Een kort verhaal van Katelijne Jonkers

“Just a few more moments, your majesty,” voiced the maid to her left. She likely noticed the sour look on the girl’s face as she glanced at the ridiculous gown in the corner of the chamber.
“Why must we hold so many royal dinners, Cecile?” 
“It is tradition, your majesty,” the maid replied without a moment of thought.
“A century old tradition,” Adrianna muttered under her breath and then louder and kinder, she ordered the maids out of the room.
She was perfectly capable of dressing herself at the age of nineteen. The young Queen studied the intricate dress. White flowers curled around the long ruby sleeves and snaked up the floor length train. Red for bourgeois and white for clergy, how traditional, how… old. She sighed. Three days, she reminded herself, three days and she would no longer be alone in this prison built like a palace.

She sat at the head of the large wooden table and set her eyes on the golden French lilies that donned the white tablecloth. She nodded every few minutes and said “Absolument monsieur!” when one of the nobility addressed her directly. These feasts were nothing new for Adrianna, the only thing that made them bearable was the vivacious young lady to her right. Eloise was currently displaying her exposed chest like it was part of the meal and laughing too loudly, hoping to score herself a suitable husband. The first friend she had made, when she arrived at the palace not two months ago. Eloise was the daughter of her strategist Sir Louis Archambeau and though it was no longer ‘tradition’ for men to marry their daughters off for money, it was all many high class French families expected of their girls. The Palace of Versailles was stuck in the middle ages while the outside world modernised further every day. Adrianna thought it was utterly ridiculous but change took time and so she helped her dearest friend find a husband as best she could.

“Have you seen Eloise dance, Monsieur Bissonnette?” Adrianna asked in her practiced French accent, turning to the nobleman a few seats away from her. “Oh, it’s simply delightful, she has true talent, you must ask her to take the floor with you!” She continued brightly.
The slight undertone of an order in her voice, prompted the middle-aged man to stand up and offer his hand to Eloise who accepted it graciously. They shared a cheeky smile before Eloise was whisked away by a potential future husband. Adrianna turned back to the plate in front of her, the food looked more like art than anything edible, but she had lost her appetite when her eyes had landed on the hateful man to her heft. She had noticed him earlier that night and scowled. She had hoped he would not arrive at all but of course he had, it was his duty. The old man was the royal advisor and had been for a decade or two, and he was the very bane of her existence. His countless daily reports and scalding often got in the way of her plans.
“Adrianna, a wonderful little soirée,” he said mockingly. A test, to see if she would react to his lack of respect.
“Merci beaucoup, Gaston.”
He may have been a good many stations higher than most of the men and women at the table, but he was not as high ranked as she was. She slumped her head, this was going to be a long night, she thought.
“Is the crown perhaps too heavy for her Grace?” the advisor commented, his mouth set in a twisted smirk.
Though it wasn’t his intention, he reminded her that even her posture wasn’t royal. He was taunting her but what he said was true. The crown was made of thick gold with heavy jewels, it was awfully masculine, one of the smaller things she would change when she revolutionised the French monarchy. Instead of indulging him further she turned to his son and gazed into his handsome face. He looked nothing like his father, his chocolate skin in stark contrast to the advisor's crackly white skin.
“Charles,” she smiled at him. They were friends and the royal advisor hated it.

Day 2

“I think he might propose soon!” Adrianna laughed.
Eloise had said the same thing about the last three men she had danced with. The two ladies were sitting on a lush rug in the palace gardens with trays of food they had taken from the kitchens. It was a guilty pleasure to retreat from the palace, they would sneak into the kitchens together and fill silver platters with eclairs and madeleines. Every Tuesday they would sit under the same tree, Adrianna would breathe in the fresh air and Eloise would gush about handsome noblemen.
“You know he is actually quite interesting and very well accomplished,” Eloise said.
Adrianna gasped as if it was the most wonderful news. “And only ten years older than you!” she exclaimed, searching for a pistachio macaron.
“I’ll ignore your rudeness, but only to stay in the good graces of the Queen,” Eloise replied with a roll of her eyes.
They laughed as leaves fell in their hair and sugar stained their fingertips.
“The gossiping maids tell me that you’ve received word from the English Prince,” Eloise said, a question in her voice.
Anger flared in the Queen's hazel eyes, she was sure that her advisor had received word and not yet told her.
“I am craving crêpes, my lady,” she lied smoothly and stood from the blanket.
Adrianna swept through the halls, ignoring the scurrying staff and the crystal chandeliers that begged for anyone's attention. She did, however, stop when she noticed the Queen's portrait on one of the walls. The gold framed painting was commissioned when Adrianna had been crowned eleven months ago. She glared at the artwork, there was a certain soft, unguarded expression on the Queen's face that was not her own.

Adrianna burst into the advisor’s office, simmering with rage. He had kept important information from her and now her plans were delayed. "Why is it that I heard the news about the Prince from the maids, of all people?"
"What a pleasant surprise your majesty, I was just about to inform you of the news."
"Well how considerate of you Gaston," the Queen of France scowled unkindly.
"Forgive me for saying so, but you're not usually interested in important visitors or any important royal matters in fact!"
"I am when it comes to an alliance with England!" she replied, slamming her jewelled hands on his desk.
The Frenchman shrugged at her. “Well now you know.”
She turned from him all but ready to stomp out of the room and slam the door like a child. “Oh, before I forget, he sent you something.” Adrianna turned back, surprised. “I had it taken to your rooms,” dismissing her by giving all his attention to the stack of papers on his desk and tapped away at his tablet.

Day 3

“Will you marry him?” Eloise asked longingly.
The moment she had laid eyes on the gift from the Prince she had been excitedly planning their wedding day.
“If it is what is required of me,” Adrianna replied knowing that she would not be marrying the Prince of England.
He was visiting her at her court to align their countries but not through a royal marriage. Eloise sulked away from the gift that lay on her bed and moved to the Queen's desk, nosily ruffling through her things. Finally, Adrianna took a proper look at the gown the Prince had sent her, and an unexpected smile set on her plum painted lips. To anyone else, it was simply a beautiful gown in royal blue, with golden swirls donning the pleated skirt and heart shaped bodice but she knew exactly where those swirls came from. What they meant. She felt a flush travel from the base of her neck to the tips of her ears, she felt suddenly not so alone in the Palace of Versailles.
“A smile, well I’ll be damned!” Eloise snickered.
“It’s a slight twitch Eloise, nothing more,” the Queen's smile grew into what could only be a grin. “Perhaps you’ll just marry him for love!” Eloise sang the words, excitedly.
“Oh, give it up El,” she turned back to the dress and ran her fingers along the exquisite material. She forced herself to turn away from the bed and walk over to where her friend sat. Adrianna looked down at the document Eloise was studying with a slight frown.

“A hit list perhaps?” Eloise asked jokingly.
“Just,” Adrianna paused and let out a breath of fake laughter, “my favourite people at court.” She held her breath, the sentence was thick with doubt. She only hoped Eloise didn’t notice how the blood had drained from her face or how rigidly she was standing.
“But you have never even met any of these lords and ladies from England.”
“Well, I’ve been hearing about them since I was still learning how to curtsy, I feel like I already know them!” she improvised and would have been proud if not for the rush of guilt that coursed through her body.
“I’m glad I’m at the top of the list then, your Grace,” her friend said, “I will leave you to get ready for his highness' arrival.”
“Look at the time already!” she agreed and smiled at Eloise softly as she strode out of the room.
Adrianna was lucky the list was all Eloise had discovered and not the second phone lying under a pile of books in her third drawer. For someone who had so much to hide she was rather useless at finding inconspicuous hiding places. The Queen flopped on her bed in a very unroyal manner and closed her tired eyes. It was the first time the young women felt shame for what she was there to do and why she had befriended the effusive lady. A scary thought settled in her mind, when the Prince did arrive, Adrianna would need to pretend that no-one at court mattered to her. No one did really… except for Eloise.

Queen Adrianna drifted through the palace with an envoy of courtiers traipsing behind her at a distance. She noted the beautiful ceilings adorned with intricate illustrations of Greek gods and appreciated what she had accomplished. Everything was in place. She was wearing the lovely blue dress to greet the Prince; her hair was pulled back in a thick braid. She had sat in front of her vanity for an hour as two maids had stuck blue hair jewels into the braid and apologised profusely when she had squeaked in pain. The last thing she had done before leaving her chambers was place the crown atop her head and smile into the mirror. Adrianna had completed only one task after Eloise had left, to the royal advisors’ great annoyance. She had requested that the Prince receive the apartments down the hall from her and two minutes later Gaston Fortier had burst into her rooms without announcing his presence. One very long, very useless lecture later she had calmly given him the excuse she had come up with in those two minutes.
“I would like to get to know the Prince and this palace is simply so large that if his room was anywhere else, I wouldn't be able to find it!” She had said, exasperated.
His firm reply had been along the line of: “It’s not the proper way your majesty.”
“I also need to show him I respect him and his station, he is a Prince, and he will receive a chamber fit for a Prince.”
“But you are a Queen!”
“Enough, Gaston,” she had said impatiently. “I have ordered the maids to clean the room for him and I expect they’ll be well on their way by now so it would be incredibly rude of you to interrupt them with your shouting!” And with that she had ordered him from the room. The Queen of France smiled as she recalled the look on his old, wrinkled face.
“Her majesty the Queen,” the doorman announced, pulling her back to the present.
She had requested that the Prince be brought to her favourite room upon his arrival. Adrianna entered the library that once belonged to King Louis XVI and there at the round table, sat the Prince of England. He stood from his seat and walked over to her without hesitation, running his hands through his honey hair.
The young man stopped when he was only a breath away and leaned in close to her ear. “The gown suits you, Avantika Elakshi.” She shuddered as he spoke her name. Her true name.
“The British accent suits you, Prince.” Only she knew under the thin layer of human skin he was not a Prince at all.
Their crowns had made for convincing masks.