Elysse's Story -- Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I could think of only one thing: escape. Sitting on my balcony, arms clutched around my knees, I smiled to myself, imagining in great detail a flight from the lavish court in Ancréte. I looked out over the castle’s garden that stretched into the demesne land dedicated to our family’s private vineyard. The horizon shimmered purple, and I knew that it must have been a wet night; the dew-covered grapes were devastatingly beautiful in the early morning light.

I sighed and lay my forehead against my knees. I wondered if, miles away, he was thinking of me as well. The smile spread across my face once more, before I was surprised by the door behind me opening. I lifted my head slightly and waited for an announcement. An elf’s childish voice floated out into the silence and delivered my summons to the Morning Room. I assured her that I would be downstairs shortly.

After a moment or two, I stood and straightened my chemise. I stretched my legs and straightened my arms above my head, playing with my braid as they returned to my sides. I went into my bedroom, pulled out the first daydress in my armoire, and went to find my parents, the Marquis and Marquise d’Ancréte, in the Morning Room, where they breakfasted every day. My brother, sister, and I were invited to dine with them in their special room on occasion, when they had no other pressing politics of which to talk in private.

As I walked through the doors which were opened for me by the elves posted at the entry, I immediately saw that this was not such a morning. Neither Lucien nor Amarante were stationed at their normal positions at the long table, but my parents sat at either end as always. They looked up at me as I joined them, neither of them touching their food as I curtsied before I sat in my chair.

“Elysse,” began my father with a pained look on his face. He took a deep breath and glanced quickly at my mother before looking back at me. I sat a bit straighter and folded my hands in my lap, suddenly conscious of my poor posture and bit my bottom lip lightly. He resumed. “Daughter, a letter arrived by messenger this morning. It is addressed to you,” he paused and I raised my eyebrows, for I saw nothing peculiar in that. “From the Duke of Surwood, Elysse.”

My breathing became shallow and fast, and I had to press my palm into my belly to calm my quivering stomach. I fought the urge to smile like a fool; I knew how my mother would react. Though Dontae, the Duke of Surwood had been courting me for over six months now, she would see it as highly improper if I were to express my attachment so explicitly. I took a deep, calming breath through my nose, lifting my eyebrows only slightly as if in question toward my father.

“He is to arrive in Ancréte within the course of the morning, and I have no doubt that he wishes to visit you.” My eyebrows fell as I wondered how certain of that he could be. “Rest assured, Elysse, I have not read your letter. I only mean to say that today I must put conditions on his visit.”

I opened my mouth to object, but closed it again almost immediately thereafter. My father had never once during my relationship with Dontae imposed any stipulations on our meetings, and he had never had reason to do so. Our meetings had been innocent enough, although I did have to admit to hand-holding once in a while. Although I disapproved of my father’s sudden and unexpected statement, I did not want to anger him and worsen the situation by opposing him.

“Elysse, dear, understand that he is not to come into the castle. You are more than welcome to take a walk with him through the gardens, but I would prefer that he remain outside today.” My face must have given away my thoughts, because he quickly added, “All of the preparations for the party, you know. I would hate for him to see us in such a state.” I nodded slowly.

In a few days, the Château d’Ancréte would be filled with the kingdom’s most influential families to celebrate my family’s three hundredth anniversary as being the city-state’s ruling family. No other family currently in power elsewhere in the realm had ruled their respective city-states for as long as we, and it was to be the largest party that anyone had ever known. Despite the impending date, however, preparations had barely begun. Once the fairies were unleashed on the castle, the glamouring would not take more than a single day.

After a long silence, my mother cleared her throat. She only ever did so when she was preparing to say something that she felt required just a bit more concentration from her audience than normal. I shifted my gaze to her from my father and waited for her to begin.

“You must know, daughter, that your father and I expect an offer today.” I took a deep breath and she watched me steadily for a moment. “The party is not until Saturday,” she explained, “and he has no other reason to arrive in town three days early. We feel that some especial privacy may give him the proper encouragement to make the final declaration.” I began to feel my cheeks redden and I prayed that she would soon end this speech. To my unending gratitude, she did.

“You have met on more than five occasions,” continued my father, “more than enough time for a nobleman to choose a wife, and it is time he made the commitment. Be sweet and encouraging --”

“Be charming and graceful,” my mother cut in. “Convince him without words that he should want to take you back with him to Surwood.”

At this, they had nothing more to say to me, and I sat surprisingly still until my father rose from his chair and handed me the still-sealed letter from Dontae. I saw that his familiar emerald green sealing wax had been unbroken and remained pressed firmly against both sides of the paper it protected. I took it tenderly from my father, holding it against my chest as if to keep it safe from him, should he change his mind and decide to open it himself after all.

He nodded to me and I stood, curtsied again to him and then my mother, and left the room. I practically skipped up the grand staircase and into my room, bounding onto the chaise against the north wall. Though I had felt unpredictably awkward having the conversation with my parents, now that I was left to myself to think through that with which they had presented me, I found myslf ecstatic. I could hardly contain myself as my shaking hands fumbled with the seal and tore part of the page in my haste. I did not worry, however, and continued on to the letter as soon as I could make out Dontae’s extravagant script.

My Dearest Elysse,
         I am close now to Ancréte. I apologise for having waited until I was in such close proximity before warning you of my arrival, and yet there is still a part of me that wishes I could surprise you. You cannot imagine how I regret the necessity of my having to travel by land to your ever-prosperous polis. I could have been there so much sooner had I access to my ports. How I wish I were there even now, with you, you cannot know.
         I write this from an inn a little over ten miles from the city gates and already I find myself under the spell of the rolling purple hills that never cease to amaze me. Ancréte holds an even stronger hold on my heart, with its enchanting castle and lively harbour. The fact that it is also where I find you is never far from my mind.
         I shall see you this afternoon, my sweet, which cannot come soon enough for me. Until then, know that my thoughts linger on nothing but the beautiful city-state of Ancréte and its most charming inhabitant.
                   Yours always,
                   Dontae

My face glowed and I held the paper to my face, kissing it over and over along the beautiful lines of ink. Knowing that his hand had brushed across this same paper so recently invigorated me and made me anxious to see him. I desperately wished that it were possible to send a reply, but he would no doubt be on the road by this time, and a messenger would not be able to stop him en route.

I sat for a while, content only to hold the now wrinkled paper to my bosom, caressing it every so often with my fingertips and inhaling the heavy scent of wood and dirt that it carried, knowing that he had carried that particular piece of paper with him from Surwood just for the use of writing me.

When I could no longer justify my unproductiveness, I stored the letter in a wooden box where I kept all the rest from Dontae and rang the bell for my nurse, Sylvie. She must have been close, for she had entered my room from the concealed slaves’ door in only a moment. She greeted me pleasantly and asked me how I should like to look today. I told her of Dontae’s visit and she helped me pick out the perfect outfit, undressing and refitting me into my proper attire for public appearances.

I had no difficulty discussing such embarassing topics as engagements and proposals with my nurse, whom I called Bonnemére when we were alone, as she was as close to me as my own mother. I quite preferred her on days when the Marquise was feeling particularly strict about social etiquette. She could be strict in her own way, but was infinitely better at listening to my side of things before she began yelling.

I was dressed in a pretty gown with pastel green stripes and matching brocaded shoes. When she had successfully gotten me into the unyielding yards of fabric, she ran off to fetch my hairdresser, Théodore. Théo was one of the most unassuming and dedicated fairies that I had ever met in my short life, though I had known quite a few. His good temperament had made him the perfect mackerel, for I was adventurous in my style and he was unabashed about redefining the city’s perception of beauty and creativity. The fashion for young women of breeding had been pale hair and pale faces before he and I had innovated the contrasting vision now highly popular.

An hour and a half after he had begun with his equipment and his glamour, my hair was made up in a high dome of castor-dyed tendrils, the black strands perfectly juxtaposed by the insertion of bright paper fruits into my curls. The polarity between hair and face was increased when Sylvie powdered my skin and applied a circle of bright rouge to each of my cheeks, leaving my lips powdered and white. Théo used a last slight bit of his glamour to smooth the edges of my rouge and perfect the symmetry of my hair.

Théo left me, declaring his excitement to see me the day of the party and begin again with a new genius production. Since I had nothing else to do, Sylvie warned the chef that a celebratory feast of cake and champagne may be required by twilight, and to arrange for such an assembly should any particular event take place. She was good enough to surprise me with a platter of fresh market grapes and a glass of perry to keep me occupied until Dontae’s arrival. She excused herself, and I retreated to my balcony, where I spent most of my private time lost in my own thoughts.

I struggled to keep myself calm as my parents’ speech sunk in; my skin felt tingly, as if I were rubbing it rapidly, and my stomach was tight. I was allowed to dwell inside my own head until the same little elf girl -- I wondered if she had been recently bought by my father -- came to announce the arrival of the Duke of Surwood. I was up in an instant and, prancing out into the corridor, instructed from over my shoulder for her to bring some tea outside to one of the tables in the garden for my guest and me.

Practically bounding down the stairs, I came to an embarassing halt on the ground floor when I saw that my father had not invited Dontae into the receiving room as he normally did, but had engaged him in conversation in the middle of the foyer. I took a deep breath and composed myself before I sauntered over to where they were standing. The men broke off their conversation, and I stopped at my father’s side to curtsy to Dontae. A measured smile widened on his face and he bowed to me as well.

“My dear Duke, how wonderful it is to see you again after so long a time.” Dontae took my hand from where it was cupped with the other in front of me and kissed my knuckles gently, lingering ever so slightly before pulling his lips away. His fingers seemed reluctant to release mine.

“Indeed, it has been too long, milady. Alas, the politics of war...” His voice trailed off and his eyes lowered to the ground for an instant before shooting up to my father’s face.

“It must be difficult, sir, for you to find the means to visit us so often. We are truly blessed to have such a loyal friend.” My father said automatically.

“I hardly call a monthly visit often, sir, but I do make a great effort in coming to Ancréte. That is certainly true, and I am sure you can be at no loss as to why.” I felt my cheeks flush and thanked heaven for the liberal application of rouge already there.

“Heaven knows,” my father said, “that we pray for your safety and an end to your civil war in the near future.” The subject had little promise for any further conversation, and I fulfilled my duties by commenting on the beautiful day and inviting Dontae outside for a walk in the gardens. He had not expected a bit of exercise but was enthusiastic about stretching his legs after riding so long.

We took a turn in the garden, strolling up and down the aisles. He told me of his journey; it had been long and slow, but at least the weather had been mild, thanks to the time of year. We discussed this year’s harvest, the plans and excitement for the upcoming celebrations, and Amarante’s bloom into a lovely young woman who would soon be marking her coming of age with her debutante ball. In short, we talked of everything except his country’s civil war and the current situation of our relationship

After nearly an hour together, we returned to a small garden table close to the castle, where our tea was waiting. We sat and I served him his cup made up how he liked it and then made my own. We enjoyed the silence for the first few sips until I could stand it no longer. Despite what I knew my mother would say if she heard, I decided to breach the subject directly.

“Dontae,” I said, and he raised his chin slightly in acknowledgement. “When am I going to be able to see Surwood for myself?” He swallowed thickly and put his cup gently onto his coaster. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at me. He gave a wary smile before beginning.

“Elysse, you know my situation now. It’s dangerous in Readhe, the political climate is unstable, and I would hate for you to be hurt somehow.” He sighed and looked up to the sky, continuing his speech. “It’s much better if you remain here in Ancréte, where you’re safe. I couldn’t possibly take you away from a safe haven to a war zone. It would irresponsible. It would be immoral. This is where you belong, Elysse.”

I stared at him in disbelief. He knew that what I wanted most in the whole world was to get out of Ancréte, to go on an adventure, to experience some danger. He knew this, he knew that I loved him, and still he lectured me that Ancréte was where I belonged because it was safe. If all this time, for I had only known him during Readhe’s civil war, he had never expected to marry me and take me to Surwood, then why had he even been so bold as to court me?

“Where I belong?” I hissed. “I belong with you, Dontae. You know I have never wanted anything more than to see the world with you. I have spent my life in Ancréte, I am seventeen years old, and I am ready. Why can’t you accept the responsibility of --”

Dontae had been listening with that weary, almost guilty look on his face, but suddenly his arms tensed and he pounded the table with his open palms. His face hardened into a fierce composition and his irises seemed to darken even as I watched his overreaction. His neck flexed and for a brief second his face trembled. I began to fear that he was having an episode of some kind, but as soon as he had become infuriated, he calmed down.

“Silence!” He commanded darkly, and his eyes were focused on the table before him. I inhaled sharply. He did not look at me, but stood rigidly and addressed me as if from a distance. I noticed that his hands had formed into fists at his side, and his arms were fully extended.

“I must go. Forgive me.” With those words, he turned suddenly and stalked away from me, walking around the perimeter of the garden to the front of the castle so as to avoid anyone else inside.