Over the next week, she refused to tell her maids or close confidants what caused her to cry on the floor in such agony. She appeared perfectly normal again, confidant and brave, as though the vulnerable woman on her bedroom floor was never her.
But she couldn't escape from reality by pretending.
Word had spread around the palace and all any one could talk about seemed to be this scandal. A King having a concubine was not out of the ordinary but after the late King Henry's reign filled with debauchery and wasteful expenses that nearly bankrupted the kingdom, the nobility and ministers were reluctant to let a concubine into the palace. They fear that it might be the beginning of a reign similar to King Henry's reign.
Several members of the cabinet had already approached Queen Sierra about this matter, as they always do regarding any issue. She could do nothing but conceal her true feelings and sit there with a smile, listening to them talking about her husband's mistress.
" Your Majesty, the meeting is about to start."
As Sierra gazed at the mirror in front of her, she could not help but reminisce that night. Francis was inches away from her, his breath grazing the skin on her neck. He looked at her with such admiration in her eyes, something she dared not expect from her husband.
The hair he so lovingly undid and brushed, was woven back to its usual updo, reflecting her status as a married woman in Asteria. A simple diamond tiara sat in the middle of the teased hair sections matched the gems and golden embroidery on her artic blue gown.
Stop thinking about Francis
Every day since he left, all she could think about was him. When she was working, sleeping, eating, or any other activity, he would pop up in her mind.
I cannot be falling for him again! I'm married! You are married, Sierra!
Sierra stands up and begins walking in the direction of the cabinet meeting hall. She walks by many servants who all bow to her and greet her. As she turned a corner, she noticed two maids talking in hushed tones near the balcony overlooking the central garden gazebo.
" So that is the rumored mistress, Paula Reed?"
" Hey, is that not a dress from Queen Sierra's wardrobe last season? She must be incredibly shameless to wear clothes belonging to the legal wife!"
Paula Reed
Even hearing her name was enough to nauseate Sierra.
" You-your Majesty!" The maid noticed Sierra standing behind them from the corner of her eye and immediately knelt down.
Sierra looked at her and then at the other maid who also fell to her knees. A carefree gaze, as if nothing was wrong. As if she did not hear anything they said.
" Get up." With those two simple words, Sierra left the corridors and entered the cabinet meeting hall.
The heavy double doors of the cabinet meeting hall swung open with a soft creak, indicating the entrance of Sierra. With every step she took, she radiated grace, it was as though she was made for the role of Queen. The hem of her gown trailed behind her like a river of silk. All eyes were on her. The haughty nobles all greeted her respectfully.
" Greetings to the Moon of Asteria!"
Sierra acknowledged their greetings with a serene smile and made her way to sit in her designated seat.
King Edward was already present clad in his uniform, rows of military medals on his right chest. His curly hair was somewhat tamed by gel but there were still a few wild strands. King Edward remained silent, his gaze fixed upon the documents spread before him on the table
" Good morning, Your Majesty." Sierra greeted King Edward as she sat herself on the chair next to his.
Edward, who did not spare her a glance until then, finally turned to her, his expression icy and distant. "The color of your dress doesn't suit you," he remarked coolly, his words cutting through the air like a blade.
Sierra's brow furrowed in confusion, taken aback by his sudden critique. Nevertheless, she maintained her composure, a faint smile formed on her face. "And what, may I ask, is so wrong with the color?" she inquired politely, her tone laced with curiosity.
Edward's gaze fixed on hers, his eyes devoid of warmth. "You know that I hate this color," he replied, his voice clipped and cold. "Yet you insist on wearing clothes in this shade."
Sierra's heart sunk a bit but it never showed in her expression.
"I understand, Your Majesty," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with resignation. "But the stylists believe that this is my color."
Edward's lip curled in disdain. "I don't care what the stylist says," he retorted, his tone dismissive. "I don't like it, so you should change it. After all, isn't that your duty as my wife?"
Sierra's heart clenched at his words, the sting of his rebuke cutting deeper than any blade. But she forced a smile upon her lips, masking the turmoil within. "As you wish, Your Majesty," she replied with forced deference, her voice betraying none of the pain she felt inside.