8. Eight
Waking up the next day and dressing in one of her finest gowns had been a challenge for Ludelle. Her maid pinched and prodded until her cheeks were tinged with a faded blue hue, her white hair shining with a dusting of glitter, and her dress clung perfectly to her tired body. The tight bodice straightened her back uncomfortably, but at least she looked resplendent. The silver beading that covered practically every inch of fabric weighed more than it had a right to, and the high neckline accentuated her long neck, while her exposed arms were also covered in glitter and rhinestones. The seamstress had said it was to mirror her guards’ scales, to show the men vying for her hand that she had a whole force of people behind her.
A pretty sentiment.
A knock came from her door, causing Kotyn’s ears to perk up. She jumped down from her stoop near the window to stand beside Ludelle as if protecting her from danger. Ludelle leaned over, even if her movements were restricted, and scratched behind the large cat’s soft ears. She nudged her head so Ludelle could reach the exact spot she liked best. A spoiled beast, but Kotyn deserved it.
“Come in,” Ludelle announced, as she adjusted a silver bracelet around her wrist.
Balvan trudged in with his usual piles of paper in his hands and a pen tucked behind his ear. Ludelle would have laughed if it weren’t for the fact that she was being forced to entertain all the nobles because of him.
His eyes blinked a few times and scoured the room, as if just recognizing where he was after being so lost in whatever he had been reading on his way over. He took in Ludelle as she stood in front of the mirror, her bed that had dresses laying all over it, and Kotyn who was ready to pounce. “I hope that barn animal is more useful beyond giving…cuddles.”
Kotyn hissed, stalking towards him. Ludelle gave Balvan some credit; he didn’t balk even when she started sniffing him, stretching her maw towards his neck, her sharp teeth ready to clamp down on his throat to prove exactly how useful she could be. She backed away when she accepted that he wasn’t a real threat, but not before swatting her tail, startling him enough to drop everything in his hands.
Ludelle chuckled. “How may I help you, Balvan?”
He was on his knees, compiling everything and muttering profanities to himself. Kotyn just yawned and went back to her nap.
“I’m here to escort you, Queen Ludelle.”
Usually her Captain would be the one to do that. Ludelle wondered if Zimyn told Balvan he was unable to or if Balvan urged against having the nobles see them together.
Either way, she could escort herself. When she told Balvan as much, he waved her off.
“None of that today. Your stubbornness is not productive to the crown.”
“And your inability to keep formal documents straight is helping…how?” Ludelle picked up one of the papers that had landed near her feet, seeing the royal insignia. Before she could read through it, Balvan snatched it away. “Is that not something I should be reading?”
He shook his head. “No, no. Those are just trash. Someone complaining about something, a child asking that you pray to the Weather Gods for a new toy.”
Ludelle put her hands on her hips, the beads pressing into her skin. “That sounds like something I should be aware of.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. Your father always had me take care of this nonsense.”
“I’m not my father, and I don’t appreciate that you assumed that I would rule the same way.” Her father—and by extension, her mother—cared more for their own comfort than the comfort of the court. Ludelle refused to be the same.
Balvan leaned against her bed. “I had asked you before. You must have been off daydreaming, so I figured you had no issue with it.”
“Well don’t do that in the future,” she retorted sharply. “Until words have left my mouth, keep asking. Agreed?” She tilted her head to the side, waiting for him to challenge her.
They stared each other down, but she would not let Balvan win this.
“Alright, I’ll make sure you receive all correspondence moving forward. We must go now.”
He outstretched his hand, and Ludelle reluctantly took it
“Any standouts?” He asked, as he guided her down the hall. Her stride was much shorter in such a tight dress, but she didn’t allow it to make her look weak. She kept her head high, as if her slow stride was intentional.
“You know where my head is at,” she responded.
“Lord Cirrus is not the match you have concocted in your head. Don’t you find him too weak-minded? You’ll get bored so quickly.”
“I find him to be just fine. He’s charming enough to hold an audience, which is a great asset. Don’t you always say I lack that easiness that the people seek? He fits that role.”
“I just think there are better options in that room. His family’s past is…off-putting, to say the least. Just keep your eyes and ears open to them all. His combat training is lackluster I’ve been told, and I know you gravitate towards brutes.”
“I’ll make sure that I pay close attention then during their training test, tomorrow,” Ludelle gritted out. On top of this session today, Balvan had set up some time for the nobles to prove themselves as honorable fighters. He believed that her husband should be an extra layer of protection.
Satisfied with himself, Balvan led her onwards as she prepared herself to enter the lion’s cage.
The gathering room had been transformed from its usual simplicity to true finery. Ice crystals hung from the ceiling, the peeking sun from the windows glistening against them, creating a mosaic of reflections against outrageous sculptures of ice. Mountains, trees, the castle, but the most ostentatious being the bust of her head. It was hideous. The craftsmanship not lacking, just…it felt wrong in this room with all these men who sought her like a prize. Had they been ogling at it as they waited for her?
Plus, it didn’t seem wise to be using up so much ice to make these obscene decorations. They should be preserving it, especially as the power quickly depleted. She took note to speak with Balvan about this would-be offense.
As soon as she passed through the door, the nobles stood up and fanned around her, each bowing and trying to speak to her, desperate to make a good first impression. One of them stayed back, splayed on the back of the blue velvet couch with his legs crossed. She recognized him immediately as Lord Mitah. He looked comfortable and unperturbed by her presence. She understood his strategy immediately, and unfortunately for him, a lack of care did not amuse her or draw her in like he undoubtedly hoped. Or perhaps, he was still bitter about the card game he lost to her when they were younger.
Guards flanked each corner, but Zimyn wasn’t one of them. Good. It was better this way. She wouldn’t be distracted.
Balvan had already left her, too, saying she needed to do this on her own.
“Can I pour you a drink, Queen Ludelle?” One of the nobles asked as he made his way towards the liquor cabinet.
Each of them had a large glass of their own. “Well since you seem to take no issue with being heavy-handed with the castle’s collection, I suppose the Queen should join in, shouldn’t she?” Some of them winced, clearly ashamed. Others cheered her unabashedly.
Taking a swig, she downed the whole thing in one go, then pointed for another. The noble happily obliged, doubling the amount.
“I appreciate a woman who is unafraid to enjoy the festivities. My mother had always declined even a sip of a drink because she worried too much about appearing unsightly. She thought a woman with alcohol in her breath was a disgrace.”
Ludelle narrowed her eyes at the backhanded insult. “What’s your name?”
“Lord Finch.”
“Lord Finch.” she smiled, clinking her glass against his while he smiled back cheerily. She leaned forward and whispered into his ears. “Insult me again, and I will stab you with the bones of your dead mother.” She then straightened herself, the other nobles now watching closely. “Guards, please escort Lord Finch out of the castle.”
Lord Finch’s eyes widened as two guards hauled him away. She could have sworn a tear dripped down his face, and she loved the sight of it.
So…she had only three nobles left to pick from, now. Those three now had put their drinks down on the crystal table that was situated between the two couches. One had his hands behind his back as if he worried that she would chop them off at any moment. It was a pleasing feeling to be respected.
“Please sit.” They all stood around unsure, scratching their heads, so she said more forcefully. “Pick a seat and sit down.”
They listened this time, practically tripping over themselves to find a spot. Amusing would put it lightly. She liked the power she had in these situations. How easy it was to get people to do as she told them to. One of the guards in the corner coughed, as if trying to cover a laugh because he noticed it, too.
Ludelle kept standing though, not letting herself be in a vulnerable position. There were too many instances where men would think they were at the same level as her when she sat down. Plus, her dress made it difficult, but they didn’t need to know that.
“You are all here to court me, so do your best,” she said plainly, shrugging nonchalantly as if she didn’t want to be here. A stain on her day.
Lord Mitah quickly took his chance. He was the first out of his seat, and gracefully stepped up to her. His gray suit with silver thread complemented her dress. A lucky happenstance.
“Queen Ludelle,” he bowed. “May we sit in the corner and chat?”
Ludelle obliged him since she had no other choice in the matter, as they took a spot next to the desserts table. There was everything that a person could dream of: tarts with the freshest fruit, biscuits covered in silver and white icing, and her favorite chocolate cake, which she had to resist.
The other nobles deflated back on the couch, beating themselves up for not getting to her first. Developing patience was an important aspect of the future consort, so she felt no guilt.
“You are a beauty just like they say,” the noble said, as he assessed her, taking stock of all the assets she left on display. The slit that left her leg exposed, and his eyes trailed upwards until they landed on her face.
“Flattery won’t get you far.” she told him, as she straightened her dress. Sitting in it was practically impossible but she adjusted herself to make it work.
“Then, we shall skip all the pleasantries and move on to more serious topics.”
“What topics did you have in mind?” She asked, her pulse quickening.
“The issue of your Undertaking, of course.”
“My Undertaking is my burden. There is no reason to harp on it further than I already do.”
He stretched over and picked a gooseberry and vanilla custard tart. Did he know that was Zimyn’s favorite?
“Well…it concerns me, too, if I am chosen as your betrothed, as I will be the one on the other side thrown into potential danger.” He took a bite, the custard sticking to his lips until he dragged his tongue across it. He moaned lightly. “Has your Captain prepared you?”
“The court’s Captain has been training me since childhood. I am more than ready.” She didn’t appreciate him questioning her abilities—and Zimyn’s—all in one breath.
Although, Ludelle never considered the other side of this. That perhaps the nobles did not want to be in the position of putting their life on the line for a test that rested on Ludelle’s shoulders. She assumed anyone offered the opportunity would just gladly take it.
“What if the danger is of the mind?” Seeing the confusion on her face, he continued, impressed with himself that he’d caught her off guard. “What if instead of a physical threat, your Undertaking strips you bare? Your heart and soul ripped, while you have to piece it back together. Are you ready for that?”
Ludelle shook her head frantically. “There has never been such an Undertaking. I assure you my fighting skills will be tested in some way or another.” Though she wished it wouldn’t. “And even if it is of the mind, I think I have proven myself to you already. I’m sure you remember the tantrum that you threw after I beat you in such a simple game all those years ago.”
His jaw tensed as he brushed the crumbs from his suit. “I hope you are correct, because I wouldn’t take a chance on you otherwise.”
Ludelle gasped, prepared to give him a lashing of her own. How dare he question his Queen? But she didn’t have a chance before the doors opened and Zimyn walked in.