did their limbs, with ear splitting cracks. Blood dripped from their faces onto my pale white skin, angry red blotches against pure white. Even my skin began to wrinkle and turn black, as it wasted away at a rapid rate.
They closed in on me, until all I could see was darkness, all I could feel was their unrest, their rage.
An agonised scream tore out of my throat, as pain of unimaginable sorts shot through my body.
I screamed out loud in reality as I sat up, perspiring profusely. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to erase that nightmare from my mind.
This was not the first time I had had this nightmare. It had haunted my dreams on a regular basis since the day I had discovered Lucien dead in his cell.
However, repeats had made the nightmare no less frightening than the very first time.
It was not real, Jules, I told myself, it was not real.
I hugged the blankets close to myself, taking deep breaths. I had never been afraid to fall asleep before. Nowadays, however, I dreaded every time the Sun set and the moon rose. I felt like bursting into tears every time my body pestered me for an afternoon nap such as this one.
I put my head in my hands, feeling utterly and completely alone.
***
"Camille, please pass me that brush -"
"Does my hair look all right, Jules? Has Frances braided it correctly?"
"Of course I have, Maggie! Dare not suggest otherwise, you ungrateful little - "
"Sophie! Did you take my vial of kohl?"
"Nay, Diana, I bought one of my own already. I do not need yours anymore!"
"Marguerite Amalie Devereux! Where in the world is the dress Mama had picked out for me tonight? Did I not tell you to leave it on my dressing table?"
"I did keep it on your dressing table this morning! Mayhap if you cleared that stack of books from that awfully messy table of yours, Camille, you will find it one day. Why are you so interested in those dictionary-sized books is beyond me, I tell you -"
The dressing room was beyond chaotic with all their chattering and bickering. Bits and pieces of ribbons, frills and silk were flying about in all directions, and Camille's whole dressing chamber was a complete mess.
I did not think that even the market on a Sunday morning would feel this crowded, and it was difficult to believe that merely the six of them could suffocate me in such a large chamber.
Or should I say, the five of them. Anna had yet to arrive and prepare for the Ball.
I glanced at my timepiece, worried. There was only an hour left for the Ball to begin, and there was no sign of her.
"You did not answer me, Jules," Marguerite complained, pouting slightly, "does my hair look all right?"
I chuckled, shaking my head in exasperation. "My dearest Marguerite, Frances has done a wonderful job with your hair," I rolled my eyes, my voice sounding sickly-sweet, "I am very certain the Prince will be simply blown away by your blinding beauty. Happy?"
Frances laughed out loud. "I could not have said it better myself, my Lady Knight!"
Marguerite shot the both of us a pointed look, before sticking out her tongue at me.
"Thank you very much, Jules," she muttered sarcastically, "I feel so much better now."
"You are most welcome," I winked, walking over to Camille, who was frantically searching for her missing gown among the books on her dressing table.
"Come, allow me to help you," I offered, stacking up a couple of her thick, heavy books and carried them to a corner of the room.
"Thank you so much, Jules," she sighed gratefully, wiping the sweat off her brow, "Mama is going to wear me out. That dress is probably all crumpled and wrinkled under one of these books...."
"Why did you bring your books here, of all places?" I laughed at the comically desolate expression on her face.
"After lunch, Mama had insisted that we all gather here for a pre-Ball preparation, to cleanse our faces with herbs, scrub our hair with rose oil and scents and sit still for hours with creams applied all over our body in order to obtain a brighter complexion and other aesthetic wonders." She huffed, shaking her head in exasperation before continuing.
"I predicted that I would soon become weary of doing nothing, and I was right. I am glad I brought these books here." She crossed her arms defiantly, daring me to chide her.
I shuddered, horrified at her plight. If Lady Marie had insisted all those atrocities on me, I was sure I would have thrown a tantrum and fled the Manor on first opportunity.
"You poor thing," I sympathised with her, and turned to carry the next stack of books, when a flash of silvery green sticking out from one of the books caught my eyes.
A slow smile spread across my face. Victory was sweet.
I bent down and tugged at the green fabric. I was able to pull it out of the book effortlessly, but there was one problem.
As Camille had guessed earlier, it was all crumpled.
"I think I found your dress," I chuckled sheepishly, holding it up.
Camille gasped in horror, as she grabbed it from my hands. "Nay," she groaned, "nay, nay, nay! Lord, everything has ended. Prepare a coffin for me, Jules, for I will be dead before this night ends, by Mama's own hands."
"You could stretch out that dress under your pile of books for the remaining half an hour or so," I suggested, chuckling, "they are so heavy that they will straighten out the creases. Enough to look presentable, at least."
"I can do little else," she huffed, exasperated with herself, as she did as I had suggested, "thank you, Jules."
"You should truly learn to care more for your possessions," I commented, amused.
She threw me a scowl, but said nothing.
"Jules?" someone called me hesitantly from behind.
"Yes, Sophie?" I faced the anxious woman before me, "what is it?"
She wrung her hands, her kohl-lined eyes filling with tears. "Anna should have come by now. Do you think she is still whipping Andrew? Would he be well enough to come to the Ball?"
My expression softened. "I am certain she will return soon," I smiled reassuringly, "and as to Andrew - "
I was cut off when the dressing room doors flung open with a loud bang.
"Oh, by God!" I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation, "what problem do you people of Cavarriere have with doors? Can't any of you open them gently?"
The five others burst into laughter.
Even Anna, who had just entered the room with her shoulders sagged and lips turned down in a frown, managed a small, sheepish smile.
"My apologies, Jules, but I was in a hurry. I do not have much time left to prepare for the Ball, do I?" She shrugged ruefully, seeming exhausted.
Sophie rushed towards her and tugged at her arm. "How is he?" she questioned urgently, "how is Andrew? Is he in pain? Is he coming to the Ball, or is he going to bed?"
"I did not whip him, Sophie," Anna shook her head tiredly, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Then where were you all this time?" her twin frowned, confused.
"Lord, I tried to whip him, but he has grown stronger than me," she trembled, "and...and...." Her voice broke.
I touched her shoulder, worried. "What happened, Anna?"
She looked away into the distance. "When I tried to whip him, he told me he hated me," she forced out, "that I only whip him to vent my own frustrations. That I am jealous of him because he is free and can live as he wishes, while I have to stay home and take care of our siblings. That the only reason why I am not yet married was because I am so bitter over everything that no decent man wants me for a wife..." She began to sob despite herself.
Having heard her words, the whole room grew silent, horrified. Sophie put an arm around her shoulders in comfort, as the rest of them in the room arranged themselves in a loose semi-circle around her, silently offering her their support, as I did mine.
"It has never occurred to me before," her shoulders shook with grief, "I know I should have been married long before now, but as to why...I knew not. I have never wondered, and I did not need to. I am content with my present way of life, and I love caring for our siblings with Sophie. However, now, I find myself wondering...am I truly that bitter? Am I undesirable?"
She raised a hand to her head, suddenly looking more aged than her four and twenty years as she leaned against Sophie's shoulder, trying to keep herself together.
"However, I can still live with that. I still have my family, and that is the only thing that matters and should matter to me," she whispered, "but when a part of that very family I hold dear to my heart resents what I do for their well-being, what...what do I do?"
"Ignore him, Anna. He has nothing but malicious thoughts in that mind of his," I murmured, reaching out to wipe her tears away.
"He does not mean them," Sophie rubbed her shoulders, sitting her down on a chair nearby, "mayhap he spoke them out of anger."
"Nay, you did not see him, Sophie. His voice was filled with such a hatred that I did not think I would ever have to hear in this lifetime -"
"Anger does not give him the right to say such things. Especially to his own sister, who has been raising him like their Mama would have for the last decade!" Camille glared, putting her hands on her hips, "he has gone much too far this time! First, he upset the Prince in the morning and now this? This is ridiculous!"
"He upset the Prince in the morning?" Marguerite and Diana burst out together, hearing this news for the first time, "what did he do to His Royal Highness?"
Camille was quick to narrate the full tale behind the Prince's broken nose. The duo grew more and more furious with every word.
"Something must be done!" Diana scowled, "for how much longer are we going to tolerate his behaviour? By all means, this is not the first time, and neither will it be the last."
"Aye, I agree that something must be done, but not tonight, Ladies," I shook my head, and bent down on my knees in front of Anna and took her hands in mine.
She blinked at me, startled.
"Anna, listen to me," I began solemnly, "no one has the right to make you feel horrible about yourself. No one. Not even your own brother."
"But - "
Camille placed a hand on her shoulder. "No one knows you better than yourself. Do you truly think whatever he said about you is true?" her voice was soft, "do we all not know about his nature? He is always stirring up trouble with that careless mouth of his. Do not allow his words to affect you, Anna. You are so much stronger than that."
"In any case, anyone with eyes can tell that you are quite the opposite of bitter. As to whether you are desirable...I am certain that it would come out all wrong were I to give you my opinion on that." I shot her a rakish grin.
Everyone burst out laughing, as even Anna cracked a watery smile. "I know not what to think anymore," she whispered.
"Then do not think. At least, not now," I smiled softly, "tonight, you are free to smile, enjoy yourself and show the world that you are as beautiful outside as you are inside. Dare not allow that idiot Andrew to spoil it for you. Who knows, you may find a suitor today like you always wanted."
She chuckled, blushing furiously as she raised her fist to punch my shoulder. "A good jest, Jules."
I caught her fist before it made contact with my shoulder and almost dropped it at once, shocked.
"Anna, you are burning!" I sucked in a sharp breath, worried, as I felt her hand.
She was clearly raging with a fever.
Sophie was quick to feel her forehead, alarmed. "Jules is right. Your forehead is so hot," she seconded, "why did you not tell me earlier that you were feeling ill?"
"I did not think too much on it," Anna admitted sheepishly, "I was already very tired."
"It must be the cold. Did I not advise you against going down to the village today?" Sophie fretted, "listen to me at least now and do not bother going to the Ball. Head off straight to bed, and I will bring some chicken soup for you in a few minutes."
Anna shook her head. "I have to go, Sophie," she smiled slightly, "this Ball is very important to all the people in Cavarriere. All of them have put in so much effort and time into arranging it for months now. What kind of noble Lady would I be if I did not even make a small effort to attend? Worry not, I will be all right."
The rest of the Ladies and I exchanged disbelieving glances.
"Brave words, Lady Annabelle, but you might want to reconsider your decision," I smiled wryly at her, "this is not a battle that is compulsory for you to fight."
I had an uneasy feeling she would be indisposed well before the end of the Ball.
"I will be all right," she maintained stubbornly, before breaking into an impish grin that lit her dull baby blue eyes momentarily," now, would you mind helping me prepare for the Ball, Jules dearest?"
My eyes widened in horror.