The nagging tutor didn't seem too pleased by her improvement.
"You would have done better," she spat.
With a frown, Marlowe immediately questioned, "How better, Miss O'livre?" she ended up quite astounded by her sudden bravery.
It seems the tutor annoyance had irked her to bits.
Stunned, Miss O'livre turned to her with a left brow raised upward, she looked like she wanted to retort but at the same time she was held back by something.
Perhaps her tittle?
"Your performance was normal, Your Majesty," her tone didn't sound the least respectful, especially her last two words.
It made Marlowe scrunch her brows, thinking if there was any special way to use the dining equipment.
"How so?" she demanded an explanation in the most polite way ever.
Since she had already begun, why not go along with it?
"A Queen is supposed to be exceptional, not average," she spitefully declared. "but judging from your background, I can give you time to attain that height, Your Majesty," miss O'livre responded sharply.
Deflected, Marlowe had nothing to rebuff her.
"You should practice that a little more on your own, afterall, I heard you'll be officially meeting the Royal family in the next five days."
Hearing her reminder, Marlowe stiffened, but there's nothing she can do about it.
Perhaps she should listen to the tutor's words and practice more, she was not perfect…yet.
"Now, with that handled, we should slide on to the next course," the nagging tutor seemed to skim her scornfully with her eyes as she uttered, "Diplomacy,"
"I supposed it's something you lack, but we can get that fixed. Right, Your Majesty?"
Her harsh words made Marlowe grimace but she quietly nodded her head in response.
Right now, it seemed the woman had the upper hand and power here.
Afterall, she's the tutor. This class is her territory.
But she was exceptionally rude.
In agony and misery, Marlowe spent two full hours with the tutor's nonsensical talks and loathing gazes.
But once she declared the class over, she couldn't help but run away hastily, without even waiting for her bows which she didn't always mean.
Marlowe hurried to find Merkin, and on the way, she bumped into a familiar figure she met in an unfortunate situation that morning.
"Greetings, Your Majesty," surprisingly, he greeted her first as he stood in her way.
The coldness that once swirled around his being, totally disappeared, though the way traces of it left but it wasn't as evident as it was before.
"M—my Lord, greetings," in contrast to him, Marlowe bowed to him in greetings. She didn't know if it was supposed to be so, but the intimidation he exhumed made her impulsively act.
"Sorry for my rude behavior earlier this morning, I was in a hurry for some important matters. Can we put that all behind while we take a walk in the court yard, Your Majesty?"
Now she was getting scared. This man didn't look like someone who would propose a walk with a stranger who he'd had just met by saving her, heck, he didn't even look friendly.
With her eyes still staring at his face, Marlowe thought, 'he can't be the way he looks, right? Looks can be deceiving and she'd experienced that first hand.' Lothan had tricked her with his with looks also…no his looks hadn't deceived her, it was screaming everything about him. She was just the fool that chose to ignore it.
Why was she even thinking about the traitor at this point?
'If the man was bad, Merkin or Berkel would have warned me about him,' Marlowe pondered apprehensively.
"Okay," she uttered, not sure.
She caught a faint smile on his lips before he gestured with his hand, "This way, My Queen,"
As she stepped in line, she blinked as it dawned on her what he had called her…'my queen?' she thought with a slight crease on her forehead.
Marlowe let him lead her out of the Castle, with her heart not in place—she didn't know where it was, but she knew it was not where it was supposed to be.
Because everywhere in her body pumped blood now.
It wasn't exactly the first time she saw the outside of the Castle, but after she had gotten in as the King's bride—unwillingly, she had never stepped foot outside again.
She didn't know if it was a boundary to her, but she had not tried going outside.
Her answer came immediately without her having to search.
"Lord Deveraux, the Queen—" two guards immediately marched up to them with emergency in their heavy strides.
"She's with me," his icy tone immediately chased the guards away—reluctantly.
And there, Marlowe got to know it was indeed luxury for her to go outside to the court yard; except for the garden which had a route from the Castle's insides.
"May I know your name, Your Majesty?" he suddenly asked her after they had attained a great distance from the Castle's main building.
"Huh?" it appeared Marlowe had spaced out once more since she had not heard his request.
"Your name, My Queen," he repeated calmly, taking no offense at all—even though she feared he would.
"I'm Marlowe Hebron Alnov, My Lord," she responded timidly.
"Marlowe…Hebron?" squinting his eyes he looked over at her at his side.
"Yeah," she nodded with a pursed lip, thinking perhaps…
"The daughter of the fisherman?" he probed.
Her eyes brightened as she nodded more eagerly, surprised that he knew her father.
"That's unexpected, I heard his daughter was already married. Was that false?"
"Oh, no, My Lord, that's my elder sister, Nadine," she said hurriedly to clear his doubt.
"I see…" he nodded in understanding, and Marlowe watched him with her lower lip caught between her teeth.
"So you're the unfortunate soul who married my cousin," he said, suddenly making her nervous.
Seeing the change in her expression, he chuckled, "Don't fret, he won't eat you, you won't even get to see him, that's what I meant," he explained.
Marlowe exhaled deeply, struggling to not make it obvious.
"I mean how unlucky is a wife who doesn't get to see her husband?" his deep voice restated.
Marlowe didn't respond, but she could detect something more in words.
Maybe she was imagining it.
A sigh resonated, coming from him as he said, "Sorry to scare you. My mother told me about you,"
Marlowe grew stiff, judging from the first and last encounter she had with his mother, she knew it won't be something good.
"you are indeed pretty and easygoing as she said, remarkable indeed," he said with a smile.
"In case you need company, any at all, come find me, it'll be my pleasure to serve the Queen," He told her with a glint in his eyes, before turning away and heading back into the Castle.
Marlowe just stood on the spot, why did she feel as if there was something more he was pointing at…something else he meant?