When a maid of honor to the Queen is rescued by a handsome and contentious pirate, she has to spend three days aboard his ship before returning to court. But is three days time long enough to truly get to know someone? And is English court as diffic...
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Celia and Beatrice rose at dawn to prepare Elizabeth for the day. As undressing the Queen, dressing her was a scrupulous process. First came the gown, which was a process in itself, and then the wig. She had decided to begin wearing wigs only a year prior, which then sparked a movement across the English aristocracy. Wigs had become the highest fashion among the elite, but Celia had opted out of that trend; she was happy with the hair she was graced with.
Makeup was then applied to the Queen. A layer of white base was applied to her face, along with a light dusting of rouge to her lips and cheeks. Occasionally, she would allow her ladies to dabble in her collection of makeup, but it was not often. Elizabeth was a vain woman, and no one was to ever upstage her in looks.
Elizabeth sat at her vanity as Celia fastened a string of diamonds around her neck. She looked in the mirror, three of her ladies standing behind a solemn Celia, and waved a hand in the air. "Leave us," she said simply.
The three ladies, Beatrice included, curtseyed to their Queen and exited the room, leaving Celia alone with Elizabeth. Celia looked down at her feet as silence overcame the two women until Elizabeth turned around to face her.
"You have an empty look in your eye, Celia," Elizabeth said. "It is okay to grieve." She stretched her arm out, offering a hand to Celia, who forced a thin-lipped smiled and took her hand, kneeling at the feet of Elizabeth. "You forget, a queen has feelings, too."
"I did not think you didn't, your Majesty."
"I have lost my mother and many others close to my heart in my battle to keep the crown. Do you know what I have learned from all that loss?" Elizabeth tipped Celia's chin upward with a cool finger, her damp eyes meeting Elizabeth's. "Grieve in privacy; cry and scream, whatever it takes. But in public, you must smile and put on a show. Never let them see you weak."
Celia felt something snap inside of her. The rubber bands that held her emotions together over the course of four days had finally broken, and the tears were unleashed. One by one, the hot droplets fell from her eyes in a constant stream. She buried her face in her hands, utterly embarrassed for acting this way in front of the Queen, but not quite enough to stop. She felt a hand on her shoulder, comforting and small, and she lifted her head.
Elizabeth's eyes were gentle, shining in the crisp daylight that filled the room. "You poor girl. To have lost both your father and sister at once..." Celia wiped away her tears. "I shall send for your mother. She is with her ill sister in Burgundy, correct?" Elizabeth stood from her chair and moved swiftly across the room to a desk that held parchment and ink, sitting down to begin a letter that would summon Lady Wright.
"Oh, no!" Celia scrambled to her feet. Her sharp tone caused Elizabeth to freeze, her neck craning to look at Celia. "Forgive me, your Grace. My mother is in no position to leave my aunt."
"Surely once she receives news of the disappearance of her husband and youngest daughter she will want to be with you."
"I insist, she must stay with my aunt," Celia pleaded. Elizabeth leered her with a suspicious gleam in her dark eyes. Celia sighed, her shoulders falling in defeat. "My mother is not in Burgundy and I have no ill aunt. She has been in Bedlam since my eighth birthday."
"Good Lord," Elizabeth muttered, her eyes widening.
"Please, your Majesty, forgive my father's lies on my mother's whereabouts. But you must understand, our family would be made a laughing stock if the truth had come out."
Elizabeth pursed her lips in thought for moment before relinquishing a sigh. "Of course, I understand. My dear, you truly are alone, aren't you?" Celia clenched her jaw and nodded slightly. "Come here." Elizabeth stood from her seat and took Celia's hands in her own once she made her way across the room. "You shall remain at my side as my most trusted lady in waiting."
"Oh my," Celia breathed in astonishment.
"We shall face the world together. Hm?"
Celia nodded excitedly. "Yes. Thank you, your Grace. I am forever grateful."
"I only ask that you be completely honest with me at all times. A loyal friend is hard to come by these days."
"Of course, your Majesty."
"Good," Elizabeth smiled. "Now, it's time for us to face court. So, put on a smile." Celia did as her Queen said. "Brilliant. You could fool the most dubious of people with that pretty smile. Come along."
♛
The Queen spared no expense when it came to impressing people; she was to be welcoming all of the pirates she had employed to court with a lavish party.
"A masquerade!" Bea gushed when Elizabeth entered her study, leaving her ladies alone in the vast hallway.
Cassandra Greene, an unmarried woman of twenty five years, rolled her dull eyes. "I've been to many in my time at court," she said.
"If she's been to so many, how come she is still unmarried?" Margaret Hammond, a close friend to both Beatrice and Celia, mumbled under her breath loud enough for Cassandra to hear.
Cassandra twisted her lips and huffed with anger. Beatrice and Margaret snickered, but Celia only shook her head. "You two are unbelievable," she said with a slight smile.
"Masquerades are, indeed, great fun. A time for ladies to dress up and flirt with the most handsome of men without reprimand or judgement," Margaret said.
"You've been to one?" Beatrice's eyes lit up with wonder. "Is that where you met Lord Hammond?"
"Yes," she replied. "We were married a month later."
"Oh, perhaps I will find a husband tonight!" Beatrice said with excitement lighting up her blue eyes. "And perhaps Sir Harry will make an advancement on you," she said to Celia.
"Sir Harry?" Cassandra asked, her eyes glinting with intrigue. "The pirate?"
"Hush, Bea," Celia said to Beatrice before turning to Cassandra. "She is a hopeless romantic who believes every man that comes to a woman's aid should be their suitor."
"Oh, Celia," Margaret chimed in. "You have to admit it was rather romantic—being rescued by a pirate."
Celia tossed her eyes, shaking her head. "Don't encourage her, Margaret. If there's one thing I have learned from her Majesty, it's that a woman does not need a man to prosper."
"If you're the Queen of England, yes, that is applicable. However, you are the daughter of Sir Thomas Wright, who is no longer with us. The Queen pities your circumstances and allows you to keep your position, but if she did not, you would be on the streets begging for a morsel of stale bread and selling your maidenhead for a shilling," Cassandra said dryly. "You will be engaged to an old codger by the end of the week and out of her Majesty's hair for good."
"Lady Cassandra, it would do you good to watch your tongue. Putting words in the Queen's mouth is as good as treason," Margaret said.
"Quite right, Lady Margaret," Elizabeth said, her voice modulated. The ladies curtseyed as the Queen came into view. "Come. We must greet Sir Walter Raleigh in the throne room." The ladies rose to their full height and waited for Elizabeth to make the first move so they could follow behind, but Elizabeth's eyes landed on Celia before she began to walk. "Mistress Celia," she said. "Join me, won't you?"
"Of course, your Majesty," Celia replied as she moved to the Queen's side.
As they began to further down the hall, she could hear Cassandra mumble under her breath behind her, which only made Celia's posture straighter and chin higher, a smile curling her lips upward with triumph.
