[Lesley Castle in Aquitian~]
"Regardez! Look Papa! Look Maman! She has arrived! Elle est arrivée!"
The small countess ran and slid on the marble floors smoothly into the arms of her father, the Archduke, who laughed heartily as he approached the wide arched balcony to see the glittering gold insignia of the Cintanian ship growing larger on the horizon.
Phaeln and his mother, the Archduchess, trailed behind them more slowly with more decorum, but they too looked brightly into the sunlit sky with excitement.
"The Cintans…hmpf! They are so obsessed, the whole lot of them, with all their gold decorations."
"Now, ma cherie, my darling Agaline...remember, you promised not to hold her Cintanianess against her."
"Do not worry, Pelias. I shall greet her warmly enough," the Archduchess smiled measuredly towards her husband's teasing face but her lively eyes betrayed her amusement and her equal excitement.
As his family bantered playfully bantered, the young Marquis, Phaeln, remained silent but he nervously fingered his cuffs repeatedly. He did not wish to look so nervous, especially as his friend, the neighboring Duke of Alcas, Lord Aymer was also standing besides him, waiting to greet the Marquis's bride.
"Well, I never expected to see the Marquis so unsettled," Aymer laughed as he spotted Phaeln's fiddling fingers.
"It's not everyday that one first meets his bride, Aymer," Phaeln smiled embarrassedly as his cheeks flamed red with the discovery, "I cannot wait until it is my turn to laugh at your nervous twiddlings."
"I am certain that your bride is madly in love with you. The myth of you Lesley men reach far and wide, I hope you know; girls like that sort of thing," the Duke continued to tease as he canted his head back with laughter.
Phaeln rolled his eyes in jest but he readjusted the expression on his visage as the Cintan ship loomed close to disembarkment.
The young Marquis's gift from the Church, Maid Naomi, watched the happy family portrait from behind a large spiraling column, peeking at the large looming ship with trepidation.
After years of interbreeding between the various lords of the 27 Houses, and the titled nobility under them, the Church had decided that it be best if the heirs were to be bred with the help of these so-called Handmaidens—pretty young common women plucked from various economic backgrounds and trained under the Church's tutelage to be graceful ladies of the court—to create a more diverse, less in-bred future.
Maid Naomi had arrived years earlier and at first glance, fell deeply in love with the handsome Marquis. Unfortunately, he failed to return her affection in league with the tradition of the Lesley men. He was to be faithful to his wife and wife only. So the young handmaiden, she could only swallow her love and was instead to be treated more like an aunt and governess for the future progeny between the Marquis and his future bride.
Maid Naomi understood that her fate was a kind privilege as the Lesley family was kind to her and had developed a certain fondness for the beautiful, rather intelligent appearing Naomi; particularly the young Countess, who liked to believe that Maid Naomi was her special friend.
Still, Maid Naomi also comprehended that there was a significant difference in the kindness given to a courtier of no serious consequence, an insignificant person that posed no competition, and the power and love that came with being the birth mother of the future heir to a noble house. However welcoming and kind the Lesleys were, Maid Naomi understood that it was because she was ultimately of no importance. And this fact was not quite as blazingly painful as the moment when it was for the Cintanian Infanta to arrive, as the poor Handmaid knew that her window of opportunity had now closed due to the Lesley men's notorious devotion to monogamy, and the Maid could only look on to the arrival of her rival, the princess, who had already won by her lucky draw in fate, with a bitter taste in her mouth.
"Phaeln, qu'est-ce que c'est? What is that word on the side? Las sirenas?" the young countess asked bounding about in excitement.
"Breathe, Parmalis! You shall exhaust yourself with all that bouncing…" her mother, Archduchess Agaline spoke with kind exasperation.
"Phaeln, what does that word mean?" the young countess repeated impatiently.
"It means les sirènes…sirens, like Poséidon's daughters, beautiful women who live in the seas. C'est élégant, n'est-ce pas? It is elegant, right?"
"Yes, it is so very beautiful," Parmalis leapt towards her brother, before asking earnestly, her green eyes growing wide as tea saucers, "Do you think that I can have a ship like that when I get married?"
"You shall have the world, ma chérie," her father laughed at her eagerness.
As they all laughed at her enthrallment, the young countess began to pout but as Phaeln kissed her cheeks, she broke into a wide cheery grin as well, brushing aside her red hair strands that escaped from her glittering diadem, a radiating series of bright sapphires and diamond encrusted arches that resembled the arcuate entrances of the Lesley Castle.
"I wish that I could have such a thing of beauty," she sighed into her brother's shoulder before looking a little desolate, "But I don't see myself ever getting one."
"You are so young," Phaeln laughed into her hair, "There will be plenty time for you to have one."
"I'm sure your brother will ensure that you are set off in grand style," Aymer laughed as well but sobered when he saw the young countess's green eyes set themselves onto his.
"No," she shook her head, very confused, "It's not for me...and not for you as well. Not really."
Aymer and Phaeln looked at one another, perplexed by the young girl's wistful ramblings, half-prophetic and half-pleading.
"Parmalis, what silliness are you distracting your brother and the Duke with," Agaline interceded and nodded towards Nuit to gather the suddenly downcast countess from her brother's arms, "We must all continue to smile, or else we may frighten your brother's bride. Remember, she is a stranger here, we must be kind to her for she has left her family to become ours."
They all nodded in acknowledgement with the Archduchess's sage wisdom and looked towards the ship, now unloading, with all the resumed excited anticipation.
Meanwhile inside the Las Sirenas, the Cintanian Infanta, the Princess Téresitte, was beside herself with fear and nervousness in her grand wedding ship. She was the second daughter of the King of Cintan and his beloved mistress, Maid Sarai. His wife, Queen Helitorïsae, failed to have any children of her own and hated how Sarai had four, two daughters and two sons—but she was one of the countless maidens who gave the King children. Queen Helitorïsae did not have any relationship with the sons, who without competition were rude and proud as heir presumptives, but the lonely Queen did feel some affection for sweet Téresitte, who was gentle and kind unlike her vivacious gregarious birth mother. Thérèsine, Téresitte's elder sister was very much like her mother, so she failed to win any of the Queen's affections but reaped her father's—so much so that she married a very advantageous match to the Voreii family, a geographically nearby noble house.
Téresitte knew the Marquis Lesley only thorough letters. She had known since the age of eight that she was to marry the handsome Marquis of the wealthy and illustrious Lesley family of Aquitaine. She was not very interested in the beginning, dismissing his constant letters until she decided to reply back when she reached the age of twelve. And after four years, they were in constant communication through eloquent and long letters. He had even sent his likeness two years before she was to arrive and she was quite intrigued by the handsomeness of his soft beauty.
When she had watched her wedding trousseau being prepared for her departure to Aquitian, Téresitte had sighed desolately as she became aware of how she was probably never to return to Cintan. As she had shed a few tears about the departure, Téresitte was greeted by the Queen, who had come to give her favorite pseudo-daughter a parting gift.
"Do not cry princessa, my Infanta. You do not realize how lucky you are. You are getting the most advantageous match…the Lesley men are notorious for their fidelity and trust me, little one, that is the most important thing one can possess."
"I know, your Highness, but Aquitian is so far away from you, from Cintan…it is not fair how Voreii is so close! Thérèsine can come visit Cintan…or at the very least she can see the orange groves in the horizon…"
"Yes…but what good is that? All that will accomplish is to exacerbate her desire to come back to Cintan. And I can assure you she will very soon realize what it is like to be heartsick, which is far more devastating then homesickness. Having all the titles but owning nothing…you will see how you will be the only one smiling. And now, before you go, I wanted to give you something to help you remember your home…how you are an Infanta of Cintan!" Queen Helitorïsae had smiled as she presented Téresitte with a bejeweled casket.
When she had opened it the young princess exclaimed in shock.
"Oh! Your highness! It is so beautiful…it is your…" the princess had stammered as she realized the significance of the elaborate pendant presented to her.
"Si, it is the Flower of Cintan and it is yours. Wear it proudly, and show the world how you, MY daughter is the flower of Cintan," the Queen had smiled as she pulled the princess into an embrace, "I shall miss you, little one."
Téresitte was wearing the ornate pendant from her neck and clasped it to her chest as she saw the elegant palace surrounded by elaborate topiaries and glittering sea. When she caught sight of the noble family awaiting her under the high marble arches of the wide balconies, she gasped and muttered to herself for the Marquis' physical appearance had exceeded her expectations. His dark auburn hair fluttered in the breeze as he jovially spoke to a little girl who looked very much like him. The Infanta felt herself smiling at the cordial appearing family and her anxiety became somewhat alleviated. As they approached the gate, her ladies quickly lowered her gold-laced mantilla as the ship lowered itself to a stop.
The Lesley family looked with great anticipation as her procession started. The young countess's eyes widened as she saw a beautiful figure, clad entirely in gold, silver, and white lace, float up the marble steps with a strew of dark haired women close behind her.
The Marquis approached her regally and smiled kindly as he took her small gloved hand and presented her to his family.
"Welcome, Princess of Cintan to our home, Aquitian."
"Bienvenue Princess! Welcome to Aquitian!" the Countess ran to the angelic figure and embraced the princess tightly much to the surprise of all the court.
"Countess Parmalis!" Maid Graciana whispered in a worried tone as she ran after the young girl.
"Thank you, Countess. It is a pleasure to meet you finally," the Infanta smiled as she embraced the Countess back before the two went to complete introductions.
Meanwhile the Marquis turned to his friend, the Duke of Alcas, with all the joy of the world captured on his face.
"I never believed in such silly things as love at first sight. But I can't believe that I ever had such doubts. Aymer, I sincerely hope that you may find a Téresitte yourself," the young Marquis smiled fondly was he regarded his young bride.
"No one is comparable to the Infanta. You've simply won the lottery, I'm afraid, my dear friend," the Duke spoke in jest as he two watched his friend's Cintanian princess laughing with the playful Countess.
"But honestly, dear friend," Phaeln looked towards the young duke who was brushing back his silver blonde locks, "Do you not have anyone in mind?"
"I'm not certain that marriage is for me," the Duke laughed.
"Perhaps, but one day you may find yourself lonely," Phaeln spoke wistfully as he continued to smile in the direction of his bride and his sister, "I have heard that you have refused the Handmaidens as well. You've sent back two already to the Holy City."
"My father had plenty, so I'm sure that I can be reprieved of one for the time being," the Duke laughed.
"You know I admire you friend," Phaeln turned to look at the Duke and gave a concerned smile, "But perhaps our system may work better for you, rather than a downright refusal. They don't take those slights very well you know, the people in the Holy City."
"I am well aware of their reach," the Duke responded gravely before casting his eyes downwards.
"I just hope happiness for you, that is all," Phaeln spoke softly before perking up brightly, "After all, you are more than just a friend. You are my brother! I need one to help look after that one," Phalen nodded towards the bouncing Countess, "She is certainly too much for just me to look after!"
The two broke loudly into laughter as the young countess tripped and was swooped up into the arms of her silent vassal, Nuit, before any tears were to fall from her face. And the Duke nodded amiably first, then more slowly as he began to see that the young countess would need not just Phaeln, but him as well for in a flash, he spotted the star, the same as his Aunt Aenor, the same as the one that marked his knee, also there on the young countess at the nape of her neck, winking indecently with the terrible fate it promised, before her long scarlet hair fell back covering it.