Chapter Nineteen: La Vicomtesse

Previously: The Capital

 

It was a late summer morning when they arrived at the de Montverre ducal palace in Saint-Véronne. The courtyard was enormous, with a large fountain at its center. Beyond it rose the sprawling ducal palace, surrounded by perfectly manicured hedges.

 

The walls still bore the crest of the de Montverre family, a silver stag with golden antlers standing above three silver peaks on a dark emerald field, with a small gold coronet overhead. But there were new banners now, bearing the crest of du Maurier. Mireille smiled to see the familiar golden ship sailing across three silver waves beneath an eight-pointed golden star, all against an aubergine field.

 

Edith stared out the window of their carriage, awestruck. "I grew up hearing stories about the splendor of the Valeronnese capital," she gasped, "but this is far beyond anything I could have imagined." She shook her head in disbelief. "No wonder Thibault hasn't been back to Auremer."

 

Mireille was speechless. She stared uncertainly, wondering if leaving Westervale had been a mistake.

 

These are the big leagues, she told herself, and we haven't even reached the royal court.

 

But then she remembered. Wait a sec... My character lived here before she fled to Westervale. She belongs here. I belong here.

 

She took a deep breath and sat straight up. "It's certainly nicer than the home of the Comtesse de Marivelle," she muttered. She recalled looking up the Countess's estate weeks ago. It didn't come close to this.

 

"Come Edith," Mireille called, when the carriage came to a stop. "Our next great adventure awaits."

 

Edith practically skipped out of the carriage. She stared about herself, spellbound. Mireille smiled at her warmly, finding it charming. She was glad the redhead had traveled with her to Valeronne. She wasn't just a guide. She was a real friend and her presence made Mireille feel safe.

 

They were greeted at the double doors by a manservant who led them through the massive hallways. Sunlight streamed through the giant windows, illuminating the smooth walls and polished floors. Everything was immaculate, from the colorful de Montverre and du Maurier heraldry to the collection of marble busts and family portraits. There were so many servants that Mireille lost count before they reached a sunlit sitting room, where Marguerite rested beside the fire with her newborn son and Thibault stood close by.

 

Mireille smiled again; she liked seeing them together. She didn't know if they were in love yet, but they seemed genuinely happy.

"Cousine! Edith!" Thibault cheerfully greeted. "You're just in time for breakfast."

 

"Bienvenue," Marguerite said, smiling. "Ladies, come and meet Amaury."

 

For a split moment, Mireille completely forgot she was surrounded by holograms. She and Edith went over to the baby. He was a beautiful brown creature, with dark brown hair and eyes. Mireille couldn't stop herself from fawning over him as she took him into her arms.

 

"He's perfect," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. She had done this. She had maneuvered this character into existence, which she was certain no other player ever had.

 

"Oh, Mireille." Edith lightly dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. "He's so beautiful." She turned to Marguerite. "And you, my lady? Are you well?"

 

"I was in labor for two whole days," Marguerite groaned. "Worst pain I've ever known." She smiled down at her son. "But in the end, he was worth it."

 

"I have told Marguerite I will not pressure her for more children," Thibault said, "but she insists that our son needs a sister."

 

"Of course he does," Mireille laughed, taking a seat next to her cousin. "Congratulations, cousins. Will your mother be joining you soon?"

 

"She and Élodie were here for the birth," he replied. "Élodie was happy to visit the capital, but it didn't agree with Maman. Once she was certain Marguerite was well, they returned to Laurenne."

 

"And how do they like Laurenne?" Edith asked, sitting next to the baby.

 

"Élodie complains that it is full of fat country lords," Marguerite chuckled. "But Maman feels more at home."

 

Thibault raised an eyebrow. "She just likes having that place to herself. How is my brother?"

 

"Lucien has a head for business," Mireille admitted. She smiled at her cousin. "And your ambition. He already bought two more ships, and established a trade agreement with a Calderran wine supplier. But enough of that." She sat up straight. "Tell me about the Prince."

 

Marguerite shuddered. "Ugh. Aurélien is a child in a man's body."

 

"Despite having some of the best tutors in the world, he's a mediocre swordsman, his archery skills are nonexistent, and he's fluent in only Valeronnese and Avenish," Thibault reported, reaching for his cup of jasmine tea. "In fact, I would surmise His Highness's only talent is functioning while drunk."

 

"So he's a spoiled, useless royal," Mireille said, nodding. She could work with that.

 

Marguerite's face looked sour. "It appalls me to think someday he will be King."

 

"Is he at least leaving you alone?" Edith asked.

 

Thibault and Marguerite exchanged an exasperated look. "He invited us on a hunt," Thibault answered. "He loves going on hunts, even though he doesn't actually hunt. He just likes to ride his horse and drink ale by the fire."

 

Marguerite sighed loudly, "I don't want to go."

 

"And you won't have to," Mireille assured her. "Neither of you will. Now, Edith and I will need to bathe and refresh ourselves. It seems we are bound for court."

 

***

  

The two women were granted a shared suite of opulent rooms. Despite the du Maurier influence, green was still the dominant color, with green velvet curtains, rugs, and tapestries in every room.

 

They were attended by an army of young maids who bathed them in copper bathtubs, and older maids who scrubbed and massaged their feet.

 

When they were dried and oiled, Mireille and Edith dressed for court. Mireille chose a resplendent aubergine silk gown while Edith wore royal blue. Both women adorned themselves with pearls, the gem of choice for House du Maurier. Edith even wore pearls in her red hair.

Mireille noted how well finery suited her former maid. She suddenly wished she'd never bothered with those other women. They had ended up being a waste of coin and time, abandoning her at the first opportunity. But Edith... Edith was willing to follow her to the ends of Asterra.

 

It was late morning when they rode to meet the Crown Prince in a carriage bearing the de Montverre crest. They arrived at the courtyard of the royal palace, and this time, Mireille was more mentally prepared. She wasn't wholly unfazed by how the royal palace of Saint-Véronne dwarfed her cousin's estate, but at least she knew what to expect.

 

The pillars were so high, the tallest man present only reached the bases. Like her cousin's estate, the royal palace was surrounded by miles of impeccably curated green.

 

There were numerous lords and ladies present, dressed in their riding gear and accompanied by their favorite hounds. Even without real-world research, Mireille knew right away which one was the Crown Prince.

 

Aurélien d'Aubremont was tall, well over six feet, with curly golden hair, lightly tanned skin, and bright green eyes. He wore his family colors of gold and scarlet, and was already drinking when the Viscountess arrived.

 

Usually, Edith exited the carriage first, but this time, Mireille stepped out with Edith in tow. Aurélien looked toward their carriage with anticipation, then confusion as complete strangers emerged from the familiar carriage.

 

Mireille boldly walked towards him and bowed low.

 

"Your Highness," she greeted in a calm, low voice. "My cousin sends his regrets. His wife is not feeling well, so he sent me in their place."

 

Aurélien raised a dark golden eyebrow. "And you are?"

 

"Forgive me," she nodded slightly. "I am la Vicomtesse Mireille Célestine Victoire Solène du Maurier... newly arrived from the coast of Auremer."

 

Next: Random