The celebration stretched from the ballroom to even the streets of the slums, and not a single person above the age of fifteen could keep the name Pipperly Lenoir Onyx out of their mouths.
Pipperly herself spent the first evening after her Monarch Tests greeting the aristocrats and big-wigs, smiling placidly while her wine glass was continuously topped off by a cherub-faced servant in a pale yellow wig.
‘Why the f#$@ did I have to make the child servants so f#$@ing creepy? From a literary aesthetic point of view, it worked, but this is just wrong.’
Taelison and Zorion stood at her flanks, backs straight and their eyes continuously darting to and fro as others whispered or laughed loudly.
As if they expected her to be attacked at any moment.
Which- fair.
“My Queen,” a rotund man with a woman young enough to be his daughter on his arm bellowed from the foot of the dais. He gave a bow, expertly done despite his obviously half-drunk status, betrayed by the flush on his cheeks. He looked like a short-bearded Santa Claus in poofy black pants, stockings, and an oversized red waistcoat. “Greetings to the Dragon of the Onyx Dominion-! May your blade bring peace to the realm-!”
“Greetings,” she echoed back calmly, “May your home be warm in the cold of the Winter Season and your family full of health.”
He straightened back up after her blessing, grinning broadly and keeping a hold of his wife with a hand to the small of her back. She looked like the definition of a perfect lady, not a brown hair out of place, her makeup expertly done, her back straight and her dress tasteful while also being lavish and eye-catching in a warm pink.
“My name is Marquess Clarence Musgrave. This is my wife, Marchioness Penelope Musgrave. My children are regrettably at the estate at the moment, Edgar, my eldest son, I believe, is around your age..”
‘Ahh..’ Pipperly internally huffed, ‘Edgar Musgrave... He’s having an affair with his stepmother.’
“I should be honored to make the acquaintance of such a devout family,” Pipperly called out calmly, her voice still relaxed and her expression just slightly warm. “Your loyalty and faith are admirable.”
He chuckled, almost sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and nodding. “I’ll have to tell my son of your grand gestures today-! I’m certain he will be quite impressed.”
“No one is more impressed than I at the strength of the Dragon’s Vitality,” Pipperly smiled, “Blessings to you, Marquess.”
“Blessings to your Majesty,” he bowed, walking backward the necessary ten steps before guiding his wife to a new corner of the room to mingle.
While there was a pause in the almost-constant flow of well-wishers and brown-nosers, Pipperly shifted to the side of her throne and tilted her head to eye the side of Taelison’s face.
“Why do you look so serious, Sir Rowley?”
The blonde flinched for a second, then schooled his face again and offered her a weary, almost painfully pleading glance.
“My Queen... Would you grant this lowly knight an audience once the festivities have ended?”
Zorion made a warning sound in his throat but fell quiet when the Queen had shot him a reproachful look, not unlike one Miss Odilia would use to silently scold them as children.
“Only if you never call yourself lowly again,” she finally decided with a nod, turning back to look toward Taelison with a similarly chastising expression. “We can talk over breakfast.”
Taelison let out a soft, weighted breath, ten pounds seemingly melting off of his frame as he gave her a formal bow from where he stood. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Think nothing of it, I owe you a great debt for bringing me to this... Plane of existence,” she said the words as if they were trinkets being poked around on the desk of a curious child, but only Zorion seemed to pick up the mildly aggrieved tone she’d buried beneath light-hearted gratitude.
He said nothing, only drifting his eyes back to the festivities and the nobles, always eager to party and barely ever needing a reason to drink, watching as they became louder and merrier as the evening progressed.
Pipperly called it quits at two in the morning, ordering the knights to start getting people back to their carriages so she could go and pass out in the Monarch Chambers.
She propped the staff up onto a stand in the bedroom, two metal pieces on the dresser that perfectly fit the trinket for display.
She was stripped by maids and left in a dressing gown, much to her silent irritation.
She would need to talk to a seamstress after lunch, as well.
She slipped into bed at nearly three o'clock after her bath and hair-drying-combing routine, her eyes shutting with heavy blinks and her consciousness drifting before she could even take note of it.
She was woken up at seven in the morning and ushered into a bath, half-asleep as she was dried and combed and led over to the next torture device she’d be forced to wear.
The dress itself was gorgeous, a rich blue with an off-the-shoulder corset top, puffy sleeves on the upper arms, and form-fitting on the lower. The current fashion trend, if she wasn’t mistaken... It had a matching blue cape that flowed from her shoulder blades and back in a train, golden threading at the hem and bodice emphasizing the extravagance of the garment.
The only pattern she could see was the watery-layered swirl of golden petals and flower buds that seemed to bloom at the very end of the cape’s train.
She was given golden slippers and her hair put up into a high bun again. The crown went onto her head, and no sooner did she look in the mirror, did the silver on her head shift to gold.
‘Show off.’
‘Naturally.’
She grasped the staff before leaving the room, thanking the maids quietly and offering for them to finish the sweets they’d brought in as a morning snack to tide her over as she was dressed for an hour.
A guard she didn’t have an immediate name for escorted her to the royal family dining hall for breakfast, the long table long enough to comfortably seat about thirty, she was sure.
‘Ugh... The Duke’s taste is awfully excessive..’
She would need to place an order for a smaller table for intimate meals with guests.
Sophia and Marie, who had been likely appointed as her handmaids for the moment, were standing quietly off to the side, so Pipperly paused for a moment to observe them both.
“Which one of you can run the fastest?”
Their blank, suddenly confused faces, still smiling, radiated the ‘Eh?’ vibe.
“I need one of you to fetch Sir Taelison Rowley and Sir Zorion Lockridge from whatever duties they’re completing right now... Let their Commander know, if he protests, that I’m making it an order.”
Sophia nodded quickly while Marie gave a slight bow.
“I can get there and back with tha’ boys in a jiff, Miss-!” Sophia was quick to volunteer, a hint of an accent peeking through her words, though she didn’t seem to notice. “You can count on me!”
She braced one arm up while the other tightened the sleeve of her uniform, a strong-girl pose if Pipperly had ever seen one.
It made her smile.
“Good,” she nodded.
No sooner did Sophia disappear into the hallway, did Pipperly turn to Marie. “Would you mind letting the cooks know that I need two more serving places?”
“Of course, Miss,” she curtsied slightly and took off with a flutter of her skirts.
Pipperly was left with the unnamed guard hovering in the corner, his helmet letting morning light glint off of its visor as he stood at attention in silence.
‘Now.. how to broach the subject of a personal guard?’
She waited patiently for the knights, silently swirling her orange juice with a curious eye trained on the doorway. The knight at her flank stood unmoving, so after about ten minutes of awkward, tension-filled silence she shifted in her seat as much as her corset would allow and narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s your name?”
The knight gave a sudden jolt, helm snapping to her with a jump to his shoulder as if he’d forgotten that she had the ability to interact with him.
“Are you just generally ignored?” she continued when he said nothing, tilting her head enough that the tiara threatened to slip from her hair, golden eyes narrowed unflinchingly upon the well-dressed man in full plated armor. “You know you don’t need to be in full uniform to guard me, right? Pretty sure the semi-casual uniform would do.”
The knight's shoulders shifted, head tilting as if he were about to speak, before his hands, covered in heavy-looking gauntlet gloves, reached to lift the helmet from his head.
Silvery white hair poured out of the helmet and fluttered around his shoulders and chest, red eyes gleaming like rubies offering her a hesitant, unsure glance.
..Ah.. her thoughts blanked as she looked upon the knight, who looked more than a little uncomfortable with her blatant, silent staring. He held up a small placard card hanging from a silver chain on his hip, showing a name printed neatly. This was usually the point the Duke or Duke’s daughter would lob something at him to hide his cursed-
“My god you’re so fucking cute,” she whispered, practically lashing him with the words as she got to her feet and marched directly up to his chest in order to haul him down by the collar of the chestplate. “Why are you wearing such a stuffy outfit, huh? It’s a crime to have such beautiful features without confidence.”
‘OH MY GOD IT’S EUN-!!! AAAHHHHHHH-! MY BABAYYYYYYY-!!!!!!’
The man’s eyes were wide, now, a raging, harsh flush racing up his cheeks and ears as steam poured out of his ears.
‘Too.. close..’
“Ahh,” she took note of his flush and took a quiet step back, giving a little nod of apology. “Forgive me. I lost reason for a moment after seeing your cute face.. Feel free to put the helmet back on if it makes you uncomfortable, just know that I have zero issue with your adorable face.”
The man went so red he rivalled the strawberries sitting on the table in silent witness.
He nodded, picked up his helmet and put it on with a twist of his hair.
“Feel free to also have some food,” she mentioned off hand, doing her best to ignore that blatant stare he was giving her.
He didn’t move from his post.
Fair.
Marie returned from the doorway leading to a hall on the direct route to the kitchen shortly after with a number of servants, male and female, pushing carts covered with silver lids. She held up a hand for them to wait, and they idled at the side as the sound of rushing footsteps hurried through the hall in the direction of the exit doors. There was a sudden silence for a moment as the footsteps stopped directly outside the door, and an anticlimactically polite knock echoed sweetly through the room.
“Enter,” Pip called, shifting in her seat and leaning forward to rest her chin in the palm of her hand. A bit unladylike, but she could afford to be relaxed.
Those two boys didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of hurting her when they needed something.
And once they figured out what her plans were..
Well, they might just swear to end whatever even thinks to dare hurt her in exchange.
The door opened by a winded, sweat-dotted Sophia, who was smiling sweetly as if she hadn’t just run through the entire goddamn castle at top speed.
Pipperly had zero doubt that she had leaped from one of the second-floor balconies to the lower castle moldings at least once to save time.
‘Sophia had been a carnival performer, after all..’
‘And Marie had been an assassin.’
‘Odilia knew what she was doing, assigning them to the Queen-to-be.’
“Welcome,” she greeted when Sophia fell into a practiced curtsy and the two behind her fell into deep bows at the waist. Good. She hated the kneeling. “Come, sit... Breakfast is ready to be served.”
The two looked more than a little surprised by her statement, but she waved to two male servants who were quick to pull out the seats she pointed to, just three down from her on each side, offering plenty of personal space but remaining within polite conversational distance.
The boys shared a silent, communicative glance before moving to take their seats. Zorion took the left side of the table to her, while Taelison took the right. The plates were set out in silence, Taelison started nudging at the silver fork, twirling it to and fro as he glanced from Zorion to Pipperly and back again.
The table quickly turned lush with omelets, various prepared manners of eggs, bacon, toast, various kinds of butter and jams, and some very sus-looking oatmeal.
Pip waved off the servants trying to gather her plate together and prepped it herself before settling in for a hearty meal, minus the oatmeal.
“I didn’t invite you to breakfast so you would stare at your empty plates,” Pipperly drawled, nudging her fork at her scrambled eggs.
The boys hesitated but were careful to start taking portions under the watchful, flabbergasted eyes of the servants. After seeing their wary glances, Pipperly rolled her eyes and lifted her hand again to wave at the staff standing dutifully at the side. “You’re all dismissed, for now. I’ll call when we’re finished.”
The servants were quick to bow and back out of the room to scurry away, and Pipperly waited for a few more seconds after the door was shut before turning her attention back to the knights. “Alright, now that the eavesdroppers are gone, what is it that you wanted, Sir Taelison Rowley?”
Taelison jolted at the call-out, but wisely swallowed his surprise and straightened his already ner perfect posture, turning to look at her head-on.
“I need you to review the arrest and imprisonment of my father, Count Rowley and Marquese Lockridge. They have been accused of plotting against the royal family.”
‘Ahh,’ Pip inwardly relaxed while she put a bite of egg into her mouth, ‘Something I can easily manage. Thank god.’
“Is that the exact wording of the charge?” she pressed, sounding mildly indifferent.
Zorion narrowed his eyes.
“The charge itself is,” Taelison paused, eyes closing as he thought back to the damning words slashed into the parchment handed to his mother as the only notice to his father’s arrest. “Treason against the King.”
“Not King Regent?” She quirked up an eyebrow.
Taelison stilled, feeling the fork in his hand go a little slack as realization slowly set in. Zorion sucked in a heavy, powerful breath before letting it out in a silent, aggravated sigh.
“Easy enough fix,” she shrugged, “I’ll send a messenger to have them escorted to an interrogation room while it’s fixed. Talk to a few of the more trusted members of the Knight’s Order to make sure that they have a constant guard and that their food is checked magically periodically before delivery and exactly before serving. Don’t forget to check for poison on the dishware and utensils, as well. Sometimes the poison could be dried onto the prongs of a fork or in the shallow dip of a spoon... Sometimes it’s carefully concealed as a single drop of clear liquid in the base of a steep golden goblet.”
She took a deep dreg of her orange juice, then, and Taelsion could only gape at her.
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