Secrets - Book 7 - The Frencolian Chronicles (complete)

Chapter 1

When a young couple is about to be betrothed, it is customary in Frencolia to give wedding gifts. When both are royal, the gifts are expected to be extremely useful, necessary and expensive, or of historical value making them priceless.

On the day of the betrothal of the First Princess of Frencolia, Jobyna, to the Monarch of Reideaux, King Konrad, the reception chamber of Kings Castle in Frencberg, the capital of the Kingdom of Frencolia, overflowed with numerous practical items as well as valuable treasures of little use other than to be admired. The room became bedecked like an exhibition hall of valuable but randomly placed articles.

A procession of servants streamed in, bearing gifts both precious and rare. Once recorded by scribes, larger gifts were carried back to the foyer for display there.

Ten-year-old Prince Charles, the only royal male in the room, sat in the far corner, in front of an ornate bedside cabinet, one of the first gifts to have arrived. Obeying his father, he drew sketches, using a stick of charcoal with parchment wrapped around it except the drawing end. As he drew and the charcoal stick diminished, Charles peeled back the parchment, discarding it and wiping his fingers on an already blackened kerchief. He had written the corresponding name below before moving to a new piece of parchment. He was happy; this was something he could do of which his father approved and he sensed that his father was proud of his skillful accuracy. Two 'minders', Barnados and Melvahn, assigned to Charles by his father, stood outside the chamber, either side of the door due to the crush of guests inside.

Gathering all of his drawings, Charles stood and bowed towards his cousin Jobyna, the Princess of the day. She was surrounded by royal people and attendants. He left the chamber without being noticed.

Absorbed in the delightful pleasure of opening chests, boxes, bags, and cloth-bound parcels, passing the contents to waiting servants who carefully arranged the gifts in the growing collection, Princess Jobyna, Princess Maia and Lady Ellice, exclaimed their approval each time an article was presented. Guests yet to arrive would visit this chamber later to view the presents. Two scribes recorded each gift and the giver on parchment scrolls.

This is the day! —the thought in so many minds. In a few hours, King Konrad and Princess Jobyna would be betrothed. In these days, betrothal was like marriage, a contract complete, permanent and binding, although its purpose not yet fulfilled. The gifts were for the couple's married life and future together.

Feeling excited, content and safe, Jobyna watched a scribe open a scroll to read the name of the donor of a beautiful highly polished metal vase. Inlaid gold roses, set into metallic emerald-green shone so brilliantly that reflections of people in the room, though distorted, were seen in the petals. In the middle of each flower, exquisite pearls, inset like seeds, glowed abalone colors. Truly the piece was magnificent. Exclamations came from all sides —such an ornament had never been seen. That it was real gold was beyond doubt, the weight of the vase proclaimed this. Simple in shape, the vase was about thirty inches in height.

Princess Maia giggled at the sight of her exaggerated nose and misshapen face. "I look like a pickled gargoyle; but isn't it magnificent? You won't put flowers in this, Jobyna! It's just for looking at. Kenrik and I didn't get a beautiful vase like this —perhaps we'll get one for our wedding. I'd treasure it —I'd keep it in my private sitting room." The princess stroked her palm down the cool metal then traced the gold roses with her forefinger. Her beautiful brown eyes clouded and her face wrinkled into a pout. Her voice whined a little, "I'm homesick already, thinking about that place. You'll only go to Reideaux, Jobyna, but I'll have to go all the way to Chezkovia!" Silence enveloped the chamber.

Few present would wish to live in Chezkovia. The Proburg princesses had bad memories of Chezkovia, due to their time in captivity there. The very name — 'Chezkovia' —brought chills of dread to most Frencolians who felt security in the great distance separating their country and that 'enemy' country.