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"Fortune's blessings upon thee. I thank you for granting me audience at such an abrupt occasion, your highness."
Miriel removed her veil, and bowed her head.
She was escorted to the princess's room. Two maids stood to her right; one with grey hair, the other black.
"This is why you sent the letter, is it not? I would welcome you with or without."
The princess was seated on the side of a lofty bed with a parchment in her hand. There were document stacks piled on the desk beside her bed. Her eyes were focused on the parchment, reading glasses resting on the bridge of her nose.
The princess turned and their eyes met.
Miriel gasped.
Light illuminated the princess's smooth platinum-blonde hair, falling behind her and resting on the bed. Her amber irises glistened. Her white nightgown, coupled with her fair skin, was blinding. The rosy sheets of her bed dyed the room in a faint pink hue, a few shades deeper than her peachy lips.
"It was fortuitous. A letter from the obscure daughter of Baron Lerkester? My interest was piqued. Add to that, a most peculiar proposition within. Was that not quite the proclamation, when our encounters are six springs apart?" She lifted her glasses and placed them on the desk beside the parchment.
Miriel saw the maids shifting.
"How shattered I was when sweet Miriel would not accede to a friendly meeting when I was so expectant. Oh, how forlorn was I when she returned to her fief. 'Twas as if I had lost my heart." She rested her hands on her chest.
The maids were swooning over their master. Tears clouded their eyes.
Miriel's mouth twitched.
The princess cut quite the sorrowful picture, with her shoulders slumped and her bright amber eyes pleading as she met Miriel's gaze.
Miriel almost felt guilty. Almost.
"Nonetheless, I shall be magnanimous and let all be bygones now I have met thee. Speak, I shall entertain thy wish."
"I am humbled, your highness. If I may."
Miriel bowed briefly and brought her envelope out.
She handed it to the back haired maid, who brought it to the princess, while the other handed her a paper knife.
"Allow me to confide with Lady Lerkester." said the princess.
"We shall abide." They bowed and left the room.
"What was sweet Miriel implying with her pledge in her letter? Is it tangled to this envelope?"
She opened the envelope with the knife and straightened the parchment within. It was a few shades brighter than the parchment on her desk.
Miriel went near the princess and knelt on one knee.
"I meant it in no uncertain terms, your highness."
"A betrothal certificate?"
Miriel met the princess' eyes and nodded.
There were official and unwritten nuances plaguing aristocratic succession, and marriage.
In Miriel's circumstance, for a daughter to inherit her family's titleage, her family must be a Count or higher titleage. Or a viscount, following certain conditions.
A baronet's daughter could inherit her family's titleage, and their fief, only if she was married or was betrothed to another aristocrat.
"Miriel Lerkester and Mark. Merely Mark?"
She nodded again. The princess's gaze was locked to her.
"You are not unaware of the marriage laws concerning aristocrats, I presume. Who is this Mark?" The princess asked.
"He is a soldier from Lerkester, your highness." She replied. "The son of a farmhand. He left for the barricade when his father passed and has been there since."
"This is disconcerting. Rise and sit, it is difficult to converse."
She sat on the bed, while the princess glanced at the certificate.
"Does the commoner make the cut then? How does he fare?" The princess asked.
"He needs but return, your highness. He has served for five cycles."
Though unwritten, royalty objected to marriage between aristocrats and commoners. Any aristocrats intent on surmounting the divide, undertook sinuous tasks to have them accepted as nobility. Avenues inaccessible to Miriel, it was both stringent and lax upon feudal lords.
The exceptions were merited knights and soldiers who had served in the frontlines for two or more years.
"When is this Mark to return, Miriel? It would be expedient were it sooner than later."
The princess kept the certificate on the bed and turned to Miriel.
"We lost contact with our intermediary three years past, your highness."
Mark himself had never sent a letter. She forgot if he was even literate.
She tasked someone at the barricade to send word of him.
"It is unlikely the king would accede with such uncertainty. I admit I do favour this situation. Not that I am trivializing your plight, dear Miriel. I am merely ecstatic it has woven us together. I am quite fond of sweet Miriel." The princess bemoaned as a beatific smile spread her lips.
'And I wish it had not.' Miriel felt her brows creasing, but straightened her face deftly.
"So you are none the wiser then, to whether he breathes?" The princess asked. "Though I do sympathize with your circumstance, must your partner be this Mark? I would find you a better partner if you so wished."
'Must it be Mark? Would she find a better match?' She had thought about it a lot.
Her titleage limited her options down to a few people. If ever they found one, she had to think about the possibilities.
"Yes, your highness. It must be Mark."
As long as she obtained the princess's edict, she had time until they ascertained whether he was alive or dead and decide then. To that end, her guardian would care for the estate, which, under her Father's will, was her Uncle.
The princess sighed.
"If it must be so, then may it be so. Allow me to find a liaison to connect the sundered pair. Under whose command does he fall at the barricade?"
Miriel twiddled her fingers, staring at anything but the Princess.
"That... I am uncertain, your highness. The letters, never mentioned." Miriel barely dared raise her head.
The princess stared at her with deadpan eyes and her mouth parted.
"What of his tasks? Is he a soldier? Perchance, does he possess particular qualities they require at the barricade?"
Her head drooped lower with every word.
"I am…unaware, your highness."
"Am I to understand, that you are to be betrothed with this Mark, who is seemingly at the barricade, whom you omitted to inquire about, whose state of living, death or return is uncertain?"
Miriel blushed.
Then she felt a thumb and finger tug her cheek.
She blushed even more.
"Y-your highness..." She tried to pull the hand away but failed.
Finally, the princess released her clutch.
Miriel placed her palm to her cheek and glared at the princess.
"That was mean, your highness."
"Consider it interest for turtling home too long, and for your negligence." The princess smiled.
Miriel shivered.
"Are you certain of your offered pledge, Lady Miriel?"
Miriel paused, then nodded.
"I am, your highness."
She would stand by what she wrote in her letter, so long as her terms were met.
"I must inform you I have no such outlandish quirk of collecting souls, nor have I need of a servant. Though if that disappoints you, I suppose I could start a new hobby." The princess had her chin on her palm, head tilted downward.
Miriel almost shook her head, but resisted.
The princess turned to Miriel and smiled.
"A confidant would do. I am, indeed, unsuited to merely frolic in my lonesome. A soulmate in joy would be lovely. Not that I would separate you from your betrothed. No, I shall keep you to myself until he returns. If ever he does, that is." She giggled with her mouth covered by a palm.
"Oh, and your eternal favour, of course."
"You have my eternal gratitude, your Highness." Miriel bowed.
She continued, "I must return home first, your highness. If only to inform them of my commitment."
"Yes, yes, I am aware you relish separating from me. But do rest here today, your makeup can barely hide your countenance."
"But your Highness..."
"I shall send a runner, paired with a knight. That would assuage your worries, would it not? You are far too weary, lovely Miriel, to free among the living."
That would indeed assure her, she acknowledged. The knight would be both testament and deterrent.
She felt her shoulders ease at the thought. But now unanchored, it would be hard on her to be stubborn.
"I shall impose you then, your Highness."
"If only you would, it would please me greatly. Vien and Niact will be by the door, they will show you to your room. If you so will it, you may stay even tomorrow, or the day after, or forever."
Miriel resolved to leave the next day and not a moment after.
She stood and bowed to the princess.
"May fortune ever be with thee, your highness."
"May the sun illuminate your path, Lady Miriel."
She turned and made for the door.
"Oh, Miriel, if you would."
She stopped and turned.
The princess nested on the bed, hands clutching her pillow and her face resting on it.
"If you ever change your mind, worry not. I shall prepare a most excellent string of suitors for your picking. Perchance, you might even find your fortune's pair whilst you stay in the Capitol. Whichever you prefer."
"I shall keep that in mind, your highness."
She turned and left the room.