"Nothing, not even the royal blood that coursed through their veins, could ever stop the affectionate feelings the two royals had for each other."
[COMPLETED]
Rankings:
#1 in #frary
#1 in #marystuart
#3 in #reign
#17 in Historical Fiction
#23 in...
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"Your Highness, we will be arriving at French Court shortly."
"Okay, thank you, Martin. It was a lovely journey. Smoothest one I've ever been on." I hollered to Martin, a French coachman who had picked me up from the docks, that was driving the carriage.
"Yes, Miss, it very nice to get through an entire journey without having rebels attack the carriage." Martin called.
"How bad do they get here?" I question. It's happened a few times back home in England when I was aboard, but most of the time, once the attackers saw that I was on the carriage they backed off. I don't entirely know why, but it's become evident that I am more liked by the people over my parents. It's not that the people dislike my parents, but it just seems like I give my country some sort of peace and clarity that they don't. Which I guess is a good thing, considering I will one day be queen.
"Depends. Sometimes it's just a few hungry, homeless men who are looking for food and money, although they learn soon that trying to steal from the royals will get them nowhere."
"And other times?" I turned to the open window that separates us. He still had his back to me, considering he was driving the moving carriage.
"Let's just say that those are the ones you don't want to come in contact with." Martin spoke as the carriage came to a halt.
"I see."
"Here we are, Princess Arabella."
"Thank you. Your company was wonderful." I smiled as I clutched my dress getting ready to stand up.
"Likewise." Martin finally turned to me and smiled.
"Her Royal Highness, Princess Arabella of England." A loud voice spoke as the drapes of the carriage were opened. My eyes met the large crowds of people who had gathered for my arrival. I stepped out of the carriage, seeing my three ladies run up to me. They stopped themselves before curtseying.
"Ladies, how was your journey?" I asked.
"Wonderful, Your Highness." As much as i may try to get these girls to quit using formalities, it will never stop. "Yours?"
"Pleasant." I smiled. Horns sounded as the French royal family was introduced.
"His Royal Highness, King Henry II." The familiar man, who is basically the whole reason of why I am here, walked out. Another woman stood beside who was most definitely not Catherine.
"That can't be Catherine." Josephine spoke behind me.
"It's not." I spoke, continuing to look straight ahead.
"Who is it, Princess?" Josephine questioned.
"Diane de Portiers. The king's mistress."
"So, the rumors are true?" Stella asked, speaking up for the first time since I've seen her here.
