Her Rightful Place

36: The Sanctification

Monique wanders through the hallways of the palace aimlessly, having no idea where Christelle and the Duke might have gone. With every noteworthy inhabitant of the palace, and several dignified guests besides, occupied in the matter of Mireille's Holy Sanctification, practically the entire palace would be available for the would-be lovers to explore. But Christelle, I suspect, will be rather more of a tease than the Duke was bargaining for. Then again, they have had near six hours to themselves... With a start, she remembers Christelle's frequent mentions of the Duke's stately canine companion and changes course for the blonde's favorite gardens. Of all the places she suspects Christelle would wish to show the Duke of Pelanshire, that one tops the list. She is not disappointed; once she enters the same hall as the door to the garden, she hears a yelp that sounds distinctly like Christelle.

"What's the matter? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Jerôme demands, sounding a bit breathless.

"It's stuck!" Christelle exclaims.

"What do you mean, it's stuck? Here, maybe if I--"

"Don't do that! Here, if we pull it this way--"

"It won't go that way! The only thing to do is to keep going--"

"Of course it can go that way!"

"I assure you, it will be much better for you if I--" Monique can hardly believe her ears and, with some trepidation, opens the door to the garden, effectively interrupting the Duke with her intrusion. Both he and Christelle stare at Monique, Christelle's cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. The Duke, who is kneeling behind his lady trying to free her skirt from where it caught on a particularly malevolent bramble bush, seems completely unruffled, as does his dog Enzo, who sits nearby surveying the situation with one eyebrow raised.

"This is exactly what it looks like," he informs Monique in his most matter-of-fact tone before returning his attention to Christelle. With a single, swift movement of his hand, he frees Christelle's skirt from the clutches of its thorny captor. "And there's no need for you to be embarrassed, my sweet. You have lovely legs." The blonde duchess slaps his shoulder for this remark as he rises to his feet, however well-intentioned his words may have been. The Duke takes it in good humor, wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

"Yes, Monique? I presume you have a purpose in interrupting us," Christelle prompts with cool annoyance.

"I simply came to inform you that Her Highness, the Princess Mireille's, Holy Sanctification ceremony has ended without incident and that now said Princess is most indisposed and resting in her room. She wishes for you to be present, in case the Queen again tries to make her attend some official function. And it is no doubt high time that His Excellency, your friend the Duke of Pelanshire, returned to his royal duties in Mordalce. If I am not mistaken, his work has been quite demanding of late, and it seems most unfair to leave His Highness, Price Xavier of Mordalce, to deal with that business unaided," Monique replies carefully in uncharacteristically diplomatic language. Christelle's eyes widen with realization, for it seems that she has until this discourse forgotten her best friend and the trials she faced.

"We'll see to her at once," Christelle decides. She gathers her skirts so that she can run as she hurries out of the garden, and the Duke, with Enzo at his heels, follows her, no doubt hoping to catch another sight of those lovely legs. Monique dashes to catch up with Christelle, wanting an explanation for the conversation she overheard.

"How would he have hurt you?" Monique asks Christelle, keeping her voice low in the vain hopes that the Duke will not overhear.

"We were playing a childish game, that's all. Certainly nothing to worry about," Christelle replies dismissively. She is still annoyed that her time with Jerôme has been cut short, no matter how noble the cause may be. Annoyed as she is, she travels quite swiftly through the corridors, and Monique takes the opportunity to pretend that she cannot keep up, thus falling in step with the Duke instead.