The Royal Agency

♕~Chapter One~♕

It started with a botched etiquette lesson.

Princess Hazel of Avaehan couldn't stand sitting perfectly still, her posture impeccably straight, her breathing utterly silent, her face flawlessly serene, as she poured a few cups of tea. She didn't even like tea, as much as she tried to make herself enjoy it.

Her governess and tutor, Julia, stood in front of Hazel, her eyes scanning every part of the princess for 'imperfections'.

Hazel supposed she liked Julia enough, as she was gentle and encouraging and a good teacher, but Hazel was also almost sixteen! She didn't need a governess anymore.

Then again, Julia had practically raised the princess by herself, after Hazel's mother had died. Hazel's father, the king, could never quite seem to forgive his daughter for one small thing: the fact that she was a girl.

Most modern monarchies had moved past the patrilineal line of succession, but Hazel's father was old-fashioned. His first wife, Hazel's mother, had only given him a daughter before she died of an illness when Hazel was around seven years old. Less than a year later, Hazel's father had remarried to a widowed noblewoman who had one son, two years younger than Hazel herself. The king seemed to favor his stepson as his successor over his own daughter, but the public saw Hazel as the rightful heir to the throne. Hazel's stepmother hated her for that. The princess couldn't ignore all the venomous glances that the new queen always threw her, all the condescending remarks and scoldings about the slightest mistakes. And the fact that she looked exactly like her mother, the former queen, who had been beloved by the kingdom, probably didn't help. She knew her stepmother wanted her own son on the throne, and she seemed like the kind of woman who would do anything to get what she wanted.

"Relax your shoulders," Julia said, her voice firm yet gentle. "Remember, grace and poise are essential qualities for royalty such as yourself."

Hazel wished she could roll her eyes, but that would only earn her more reproofs. She let the tension out of her shoulders as she set down the porcelain teapot.

Julia walked over to the table as Hazel held her posture. She picked up a teacup just as the doors to the royal classroom burst open.

Hazel jumped in her seat, but Julia simply looked up, like she was expecting the intrusion. The bright winter sunlight shone in Hazel's face, but she didn't squint.

Hazel's stepmother, Queen Andrea, walked into the room, her long dark green dress trailing behind her. Her long brown locks were held up in an intricate web of curls, braids, and hairpins, on top of which was her crown. Dark green jade earrings hung from her ears, and a matching jade and gold necklace was set at her throat. As always, she wore too much makeup that was expected for a lady of high class, with smoky green eyeshadow and dark red lipstick. Hazel couldn't see her feet, but she knew her stepmother wore those ridiculously high stilettos that Hazel couldn't even take three steps in.

Hazel stood, and Julia curtsied, as was expected. With a flick of the queen's wrist, Julia was dismissed from the room.

Hazel froze in place, almost not daring to breathe as the queen circled around her, like a predator around its prey. Her stepmother paused in front of the table.

"The tablecloth is crooked," she noted.

Hazel tried not to glare daggers at her as she continued.

"This teacup has too much tea in it. This one isn't filled up enough. You didn't take the cap off the sugar basin. And," she lifted a teacup to her lips and took a sip. "The tea is too weak."

Hazel sighed internally. Nothing would ever please this woman. Last week the tea had been 'too strong', according to her.

"Come now," the queen said. "Practice your curtsy."