cocodelicious
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- Posted: Wed, 19 Mar 2014 02:21:32 +0000
- There was something familial and oh so comforting when Katherine was in the company of Elizabeth or Sofia. When she had first arrived, she had felt so displaced among everyone there. Yes, she had Sofia to help her out, but her hand maid seemed to have her own agenda, leaving Katherine to find her way. She had stuck to Elizabeth like glue, holding tight once she bonded with them, finding herself feeling a little less alone and a little less scare. The only other person who she felt comfortable around, regardless of the situation. She will not speak about her father's affair with Elizabeth. She'd thought this "Great Matter" of Marius's would be done by now and she'd sit upon the throne as his queen. Her father kept telling her it was only a matter of time but Katherine for one was getting sick of it. She had no idea how much longer she could keep the king's interest as long as she was not his wife. He'd housed her in lavish quarters that were almost fitting for a queen, yet he have not shown any interest in marrying her. Perhaps Elizabeth was right about where her heart ...no ''In matters of the heart there is never an easy way out.'' she took a bite of the delicious pastry.
Did she found pleasure in laying down with the king? He was a passionate lover, Katherine had fallen for his charms. She desire him like a man lust over a woman. It was shameful that such thoughts run through her mind, only to leave her aching for his touch. Only Marius. But days with Marius grew dull. It was the same silly games and the same silly conversations. She grew tired of chatter idly about power and the like. But she'd been bored of Marius’s company for quite some time now, since much before their arrival to the castle. It wasn't as though she'd expected anything different. There were always plans, plans plans plans. They were all consummated with plans, all born with plans, and there was hardly deviating from those plans. They could adapt such plans, but never truly change them. Katherine sighed, there was little to do about any of this, really, she was going to spend the rest of her life acting as a bed partner or her mother’s shadow. There was no choice, no discussion. But she could fight it in her little ways. Micael on the contrary had awake something inside her she honestly didn't knew it existed ''I love them both,'' Katherine whispered, she didn't love Marius because he was the king. After spending years beside him as a friend, she had grown fond of his presence.
The world itself didn't change. Later, much later, when Katherine thinks back on those moments, she wonders why she ever thought it would. Of course, the world didn’t look any different, of course nothing had changed; they were different; they had changed. However, the world hadn’t. For the world itself, nothing had changed; no time had passed; for everyone in it. They, the three of them, were still the same children they had been before, except of course that they weren’t. Marius, Micael and Katherine. But somehow, despite the evidence, it seemed like the world had changed, that somehow everything was different. Maybe, Katherine though many years later, it was just her perspective on the world that had changed. She was so focus on their conversation that she didn't notice they were been watch, or that Sofia had left. Micael voice draw her attention back to reality ''Ah Micael,'' she lower her head then invite him to sit ''Sit, join us for tea.'' her voice was playful and sweet. It seem forever since they talk.
Minutes later Marius walked on them. She wanted to raise from her chair to properly greet him, but she decided not to. ''Your Majesty.'' Katherine bow her head because she was obligated to do it nor because she felt like. Her glance move to Elizabeth who seemed amused by the situation. ''Elizabeth...'' she sighed. The couple of males start discussing shortly after Marius dismiss both ladies. Katherine place down her cup. She was not happy. He was breaking her heart by treating her in a harsh way. Didn't he felt something for her? Didn't they kissed under the moonlight and embrace each other until sunrise? There are moments, when the pain becomes too much, that she wishes she could turn back the clock. That somehow she could change everything back and turn back into that other Katherine, the one who didn't know what she could have; she wanted to be her, the girl who lived in the before, the girl who'd played with two boys. That’s who, in her darkest moments, she wanted to be, the girl who didn’t know, the girl who hadn’t lost; the one who had never known there was something she could lose. Her heart might have been better if she (they) had never known; it would definitely be an easier world to live in. ''Your Majesty. Micael love it was a pleasure to see you.'' Katherine bow her head, then left with Elizabeth.
“You shall die by my sword!” A child crowed as Katherine countered his every movement, their wooden swords clacking loudly in the garden, bouncing off the walls of Spain’s fair palace. Katherine smiled widely as she thrust her sword towards the child, putting all of her might behind her blade. Today was a good day; she had been afraid, for a while, that child could hurt her. Elizabeth’s voice spoke up abruptly from the shadows, causing Katherine to miss her final strike. The kid’s blade tapped her chest, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing—dead. Katherine sat at the fountain’s edge, the happy babbling of the waters at her back muffled and far away. Her hooded gaze reached long into the distance, past an overflowing garden and between columns to a stretch of alien blue. The air was damp. It had rained, or would rain soon. Or maybe the warm, humid breeze rolling on off the ocean toying with her senses. Her time at the castle brought temperate summers and milder winters, but her pale flesh had long adapted to a comparatively parched climate. A young girl approach her, inviting her to play with the rest of the children. ''Hide my dear children for I shall find you all.'' her voice was passive almost dull, she didn't want to run after anyone. Nor the king, especially not kids. Her hands folded innocently together before her. She was growing tall, she no longer quite had the body of a child. But her face was wide and full with youth. She smiled slightly crookedly, and ducked her head out of the shadow, waltzing into the sunlight, blinking slightly from the adjustment. Hours of playing under the sun had exhausted her, so she politely said goodbye.
The colorful fabric hung loosely around her body and billowed out while she walked across the hallway. Her hair was braided back with her hair pinned up with a golden pin matching the belt which kept her dress from leading a life of its own. Like on many other days she had ended up on the balcony which faced the gardens. From her comfortable chair she looked out over the green scenery, following the movements of the small birds inhabiting it. A small book which she had brought with her from the library lay unused on the small table parallel to her chair, right next to a large carafe of water. It is one of those days when almost everything seems a distraction. The grandeur of the castle is dingy, artificial, in comparison to the butter-yellow sunlight on the gardens beyond the walls. She could hear women’s laughter from yonder, and the breeze that sweeps through the leaves, and in her mind’s eye he could see the scattering petals everywhere, landing in the porphyry fountain and making ripples in the reflected sky. It is always the same petals, always the same scudding clouds.
FRANCE
Halloween was drawing closer and the festive mood had engulfed France. Parties and games and a masquerade to usher in the night meant she had so much to look forward to. If anything, Katherine loved a good ball, eager to find the perfect gown, the best way to dress her golden locks, and to make her own mental list with whom she would pursue dances with. The King was, of course, at the top of her list, though she had to admit court would be bustling with dashing, gallant men for the holiday. Perhaps she would not captivate the room as the Queen Isabel would (for no amount of silks, jewels, or elaborate styles could ever draw away from the Rosas of Spain) but she knew her worth. With the right amount of rouge, a touch of gloss to her lips and a coy smile, she would have her fair share of glances. Still, with all that was happening, Katherine felt less than festive. She had too many choices between her gowns to find the perfect outfit for the masquerade. Nothing felt right and she had effectively shoved more dresses back into her wardrobe rather than finding anything that suited her fancy. She was restless and refusing to admit to the reason behind naming her lack of an outfit as the root of her frustration. It was king Marius who troubled her heart, the slightly possibility of him engaging with the french queen was making her anxious.
As countess, Katherine had long since learnt how easy it was to decline the odd, unnecessary invitation to attend a masquerade ball. When it came to the festivities though, all bets were off. Halloween was a time for entertainment. Through deepest snow or strongest gale, each member of the Spanish court were expected to attend the festivities. There had been a time when Katherine adored just being in France, and to some extent, she still did. Yet with the addition of her lover to take care of, her attitudes had inevitably matured. One thing that most certainly hadn't changed though, was her willing enslavement to fashion. Before the Halloween month was even upon them, she'd already begun pick to out potential designs and color schemes; keeping her eyes and ears open for the winter trends. Not just for herself. Oh no... Katherine took great pleasure in trying her hardest to organize the entire Spanish's wardrobe. It was perhaps the one thing she could actually do right, though most the time her suggestions went through one ear, and out the other. This year, she was determined to get her way completely. Which meant her darling Marius and his plain color clothes were no longer safe. Katherine found deep pleasure in dressing him up and undressing him, no doubt.
After going through her entire wardrobe she sent word with Sofia to the seamstress “I'm not sure about the green,” the Countess told the fabric stall merchant, as she ran her porcelain hand over the forest-green velvet splayed out for her. She was meant to be trying to get out from the pine tree look, but then again, green did compliment her complexion well. “May I see the red, silvery olive and gold brocade?” With another 'but of course my Lady,' the merchant assembled a new selection of rolls for the picky customer, and begun to lay them out; one by one. Just in time for the intended coat hanger to draw near. Her hand maid asked if she wanted to drink. Instead, she unrolled the brighter of the two silvery olive and gold brocade fabrics with a pensive 'hmm'. ''Silvery olive, naturally.'' She finally answered, as if the merchant should have known better. At once, he was fishing two rolls from the chest; one a plain yet vivid lace, and the other slightly paler, yet trimmed with shimmering silver and deeper olive brocade patterns. “Ooh!” Came the blushing Katherine's approval as she ran her hand over the fabrics. It was only a matter of time before seamstress was holding the patterned fabric against Kath's arm as though measuring for a sleeve, and then coercing her other hand to hold the plain material against her chest.
Time-skip. Confident all eyes were averted, Katherine seized the opportunity to give a subtle tug upward on what felt like a scandalously low neckline. Though it was plain in the dress of surrounding noblewomen that the swooping cut was characteristic of France, the unsettling feeling of overexposure would not relent as she glimpsed the ghostly stretch of skin beneath her collar bone. Granted, her passionate lover responsible for the fitting had assured her line looked typical, and she was nothing short of truthful in her assertion that the accompanying corset was not as diabolical as it appeared – despite Katherine’s deep skepticism. The french wear had been her first french purchase - not because looking the part of an outsider was bothersome, but because she didn't want to cook in her underclothes. She felt like she could hardly breathe. She certainly could only think of picking at her food, least of all putting it inside of her. Alcohol, it seemed, would be her only comfort as she took her stunted little breaths. It was, after all, something she had a hand in designing. The bodice was heavy with embroidery, which spilled down the entire front of the pale olive silk. The thread itself was silver and the palest gold, tiny little stars dripped down her dress accentuated by glittering little crystals. She'd removed the ribbons, she'd insisted that the sleeves be more simple, she'd refused for her hair to be put into any ridiculously unnatural position and she'd avoided wearing an excess of jewelry. It did not matter if they were spending some time in France, she would not dress terribly uncomfortably.
Except for the corset, which hugged her too snuggly and made it feel as if she could rest her chin on her chest if she so pleased. She felt stupid. But she was the moon tonight and she might as well glow a little bit. Moving was difficult for too long and she'd found herself leaning against a pillar after some time, casually off to the side, observing the carousing in the hall. Katherine was still to enter to the main ballroom, but first she was catching her breath. She felt so terribly pinched, and certainly a little more drunk that she would have liked, the cup never lingering too far from her lips. The french at least knew how to throw a party. The queen must be pleased to be part of such a festivity. Better yet, they couldn't find her. Her gilded silver mask was rather plain in comparison to some of the others, but Katherine had an eye for craftsmanship, and it was certainly finely made, the inlaid, swirling patterns as precise and beautiful as the gems that glittered around her temples. ''Yes more wine.'' Katherine smiled at the servant who carried a trace. She place her hand against the pillar. The view was spectacular.