A Dangerous Thing

***Start of the year 1773.***

Today was the first day of the New Year’s Celebrations, which lasted a week. Each year, the king and queen looked more extravagant. My theory was that the queen’s wig grew an inch every year, looking like she was carrying a strange cream pie on her head. The king was no better. As we entered the hall for the queen’s speech, which heralded the New Year’s Celebrations, I could see that he was wearing green shoes with excessively long ends, decorated with golden ducks.

Of course, the other guests were no better. I could see embroidered, wide skirts, powdered wigs and knee breaches everywhere. When I stood on my toes I could see a large wine fountain at the side of the hall. In the middle, in the back of the palace, sat the king and queen. This all took place in a heavily decorated ballroom, where the golden nymphs, cherubs and satyrs would not let you be.

The pressure of the corset on my body did little to calm down my quick heartbeat. Nervously, I looked at the small silver clock in my medallion.

He had to either show up now, or refrain from attending entirely.

As the queen got up slowly and dramatically, the chatter in the ballroom quieted down.

Please don’t arrive.

Please.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the nasal voice of the queen. I groaned internally -externally this would have caused a scandal- as the queen took care to mention every courtier that had aided her in assigning the theme for this year’s Celebration -birds- and every lady that had personally recommended a new fashionable item to her -all of them.

I was, however, very relieved. So relieved in fact, that I looked at the wine fountain longingly, despite the fact that I was expected to heed the queen’s every word. My eyes searched the room for Frederick, but I couldn’t see his handsome blue eyes anywhere.

That is when my heart almost leaped out of my chest.

Screams echoed through the ballroom, just behind the large double doors that guarded it. I, just a few meters away, recognized a hoarse voice between the screams.

“This man is a TRAITOR to the nation!”

“Sir, I was just delivering the swan to-.”

“SWANS ARE A DANGEROUS THING TO EAT.”

My face became beet red. I wanted to drown myself in the wine fountain instantly.

“This swan has been ordered by the queen months in advance!” I heard an older servant say.

“I am the GUARDIAN of this country, and I demand an investigation,” said the hoarse voice I hadn’t heard in years. Drops of sweat poured down from beneath my perfectly powdered wig.

All the lords and ladies were staring at the door. Some of them looked at me curiously. Probably because I looked like I was about to be slaughtered. The queen stood stiffly before her throne, red showing in her neck, but not on her snow-white face. The king looked rather amused at her, as far as I could see from the distance.

“And THAT could easily be poisoned!” the man said while pointing dramatically at the wine fountain.

At every word the voice said, I flinched.

Loud footsteps were headed towards the doors. Protests were uttered by servants from both sides of the door, but as far as I could tell, that didn’t detain him.

The heavy doors were pushed open with an ease that baffled the lords and ladies. Even I had forgotten about the strength this man possessed.

As the doors burst open, I was immediately stricken by complete misery. It was time to finally face the thing that I had come to fear for years.

He looked even worse than I could remember. His dark, unpowdered -the horror- hair was hanging loosely underneath the hat. A hat that was only worn outside, on the battlefield. He was still dressed in his red uniform, which wasn’t even properly buttoned. I was actually glad that his beard was only a stubble, and not the long, unkempt one I had seen years ago. His simple black shoes were also dull, but not dirty.

However, the chaotic, wild look in his eyes had not changed.

“Sir Thomas,” said the amused voice of the king, seemingly to the queen’s annoyance, “I am so glad that you could join us for this year’s celebrations.”

Any other king would have thrown the man out of the palace. But not king Adelmo, a king notorious for his eccentricity.

One only had to take a look at his shoes.

The king’s eccentricity was not the only reason that the intruder wasn’t sent away. The man in the doorway, Peyton Thomas, had after all saved the country more times than any lord or lady could remember.

When his eyes found me, I thought I was going to faint.

Peyton Thomas, you see, was my estranged husband. Unfortunately, he was not estranged enough to not recognize me.

“CLARICE.”

I flinched, looking around me for a possible escape route. The ballroom, however, was packed with people. All lords and ladies had to attend.

“Yes… dear,” I said, doubt and uncertainty evident in my whimpering voice.

He saw how the entire room was looking at us. He lifted his hand, as if he wanted to fan them away.

“Go back to.. whatever you were doing,” he said, as if the room was his to command, “I will solve the matter of the swan.”

The queen took this opportunity to resume her dull speech. The attention of the room, however, was no longer focused on her. Although some lords and ladies at least possessed the decorum to pretend as if it were, I could see them trying to steal glances at me and my…husband. My husband, who was now steadily walking towards the left side of the room, to the gorgeously decorated buffet. The swan, that had somehow been painted in edible gold, was examined thoroughly by him.

“As you all are aware, the theme of this year’s celebration is that of birds.”

I looked down at my own, wide pastel blue dress, which was decorated with small little white feathers. It had cost me a small fortune. Having an estranged husband had it’s advantages.

The queen, in her little golden ducks, rambled on about the beauty of birds.

“How beautifully they fly away every winter, only to return-.”

BANG.

A loud slashing noise echoed through the ballroom. I reluctantly turned towards the buffet table. Only to see that my husband had somehow acquired a large kitchen knife, which he was using to destroy the golden swan. The queen let out a high nasal shriek, whereas the king had the audacity to laugh in her face. At this, the rest of the court heartily followed his example, although the swan had cost more than some of them could muster in a year. I myself managed to fabricate a wide, painful grin.

“Sir Thomas, please refrain from investigating the dinner table,” the king said, still unable to fully control his composure, “you have already been dismissed from your function as General.”

Peyton made a rigid bow towards the king, and slowly walked towards the others standing about the room. His dark eyes found mine. I blushed, and looked away.

I hadn’t seen him in six years.

***

Hi! My name is Feline, or FelinaBina. I love to write, and this is my first chapter for Peacocks and Swans, a story inspired by a writing prompt on reddit, while listening to Baroque music.

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