The Widow

Chapter Three: Black Raven Cane

There was no turning back now, Emelie could not change her mind, beg her father to end this marriage, or even run away to the nearest boat that would sail anywhere. No, she was stuck in France, where the morning did not start in a gloomy crisp chill, the sun did not hide itself behind clouds, and her step-mother could not interrupt her daydreaming. Emelie stood by the window like every morning, no matter where her family dragged her off to. Her view pointed directly down at the courtyard where Prince Ouen was practicing his sword fighting.

There's no doubt the king gave her this room so she can watch her future husband from afar, to get use to his morning routines and drool over his strong physique. The summer air wasn't any help in keeping him from sweating like a fat man in a sauna, his thin shirt was drenched, hair was down in his face- no matter what he did to push it back, it found a way to fall into his eyes.

"Do I see drool rolling down your chin?"

Emelie jumped away from the window while turning to see who has caught her in the most terrible time. "Talia, I did not hear you come in."

The young princess looked slightly normal from when Emelie first saw her. Powder did not cover her face, her blonde hair were down where only the top half were pulled back into a bun, and her dress was a dull color of blue to match her eyes. She stepped to Emelie, the same friendly smile upon her face that made her future sister-in-law relax. "Oh yes, my father made sure to keep the doors silent as possible, it's to help him sneak around the palace without mother knowing. You must get dress, grandmother will be back from London any minute."

Mother of Dion, Queen Martha of Chartres and youngest daughter of King Henry the fifth of England. Emelie immediately grew nervous from just thinking about the woman, she only saw her a few times when she were younger, she could never forget those piercing cold hazel eyes that made her run the other way. However, one time the old woman handed her a delicious apple, but still held the hard cold stare.

"Grandmother is vey old fashion, this is why I'm dressed in these dreadful clothing."

Emelie gave Talia a once over to realize her normal old fashion clothing is way better than Emelie's ball gown. "I see." That's all she could say without pouting at her lack of rich fabric.

Clapping her hands twice very loudly, the silent doors opened by two maids that rushed in, immediately getting to work by dragging Emelie in the small stool in front of the mirror and taking her hair while another went to pick out a decent dress from her luggage- it was a hard search, but the maiden managed to find something.

After the harsh brushing, corset tightening, lungs a second away from giving out as her waist threatened to expand; Emelie and Talia joined the others in front of the palace doors, where the duke and duchess were waiting as well. Abigail brows raised from the visible view of Emelie's cleavage, which was the normal style for women her age to show the top part of their cleavage, the older woman didn't say anything regarding the style- mainly because Queen Elizabeth showed far more cleavage than any other woman in the palace.

The gates opened to show the large black stallions that could of been able to breath fire, in Emelie's young imagination at least, their hooves shook the earth, nostrils flared and blew steam on every step, eyes pitch black, their chariot was slim, pale as a ghost, face looked as if it's been sucked dry, eyes pitched black as he sat upon the dark purple and blue carriage. The sunny day became gloomy, storm clouds formed above them as crows swarmed around like vultures. That's how the entry of Queen Martha felt in Emelie's mind, she could already feel the old woman's hard cold stare that made her want to hide behind her father, but she kept her grounded by lifting her chin a little higher and taking a small breath that the corset would allow.