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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

Thérèse didn't sleep at all that night. She laid in her bed until the winter sun came seeping softly through the windows. She could hear the castle waking up around her as she dressed. The sound of gentle, low-buzzing speech and dishes clinking in the distance. She dressed quickly and went immediately to Brigitte's room. She entered without knocking and found Brigitte still in her nightgown. She was in front of the mirror putting on a pair of pearl earrings. She saw Thérèse come in in the reflection and smiled. As Brigitte turned to speak to Thérèse, her smile disappeared. 

"What's wrong?" she asked. Thérèse couldn't bring herself to speak. Instead she stood there, staring at Brigitte with her mouth partially open. She realized her whole body was shaking. Brigitte gently took her hand and led her to one of the maroon and gold arm chairs in the center of the room. They sat across from each other. 

"What's happened?" Brigitte asked with eyes full of concern. 

Thérèse took a deep breath and relayed everything that happened the night before. Towards the end, her voice got thick and Thérèse broke down into sobs. The past night's events finally caught up to her. It had shaken Thérèse to her core. She still couldn't accept the fact that she had seen a man die. Brigitte pulled her out of the chair and hugged her for a long time. She stroked her hair and whispered quiet comforts to her. When the sobs stopped, they sat down again. 

"We need to report this to your mother." Brigitte insisted. Thérèse shook her head and stifled more crying. She didn't know why, but she knew if the queen found out it would cause trouble for her. She took a few deep breaths and steadied herself. 

"I just want to put it out of my mind. I needed to tell someone and get it out. It wasn't anyone from Argence, so I think it will be okay if we just keep quiet. If I see them in town I'll tell my mother." Brigitte nodded apprehensively. They both jumped when a knock came from the other side of the door. Brigitte quickly crossed the room and pulled open the large, heavily decorated piece of wood. She immediately curtsied and bowed her head. Thérèse's stomach dropped. She stood slowly and met her mother's eyes. 

"Good morning, your Majesty." Brigitte said quietly as the queen entered the room. The queen paid her no mind. 

"Come with me Thérèse, we have much to do today. I have a meeting with my advisors and you need to be there." She tilted her chin slightly upwards and raised her eyebrows, waiting for a response. Thérèse gave Brigitte an apologetic look. 

"Yes, Mother." 

Thérèse followed the queen out of the room. She walked side-by-side with her mother. Their footsteps echoed off of the portrait-covered brown and gold walls. They walked in silence. Her mother had never been one for light conversation, at least not with her daughter. They mainly interacted when there were "important matters to discuss", as her mother often worded it. She was a stoic woman, whose personality fell somewhere between cold and icy. She always made sure Thérèse was well taken care of, but there weren't many personal, loving interactions between the pair. 

As they approached the door to her mother's advising chambers the guards outside opened the doors for them. Thérèse's mother gave her a hard nudge with her elbow, reminding her to stand up straight as they entered. The advising room was round and cavernous. It was built as a cylinder, with round walls and high ceilings. Maps of the surrounding kingdoms hung on the walls. The windowed ceiling provided just enough light that they could see, but not enough to completely cast the shadows out of the room. The floor was made of polished oak planks. There wasn't much in the way of furniture. A few couches against the walls, wooden chairs, and a round wooden table in the center was all the room had to offer. Thérèse always had an irksome feeling when she entered. It was like she walked in on something she was never meant to see. 

Around the large table in the center were twenty-five chairs. One for the queen, one for Thérèse, and twenty-three for the queen's various advisors. The table had been engraved intricately around its edge, with the queen's portion in gold. 

As Thérèse and her mother entered, the advisors' conversation went silent. They all bowed and curtsied, and returned to whatever they were doing. Thérèse saw Brigitte's father on the opposite side of the room. He appeared to be in deep conversation with one of Argence's citizen representatives. She also saw Claude. He was Argence's treasurer and her mother's chief financial advisor. Thérèse hated him. He had quite clearly expressed his interest in her on many occasions. He always propositioned her with promises of gold and riches, as if Argence's money wasn't technically her mother's anyway. He had black eyes, sullen cheeks, and a salt-and-pepper beard. He was well-built, but time was beginning to take its toll. Claude always carried a black cane with a carved gold bear's head on top. 

"Please, let us all sit." the queen said. She gestured towards the table. Everyone took their seats and waited for her to settle in. Thérèse stared loathsomely at the seat she would one day occupy. It felt more like an impending prison sentence than a rite of passage. 

"Now, as you all know, the delegation from Bayonne will be arriving next week." the queen began. "I want this to go flawlessly. We want to increase trade and positive relations with them. They have goods that we want, and we have soldiers they need. Their kingdom has a leader that is too kind, and he has let their military become weak." 

"Your Majesty, if I may." Blaise, the wartime advisor, stood. The queen gave a small nod of approval. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his short blonde hair. 

"The fact that Bayonne's king is weak-willed and would rather be kind than powerful is not our fault. Why should we send our highly-skilled soldiers for their benefit? Should they not instead be training their men as we do ours?" 

"You're right, Blaise." the queen replied. "Their lack of military prowess is not our fault. However, our lack of cloth, sugar, and other necessary goods is. We don't have enough merchants to regularly supply us, and they do." Blaise nodded and sat back down. 

"As for their arrival. Their king, Charles, their queen, Lucie, their son Henri, and various servants and advisors will get here in a few days. The kitchen staff has been notified of our plans for a feast. We will also be having a ball with our best musicians to make the family feel welcome and celebrated. We want to make a good impression. I want Bayonne on our side, so all you need to be on your best behavior." She looked directly at Claude. "All of you." Claude huffed and shifted in his seat. 

After about an hour of much less interesting discussion the meeting ended. The citizen's representative pulled Thérèse's mother aside for a private conversation concerning some unrest amongst the general population of Argence. This left Thérèse standing alone. As she turned to leave, Claude suddenly appeared at her side. At first she pretended not to notice him and tried to keep walking, but he blocked her path with his cane. 

"Young lady Thérèse, how are you this morning?" A disturbing smile crept across his face as he asked. Cracked lips parted to show straight but yellow teeth. 

"Fine, thank you." Thérèse once again tried to keep walking, but Claude stepped in front of her. 

"You know, it truly is a lovely day out. Would you like to accompany me for a talk outside?" 

Thérèse looked over her shoulder and saw her mother was watching, waiting for her next move. Thérèse swallowed hard and forced a smile. 

"Yes, that sounds nice. Thank you for asking." 

Claude offered her his arm, and Thérèse took it lightly. She tried to touch him as little as possible. She could see that his stringy black hair was greasy, and he smelled as though he hadn't bathed in a few days. They walked to an area behind the main part of the castle. There was a stone bench that looked out at a large field that was full of flowers and birds in the summer. In the winter, it was a white, barren desert. 

Thérèse and Claude sat side by side on the bench. 

"So, how have your studies been?" Claude asked. 

"Fine." Thérèse responded. She started to pull at small threads in her dress. 

"Are you keeping up with your reading?" 

"Yes." 

"Have you made any new friends recently?" 

"No." 

"Any new lovers?" 

Thérèse sat in silence. Conversations with Claude always came to these sorts of questions. Her silence annoyed him, and he repeated the question. Again, Thérèse refused to give him an answer. 

"Should I take your silence as a yes?" Claude asked. Thérèse turned to look him in his beady eyes. 

"I'm not sure that's any of your business, Claude." She spat his name like one would spit out dirty, bitter water. He chuckled softly. His mouth curved into a smirk. He lifted a hand to caress her cheek. She jerked away when she felt their skin touch. A flicker of anger crossed Claude's face. He moved closer to Thérèse and forcefully grabbed her face in one hand. She smelled his breath and was sure he had been drinking before the meeting. He held her by the cheeks and pulled her towards him. Leaning in close, he whispered to her. 

"Dear Thérèse, you'll stop fighting one day. You will be mine, one day." He looked into her eyes for a second, searching for any sort of reaction. Their noses touched. Then he forcefully released her face from his grip. He rose from the bench and started back towards the castle. Thérèse stayed seated. She stared into the vast whiteness of the field ahead of her. 

Once Claude was out of sight, she dropped her head into her hands. Thérèse cried once again. She had so much hatred for Claude she couldn't contain it. Her mother knew that he had been chasing her actively since she was thirteen. He scared her, disgusted her. Her mother didn't care. She told Thérèse to get used to it. She'd have to work with the advisors once her mother was gone, so she needed to learn to play nice with them. Thérèse never thought that "playing nice" would mean sacrificing her dignity and sense of safety in her own home. 

Thérèse spent the rest of the day alone. When she wasn't in the forest, she was in the castle's library. It was beneath the castle. She had to go down through the servant's quarters and take a narrow staircase into the basement of the castle. The staircase led directly into the library. It was often completely empty. Not many of Argence's royal residents were concerned with archives, records, or the thousands of books stored there. The library was a long rectangular room. It had high ceilings like the advising room, but instead of a skylight the ceiling was painted with dream-like scenes. Angels, clouds, and blue skies plastered the ceiling. It had been decorated long ago and was slowly fading. Thérèse doubted it would be redone anytime soon. The walls were bookshelves made of dark red wood, with several other free-standing shelves in two paralell lines down the middle of the room. There were a few simple lounges on the far end, and a fireplace near the entrance. Thérèse had tried to light it a few times before, but the wood was so old it crumbled rather than burned. 

As she entered the library, Thérèse took off her shoes and left them by the stairway. The black tile floor was cold under her feet. She padded softly across it, slowly walking a lap around the room. No matter how many times Thérèse came, she always found a new book. She was positive she could never read everything in the library, no matter how hard she tried. As she walked she gently dragged her fingers across the spines of the books on the walls. Each of them had so much to offer. The very souls of the authors were contained in the castle's library. Eventually Thérèse chose one. It had a purple canvas cover with the title hand-written in black ink; Candide. 

She walked to the back of the room and took a seat on a lounge. She opened the book and began to read, eventually losing track of time. Once she decided she'd had enough for the night, she folded down part of the page she had left off on, closed the book, and left it sitting on the lounge. Thérèse was positive she was the only person who came down here, so it wouldn't matter if the book was out of place. She walked back to the stairs and put her shoes on. She ascended the staircase and made her way through the servants' quarters. On the way she spotted Olivier asleep in his bunk. She wanted to wake him and keep his company for a bit, but decided against it. She'd caused him enough stress with her late-night escapades. 

As she got back into the main part of the castle, Thérèse spotted Claude again. His hair looked like it had been washed, and he had changed into nicer clothes for dinner. She started walking faster, hoping to make it to her room before he noticed her. She failed. 

"Ah, Thérèse!" Claude said loudly. He turned partially away from the group of lords and ladies he'd been talking with to face her. He put one hand on his hip and leaned the other on his cane. Thérèse smiled politely and gave a small curtsy. 

"Good evening." she said. 

"Why don't you join us for dinner?" Claude asked. He took half a step forward and offered her his hand. 

"Thank you, but not this time. I have other things that must be done tonight." 

"Surely you can spare an hour for us?" Claude motioned toward the group he was with. Thérèse didn't recognize any of them. They were dressed gaudily in bright colors and the women had so much makeup it was nearly impossible to make out their features. 

"No, I really can't. My apologies." 

"I insist." Claude demanded. He took another step forward and grabbed Thérèse by the wrist, attempting to pull her into the circle. She tried to pull her arm back but Claude had a tight hold on her. Thérèse couldn't help herself. She pulled back her free hand and slapped Claude across the face with all her strength. Stunned, he released her and staggered backwards. His group all gasped and stared wide-eyed at Thérèse. Thérèse wasted no time in lifting her skirt and running towards her room. She could hear Claude yelling at her the whole time that her mother would surely hear about this. 

She got to her room and collapsed onto her bed. She was so sick of this life. Sick of her pointless duties, sick of her mother, and sick of Claude. She had had more than enough, but now she had to deal with the family from Bayonne coming to Argence. She knew it was going to take all of her energy and willpower to survive the next couple weeks' events. She turned her face towards her window and stared into the inky winter blackness. She could see a few stars starting to come out. Her favorite one was always in the center of her window. At one point she had taken charcoal and drew a circle on the window to mark its position. She had been told its name at one point, but never remembered it. Thérèse liked it more that way. It wasn't an object with a name that could be written or spoken. It was just…hers.