Fallen From Grace

Part 1

She had been there from the beginning. A shadow in the back ground no one paid attention to. She was a witness to one of the most influential monarchs of the time and hated every minute of it. She wasn't even considered a lady by most but by others she was the most sought after companion. Maybe it was her ability to stay in the shadows but whatever the case she knew everyone's secrets. Secrets she didn't even want to know, secrets that could mean death.

She had been brought to court at a young age; the daughter of a disgraced Lord and an Irish mother. Her father, who had been married with five other children, had met her mother on one of his many travels. Her mother had told her it was an affair of love and passion but duty had taken him away from them. Her mother, always the dreamer, had believed it was true love and not a one-time fling. She on the other had known different, that love didn't exists, nothing more than a fairy tale told to young girls to soften the blow when they were sold to the highest bidder.

Oh yes the joy of a young girls life was for a good match always arranged by whatever male guardian or relative was available to them. One would only hope he would be a good man. She however had no worries. She was a bastard child, an unwanted. No men would be lining up for her. She wasn't too sad by this but it also meant she had no tittle, or status. No income and no lands but with her head down low they soon forgot she was there, all but one.

When her mother had died she had no other living relatives, no kin and no one willing to take her in so at the ripe young age of twelve she was sent to live at French court with her father's family. Her father had welcomed her with open arms. His children all mostly grown and his wife unable to give him more. He loved his children no doubt and quickly integrated her into his life and home. His wife, however and children didn't like having her around. She was a reminder of his wandering eye. So she had spent a lot of time at her father's side, in court, on hunts and rides. It had been some of the happiest time in her life. That was also when she had meant him. Him, with his careless hair, captivating eyes and caring personality. Much like her there were those who felt he didn't belong at court. He was also a bastard, the son of the king by his mistress. But like her, he was his father's favorite. This worked to their advantage for the time being.

In the beginning they didn't really talk, just the polite greetings and acknowledgments, a passing acquaintance. Then one day he found her in the stables, crying. Her step sister who had always been unkind to her, had taken it upon herself to cut the young girls red curls while she slept. She had been so upset by it and distort that she had run to the stables. She always felt safe there and would spend several hours playing in the loft with whatever animal had made it their home. At the moment it was a mother with six kittens. She remembered climbing the ladder and finding the baby kittens curled up in the straw of the loft. Here she could be completely alone and wallow in self-pity. Here she didn't have to face anyone or anything and here is where he found her. At first she didn't hear him, she was so focused on the little black kitten she held in her arms. Then she heard him speak his name very quietly and cautiously. She snapped her tear stained face up to meet his gaze. All she saw was concern on his face, so unlike anything else she had seen on anyone else's face where she was concerned.

"Amelia?" He asked her again as he approached her once again and sat down next to her. She studied his friendly gaze she wiped her tears on her damp sleeves. She didn't trust very well, but something about his mere presents seemed to calm and sooth her. She didn't answer at first and he seemed to accept that as he reached over to pet the kitten she held. "You should give him a name." She just kind of shrugged her shoulders. "Do you want to tell me why such a pretty girl is so sad?" This only succeeded in her bursting into tear again. He then wrapped his arm around her pulling her against his side. This simple act was the single most comforting acts anyone had ever given her. She finally became brave enough to show him, pulling of the make shift scarf that had covered her now damaged hair. She couldn't look him in the eyes and casted them downwards. She had expected him to laugh at her instead he said nothing. He then used his thumb and forefinger to tip her head up so that she was looking at him. His vivid green eyes met her steely gray ones. She swallowed hard trying to hold back the tears. His gaze wasn't mocking her, which she had expected instead they showed concern with a hint of anger. She felt her hands tighten her hold on the scarf that she held in her lap. He then asked her in a very serious tone.