⚠️Book 1: Chapter 42 – The Royal Court [Part 1]
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Book 1: Chapter 42 - The Royal Court [Part 1]


 

“In the past, people were born royal. Nowadays, royalty comes from what you do.”

- Gianni Versace.

 

Overall, Seraphina was quite pleased with herself. By working her small, dedicated team to the bone, she had successfully planted the seeds of what promised to be a highly profitable enterprise. The best part—the true key to it all—was that none of the funding came from her own purse. Even her generous allowance barely covered the basics, so relying on Lehman’s bank had been the perfect solution. It was a good thing indeed that Seraphina was very good at spending other people’s money.

A bit of informal market research—simply asking her father’s household knights—revealed that more masculine segment of the market would also enjoy her “new invention”, the boiled candies. Eloise was positively brimming with enthusiasm, so much so that her study of Alchemics and magic was suffering. The girl truly enjoyed coming up with different flavors. For the moment she would allow the girl a longer leash to allow her to play around. People needed outlets to express themselves, after all.

Apart from that, everything was going smoothly. She now indirectly owned a factory, a papermill located along the river, and a reasonably sized sugarcane farm near the marshes, a perfect example of vertical integration.

On paper, she employed just under fifty people, though most of them would probably have no idea who actually paid their wages.

Rashana’s reply letter proved interesting. Written in delicate handwriting, it expressed gratitude for informing her of Sajan’s shortcomings, along with profuse apologies. Yet a quick inquiry at the bank revealed Sajan was still heading the Aran branch. In Seraphina’s opinion, Rashana was far too forgiving.

The letter also contained subtle inquiries about how Seraphina had learned of their entire operation. Seraphina responded succinctly, implying it was foolish to try hiding anything from an Oracle, but promised discretion so long as Rashana’s family supported her business ventures. To sweeten the deal—and soften the sting of having strong-armed her family’s business—Seraphina offered a two percent stake in her new venture. This would give the bank greater incentive to grant her loans at ridiculously low interest rates.

As added insurance, she had hinted at the existence of several sealed letters deposited at various Adjudicator offices—the local equivalent of legal counsel—meant to be opened only if something untoward befell her. It was a bluff she hoped would hold.

The response she received by the speedy Royal Post more or less accepted her terms, albeit in guarded, coded language. As far as Seraphina was concerned, it was a binding agreement. Another piece of welcomes news was that both Rashana and Michelie would be present at her formal introduction to the Royal Court to show their support.

So far, so good.

“Eloise, what do you think of this dress? I do believe Master Wilforte, that old coot, has outdone himself,” the young blonde said, preening in front of a long mirror.

Her lady-in-waiting maintained a neutral smile. “The dress is very beautiful, my lady… but don’t you think it shows a bit too much skin? It is rather revealing and this will be your first formal presentation to the Court.”

“Why, Eloise, I never took you for such a prude,” Seraphina teased. “That’s precisely why I must be a bit daring. First impressions are important. I have nothing to be ashamed of, and Aran’s capital is stifling—even this late in the season. Why should we suffer in heavy garments just for propriety’s sake?”

“But… you’ll be in front of the King,” Eloise countered, still unsure.

“And must I bow to his idea of what’s appropriate? I think not. I like this dress, and mark my words, Eloise, it will soon become the height of fashion. Otherwise, I suppose I could wear breeches…”

“Oh, please, no, Lady Seraphina!” Eloise exclaimed, horrified. “That would be scandalous, even for y—” She caught herself. “I mean, scandalous for the Royal Court. The dress will be fine. It reflects your personality.”

Seraphina beamed at her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to commission a similar one for you here in the capital? I’m sure we can find a suitable dressmaker.”

The doll-like girl shook her head, worried. “While I appreciate the sentiment, Lady Seraphina, I think it’s too risqué for me. We are still very young. And those shoes—are you really going to wear them all day? They look uncomfortable. At first, I thought they were for riding.”

“Not all day,” Seraphina said lightly. “And you can get used to them. Look at what they do for my posture and figure.” She puffed out her considerable chest. “Sometimes, small sacrifices must be made in the name of fashion.”

“If you say so, Lady Seraphina,” Eloise replied, somewhat shakily.

“I most certainly do,” declared Seraphina, smiling confidently.

 

*****

 

Castle Aran was on the tall cliffs overlooking the city and the bay. It was in a highly defensible position, with high, imposing walls carved out of the local granite. Several additions throughout the years to its defenses had only made it even more imposing, the gargoyles along walls and matriculations making it look particularly fierce.

It was also a devil to get to, and the winding road that led up to it was a pain not only for invading armies but also, more importantly, Seraphina and her carriage.

The young noblewoman as a last effort had hired a tutor to go over the royal etiquette as a refresher for her. The memories she had inherited were clear on royal protocol, but it helped to hear the facts and forms presented firsthand to help cement the knowledge.

In the coach, she was busy having last-minute rehearsals with her Eloise as the carriage made its progress to the castle.

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