Medicine | King Baldwin

15

The soft tendrils of morning sunlight gently filtered through the window, casting a warm glow that stirred Isabel from her slumber. With a sudden jolt, her eyes fluttered open, the realization dawning upon her that today marked the eagerly anticipated morning meal in the company of the king. With a swift motion, she shrugged off the covers and made her way to the window, her steps light with anticipation.

Pulling back the heavy curtains, she welcomed the flood of sunlight into the room, its golden beams casting a radiant halo upon her pale skin. Through the open window, she gazed out onto the courtyard below, already alive with the hustle and bustle of the early morning. The air was alive with the sounds of servants scurrying about, preparing for the day ahead, while the distant chatter of courtiers echoed in the distance.

"Lady Isabel." the door burst open with a suddenness that made Isabel jump, her eyes darting towards the entrance where an older, diminutive woman entered. Her hair was concealed beneath a long, flowing veil, and her attire bore a striking resemblance to that of Jeanette's.

The newcomer, with an air of authority about her, approached Isabel with purpose, her eyes scanning the room before settling on her. Despite her small stature, there was a commanding presence to her demeanor that demanded attention.

"Good morning." Isabel greeted the woman with a hint of surprise coloring her voice as she turned towards her. Her brows furrowed slightly in confusion before she addressed her with courtesy. "Who might you be?" she inquired, her tone maintaining a respectful demeanor, even though the woman had barged into her chamber.

"I am Osane, one of the attendants to Princess Sibylla." the woman introduced herself with a nod, her eyes carrying a resemblance to Asif's. "As far as I know, you have a breakfast engagement with the king." Her tone was composed, though a hint of urgency lingered beneath her words.

"Y-yes." Isabel replied, her voice tinged with a hint of apology. "I apologize for the surprise, but usually Jeanette assists with the preparations." With a nod towards Osane, she took a seat as indicated.

"You are having breakfast with the king. Don't inquire." she stated with a frosty tone, her fingers wrapping around the handle of a comb.

As Osane began to comb Isabel's hair with a roughness that contrasted sharply with Jeanette's gentle touch, she couldn't help but wince with each pull. Her face betrayed her discomfort, but Osane seemed undeterred, her actions growing even more forceful. It was evident to Isabel that the servant harbored some resentment towards her, though she couldn't discern the reason behind it.

She felt the urge to address the issue, but ultimately restrained herself, opting to avoid any potential confrontation.

Osane deftly crafted Isabel's hair into an elegant chignon, carefully gathering and twisting the locks into a sophisticated bun at the nape of her neck. With practiced precision, she secured stray strands in place with delicate hairpins, creating a timeless and refined look befitting of the occasion.

The dress that Osane brought for Isabel was a breathtaking ensemble crafted from rich velvet in a deep shade of sapphire blue. Its bodice was intricately embroidered with delicate silver thread, forming elegant patterns that shimmered in the light. The neckline dipped modestly, adorned with small, iridescent pearls that added a touch of opulence to the garment.

"Follow me." Osane motioned as she exited the chamber, prompting Isabel to quickly trail behind. Leading the way, Osane guided Isabel through the corridors, her steps growing increasingly distant from the direction of the dining hall. Sensing something amiss, Isabel cast a puzzled glance at Osane, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Excuse me, shouldn't we be going in the other direction?" Isabel inquired, prompting Osane to address her once again.

"I've already informed you." Osane reiterated firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument as she continued to stride forward without looking back. "Don't inquire." Her words carried a note of finality, signaling that further inquiries would not be tolerated. Reluctantly, Isabel complied, though a sense of unease gnawed at her.