"So?" The dressmaker peered from behind Thérèse's shoulder. "What do you think?"
"It's beautiful. I've never seen anything like it." Thérèse was in awe. Thérèse stood in front of a floor-length mirror in the dressmaker's workshop. The woman had done a stunningly beautiful job, made even more impressive by the short amount of time she'd been given.
The dress was glamorous. It fit her body perfectly. The bodice was gold, with shimmering blue and rose gold details layered on to it. They flowed down towards her waist, making it appear as though hundreds of small diamonds were running down her collarbone and midsection. The skirt was the same gold color as the bodice, and flowed elegantly. When Thérèse walked, it looked like she was floating. The bottom of the dress was ringed with an ocean blue tulle, to match the details on the top. The ruffles of the skirt fell beautifully, looking like waves in the sea. The train of the dress stretched out three feet behind her. Thérèse couldn't stop staring at herself in the mirror. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this beautiful, this heavenly.
"Oh, I almost forgot." The dressmaker pulled something out of a nearby wardrobe. It was a cape that matched Thérèse's dress.
"It is the middle of winter, so I wanted to make you something to help keep you warm." The woman draped it over Thérèse's shoulders and fastened it at her neck. Three golden chains fastened together above the sweetheart neckline of the dress, twinkling in the light. They were cold against Thérèse's skin. The cape had pointed shoulders, somewhat resembling a knight's armor, and the insides were lined with fur. The shoulders also had more blue and blush details, matching her dress. From the shoulders flowed glittering gold fabric, reaching the floor behind Thérèse. It matched the dress perfectly, and Thérèse could tell this would be more than sufficient to keep her warm during and after the wedding.
"I…I don't even know where to begin." Thérèse turned to the dressmaker, beaming. "It's truly wonderful." The dressmaker smiled and took one of Thérèse's hands in both of hers. She ran her thumbs over the top of Thérèse's hand.
"I'm glad you like it." she said. "I know this certainly won't be your dream wedding, but I hope the dress helps a bit. But for now, let's get you back into your clothes. I'll have a servant bring the dress to your room for tonight." The dressmaker patted Thérèse's hand and gently released it.
After Thérèse had changed, she took a walk throughout the castle. Paul only had one guard watching her now, instead of two. She also didn't have to be escorted around anymore. Was Paul trusting her more? Trying to give her more freedom? Did he think that would make her like him? Whatever it was, Thérèse was glad to have less eyes watching her and more power to do what she wanted.
As she strolled through Bayonne's palace, Thérèse appreciated the beauty of it. She could tell that Charles and Lucie took great pride in their home, and when it wasn't being run by barbarians it was probably quite lovely. At the moment, it was fairly messy. Mud, dirt, and debris from outside had been tracked inside and was plastered on the floors. Human waste could be found in some corners, and Thérèse counted at least five men and women who had fallen asleep in a drunken stupor, dropping wherever their bodies decided it was time to rest. Maybe once she was married to Paul she could talk to him about cleaning the palace up. Thérèse shook her head.
You're not actually marrying him! She thought. They'll come for you. Henri wouldn't leave you here, and Bernard surely would not abandon you. As much as she wanted to believe in them, Thérèse still felt the all-too-familiar pangs of anxiety blossoming in her stomach.
As Thérèse strolled around the castle, she noticed more and more people filling the halls. Throngs of visitors smiled and nodded to her as she walked by. She realized they were probably here for the wedding. Paul must be well-respected if they all came that quickly. The reality of what was to come began to set in. Thérèse's stomach turned. What if Henri failed? What if something went wrong, and she really did end up marrying Paul? As Queen, she'd be able to come and go as she pleased and spend her days doing whatever her heart desired, but Paul would still have the final say in any important decisions. She was also in love with Henri. If she and Paul were married, that would become dangerous. She could keep seeing Henri of course, but if Paul found out, Henri would likely be executed. Thérèse had heard many stories of unfaithful marriages. They very rarely included a happy ending.
Thérèse saw a quick movement out of the corner of her eye, snapping her out of her thoughts and back into the real world. A man stumbled towards her, and the guard's hand went to the sword at his hip. The man grabbed Thérèse by the shoulders and slurred out something that sounded similar to "Congratulations!" Thérèse chuckled awkwardly and tried to push the man away, but his grip only tightened. Thérèse winced as his dirty, uncut nails dug deeper into her upper arms.
"Alright, get off of her!" The guard yelled. The man ignored him. He leaned closer to Thérèse, and she could just barely make out his inebriated language.
"A bitch like you should watch her back here. The last Queen of Bayonne didn't last long." The man punctuated the sentence with a belch in Thérèse's face. It reeked so strongly of whiskey that Thérèse gagged. The guard strode forward and punched the man in the face. It momentarily disoriented him, and the guard ushered Thérèse down the hall and around the corner. Once they were in a quieter area, the guard asked Thérèse if she was alright, and what the man had said to her.
"Yes, I'm fine, just disgusted. He said-" Thérèse paused for a moment. "I-I couldn't really make out what he said, honestly. He'd clearly had too much and was just spewing slurred ramblings into my ear." The guard gave her a suspicious look, but seemed satisfied with the response.
"Very well. I have to switch duties with another guard. You'll be unescorted for the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon. If you need anything, we'll be patrolling the area. Paul has placed your protection as our highest priority." The guard bowed and strode off to attend to the other tasks of his job. Thérèse stood in the small side hallway, not sure of what to do with herself. She decided to continue exploring, especially now that she didn't have a chaperone watching and reporting on her every move. Thérèse decided she wanted to find Paul's bedroom. She figured a man with an ego like his would want to be high up, away from the servants in the basement. Thérèse circled back down the hallway and ascended the stairs.
She reached the top floor. It was completely silent. Paul was most likely attending to wedding plans and ordering people around. Thérèse wasn't sure who else would even live up here. Her current room was on the floor below, with other members of the court. Confident that she was alone, Thérèse began to peek in the various doors. One led to a large meeting room. A wooden desk with a freshly upholstered chair sat in the middle.
Thérèse closed the door and tried another. She found herself in a large dining room. It was dusty, and looked like it hadn't been used in ages. Thérèse tried door after door, working her way through the top floor. Finally, the last door she tried gave way to an elaborate bedroom.
This is it. Thérèse thought. She didn't know why she had wanted to find Paul's room, but she felt a rush of excitement when she did. She looked over her shoulder to ensure no one had seen her, and pulled the door closed as she slipped inside.
Thérèse stood just past the threshold of Paul's room. Well, what was now Paul's room. Thérèse assumed this had been Charles and Lucie's bedroom before Paul moved in. Based on the decor, Thérèse was confident Lucie had designed it. The walls were all painted jet black, and a large bed was placed in the center of the far wall. Three long mirrors were mounted above the bed, stretching from just below the ceiling down to about six inches above the bed. A mammoth chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. Its countless rows of twinkling black obsidian made it a mesmerizing piece of art. The bed had chestnut brown sheets and blankets. The topmost blanket was composed of thick, dark fur, most likely a bear's. It rustled softly in the gentle breeze that whispered through the room. The whole thing sat atop a black woven rug. The windows on the left wall let in some natural light, which fell lazily across half of the room. A few candles sat around the room, likely to illuminate it for nighttime use. They looked like they'd been used recently, further cementing Thérèse's assumption that this was in fact Paul's room.
Thérèse spotted a desk pushed into the far corner of the room. She began to shuffle through the documents that covered the surface. Lots of letters, mostly to people Thérèse assumed were friends or family. A few spare wedding invites, a list of things needed from the market. Thérèse pulled open a drawer to reveal a stack of letters tied with a blue ribbon. She picked them up carefully, so as to not disturb anything else. She began to leaf through the stack. Ice ran through her veins when she saw Claude's signature at the bottom of a letter. She quickly realized these contained the plans to kidnap Henri's family and kill her mother. The plans to steal from Bayonne, commit numerous acts of treason, and overthrow the royal families of both kingdoms. Thérèse felt an explosion of anger ignite inside of her. She gripped the stack of papers tightly with her eight fingers. Her entire life was destroyed, and he had the plans tied up with a ribbon, like some trophy. Thérèse quickly lit a candle. She burned the letters one by one, until all of them were nothing but a pile of ash. She revelled in watching each of them go up in flames. The black and orange spreading across the parchment, eating away at every fiber. Thérèse didn't bother to clean up. She left the candle burning, oozing wax onto the expensive floors. The ash formed a rather large pile, and Thérèse used her heel to grind it into the rug. She ran the palm of her hand through the mound and dragged thick, black streaks across the brown blankets. As Thérèse was about to leave, she heard a strange knocking in the room. She couldn't locate where it was coming from. She checked the windows, and in the master bathroom that was attached to the bedroom. She put an ear to the floor. Nothing. The knocking continued. It seemed as though it was coming from inside the walls.
It's probably just a rat or some other rodent trapped in there. When Thérèse was done, she left Paul's door open and went back to her own room to await the ceremony. It wasn't a careless action. Thérèse wanted Paul to know she'd been there.