The banquet hall portrayed the fun and laughter of the guests nicely considering all the noise that filled the air.
Isabelle’s parents were boisterous and overly heated from the ale consumed during the past hours of indulgence. It was not a pretty picture for Isabelle to watch.
To top it all off her younger cousin, by two years, had plagued her with questions all afternoon. Her latest being about her early morning rides along the royal cantor trail, which circled the grounds where the castle set.
She observed the good and the bad in clothing that the guests chose to adorn themselves with. The Lady Corinth seated to her right wore a ghastly collar and the Duke of Trove, seated directly across from her bore a multi-colored vest beneath a hideous overcoat. His straggly beard was none too clean, which caused her to completely lose her sparse appetite.
The kitchen had brought five different meats to each table. Wild quall was her favorite and there was trout from the bubbling spring the King’s fishermen had pulled out of the water. Hunts men brought squirrel and rabbit to the table and the turtle soup was a delicacy. The vegetables were raw and roasted as were the apples.
Isabelle was tired of smiling; all she wanted to do was to go to her room, but there was no hope of that, for at least another hour or two. The banquets were always so long; she dreaded every minute she had to stay, “You are a princess after all,” her mother always said.
Isabelle became very quiet as she dropped her napkin on her plate signifying the end of her meal. Queen Jasmine looked at her daughter and wondered if she was feeling alright. She spoke to her husband and then got up from her set and started toward Isabelle.
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