La Douleur Exquise

Chapter One

She sat forward as the coach lurched to a gentle stop. Opening the door she stepped out onto the loading platform and held up her skirts as she made her way carefully down the wooden steps and into the tents and stalls of the festival's market, past the giant poles flying the English flag and sporting long strings of colorful streamers. Confetti dotted the snow and warm chatter accompanied by fogged breath filled the air like a chorus making a blended buzz that echoed off the very ground.

As she passed a vendor the smell of fresh baked goods wafted her way mixed with the sharp scent of incense and seasoning. Moving through the crowd she spotted a young man playing the violin with an open case filled with various coins tossed in heaps at his feet, a scattered group of children clustered around a man with bright carrot colored hair juggling with a rainbow assortment of balls, and a fire breather with a circle of melted snow and charred grass around his heels.

Grinning in amazement she turned to see a large crowd surrounding a wooden stage where a man was giving a speech on the election as a few men hefted a throne resembling chair up the steps to the platform. Rushing to the back of the crowd she peered through the sea of shoulders and large plumed hats to the pleasantly plump man. He wore a suit and had large black mustache. A tall hat perched on his balding head. He was speaking so quickly spittle was collecting at the corners of his mouth. Clamors of laughing and chatter drowned him out and only a few people listened in respectful politeness. He was making a point about the success of the Queen's monarchy when a bugle sounded and a man in a white suit emerged from the sound escorting a very short woman in all black her face obscured by a mysterious veil.

Watching in bewilderment, the young girl attempted to move forward to get a better look and accidentally bumped into someone sidestepping into the ocean of spectators with the same idea.
'No wonder!' She thought as she caught a glimpse of him. 'He's so short!'
She was thrown off balance and grabbed onto his shoulder to catch it, pushing him backward more than she planned and they tumbled towards the ground.
'He's so light!'
The boy let out a yelp and caught himself on a elegantly carved black cane topped with a skull and straightened quickly. Stumbling right before hitting the ground and brushing herself awkwardly, blood began flooding her cheeks. She heard someone clear their throat. Straightening suddenly she rose to eye level with a boy. He had black hair tinted navy by the sun and an eyepatch concealing one eye. His nose was tilted upwards so he was looking down on the poor girl, his eyes narrowed irritably.
"Please watch where you're going, peasant." He droned. Her blush drained away replaced by a sneer; she scoffed in her throat and almost laughed.
"Usually I would smack you, but I've already managed to barrel you over when you got in my way, so let's pretend I curtsied, apologized, and left the festival in humiliation of knocking over such an important noble." Her voice steadily built up to a yell and people turned to watch in curiosity.

Turning on her heel, she stormed off angrily, fuming. The boy stood there, eyes narrowed down at her retreating footsteps in the snow. A man with raven black hair and crimson eyes walked up behind him smirking smugly. Ignoring him, the boy's single deep blue eye followed her as she circled around to the opposite side of the stage.
"Is that her, Sebastian?"
"Yes I believe so, my young lord."
"An interesting choice, I suppose."
"Yes."
He looked up at the man eye full of boredom.
"I want to leave now."
The man nodded and they turned to leave. Crossing her arms and looking fairly hurt, she forced herself to watch the end of the speech. What a bastard. Nobles like him were such brats. Letting out a sigh she wished Lucille could have been there to make sure she didn't humiliate herself. She hadn't noticed the speech had come to a close and quickly joined in with the polite smatter of applause. The man removed his hat and backed away, bowing. The man in the white suit stepped forward to the Queen's side as she lowered herself into the throne gracefully and crossed her legs. She whispered something to him and the whole crowd fell silent, seeming to lean forward in attempt to catch a word. There was a long silence.

The man put a hand to his chest and bowed slightly before stepping to center stage and running a hand through pure white locks. A woman besides the girl giggled and blushed raising a gloved hand to her mouth.
"No wonder he would be the Queen's butler! It's Grey!"
His rich voice accented with English superiority rang out over the now silent contestants of the festival.
"The Queen-may God save her-" the crowd echoed condolences and the Queen dipped her head-"would like to make it evident that the nominees of the new representative will be announced shortly. Next week the Queen's current representatives will hold a series of parties to observe these lucky selected few. The successor that passes the expectations and situational tests prevailed upon them will graduate to a proxy of the Queen's name!" The girls in the audience chattered in excitement and young men straightened ties. The butler gestured to the spokesman without even glancing at him.
"Monsieur, would you do the honors of drawing the contestants' names?"
The man stepped back up graciously and reached a hand into the hat, drawing a slip of paper.
"And the first contestant is..."