Slaying the Silence

Chapter Seven

When Aria awoke, full sunlight streamed in from the two floor-length windows.  She started and looked frantically towards the timepiece on her vanity.  Once she saw the time, however, she sighed and lay back.  It was only half-past seven; she had not missed anything.

A knock came at the door, followed by Genevieve's cheery voice.  "Bonjour, Mademoiselle!  May I enter?" 

"Yes," Aria called out, rising from her bed.

The maid entered carrying a tray set with a teacup and several pastries.  "I trust you are feeling better, Mademoiselle?" she asked. 

"Yes,  Genevieve.  Thank you."  Aria fingered the linen wrapped about her neck.  In truth, she had all but forgotten the wound.

"Very good."  The maid grinned and set the tray down on a nearby table.  "Monsieur le Marquis requested that your breakfast be brought to you.  Would you like to eat first, or dress?"

"Merci, Genevieve.  I will dress."

The maid beamed again and opened Aria's wardrobe.  One gown in particular caught her eye as she scanned the various dresses that hung there.  She held it out for Aria to see.  "May I recommend this one, Mademoiselle?"

"It is beautiful," she remarked, half to herself.  "It was my mother's." 

A sad look crossed the maid's face.  "Shall I choose a different one, my lady?"

"There is no need," Aria reassured her, shaking her head.  "Your choice is wonderful."

The young woman helped Aria into the dress, deftly smoothing down the skirts and tying various laces.  When she finished, she stepped and scanned the gown with a critical eye.  After a moment, she nodded in satisfaction and grinned.  "You look lovely, Mademoiselle."  

Aria blushed.  "Merci."       

Genevieve smiled and gestured towards the table.  "Please, my lady, eat.  Gather your strength for your journey."

Aria nodded and sat.  After uttering a brief prayer, she began to seat.  When nearly half of the meal had been finished, she gently dabbed her mouth with a cloth and rose.  "There you are, Genevieve.  The rest is yours."

It had become a sort of tradition.  Whenever a meal would be served in her bedchambers, Aria would only eat half of it, and the rest would go the servant who had brought it.  It was now routine, and Aria scarcely had to think of it. 

Genevieve curtsied and grinned.  "Thank you, my lady."

She quickly removed the tray, taking it with her to the servants' quarters.  Aria smiled and turned to her vanity.   She quickly ran a comb through her hair, more or less smoothing it down. It was acceptable. She had long since accepted better results as wishful thinking.

Soon, another knock came at the door.   "Come in," Aria called out.

Marie entered, a small, sad smile on her face.  "My father's men have arrived to bring me home."

She walked up to Aria and wrapped her in a brief hug.  "I am to depart now."

Aria pulled away reluctantly.  "Very well.  Goodbye, Marie."

"Goodbye.  Please, be careful at Versailles."

She did not have to elaborate.  Aria nodded, her expression grave.  Marie smiled and pressed Aria's hands in her own. "May God's blessing go with you."