9

The rest of the evening was almost enjoyable. The hard part, at last, was over, and a strange hopefulness began to peer very hesitantly over the darkness that had settled into her. Bishop had said that she might have fun here, and while she'd argued with him at the time, part of her longed to feel normal again, if only for a few minutes.

She mingled leisurely, drifting between small groups of nobles conversing casually, spending a few minutes here and there. Small talk was easier now, everyone had an excess of compliments and praise. It made it a bit easier to indulge them with more of her time, the longer they spent growing her broken ego.

"There she is!" Came a familiar voice. She turned and there stood Lord Archibald Thornebridge and his meek-looking wife. "The new Queen herself."

His smile seemed to glow with pride, as if she were his own daughter, newly married. He took her gloved hands delicately, and squeezed them in greeting.

"What a beautiful ceremony," he praised. "You looked stunning! Like a goddess, truly. A replica of your magnificent mother."

A smile crept over her face. She knew, of course, that she looked just like her mother. But something about the mention of her, in this specific context… It felt as though she were finally being remembered. Perhaps that's all she'd wanted. It had felt, at first, as if her beautiful mother were being erased entirely, and that hadn't felt fair at all.

"Thank you, Lord Thornebridge, sincerely," she replied. "I'm sure she was even more resplendent during her coronation than anyone could ever hope to be, though."

The Lady Constance Thornebridge reached out and rested a hand on her arm, holding it warmly.

"She would be simply glowing, if she were here to witness you," she said, her voice nearly a whisper.

"I was looking for you," Lord Thornebridge interjected suddenly, releasing her hands and tucking his hand into the pocket on the inside of his dress coat. He withdrew an intricate golden pocket watch and turned it over in his hands. "There's something I thought you ought to be aware of. I'm not sure if anyone else has informed you?"

She tilted her head, frowning. "Informed me of what?"

Lady Constance turned away, gazing around at the other party guests. She seemed to be checking to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.

"You haven't heard the rumor going around tonight?" Lord Thornebridge asked. "It's all that anyone has been talking about, your Highness."

"I haven't heard any gossip at all," she explained. "Just… normal chatter. Everyone here seems to know everyone else, they're all just catching up?"

Lady Constance looked over her shoulder at her. "Poor dear," she murmured.

"Well, I hate to be the one to tell you. I really was sure you'd probably heard…"

Elodie gritted her teeth. "I haven't! Would you just tell me, please?"

Thornebridge's eyes widened slightly, and then he leaned down and whispered into her ear.

"There's been talk… The commoners are a bit, well… Uneasy."

"What?" She whispered back.

"They seem… oh, what's the word…?"

"Distrustful," Lady Constance offered.

"Yes, I suppose," Lord Thornebridge agreed. "Frightened, you could say. Your… The former King and Queen were very beloved, I'm sure you know. It seems the people feel you were put on the throne much too fast, and they wonder if you're… reliable?"

Thornebridge leaned back again, standing up straight. Lady Constance turned back towards the two of them and once again rested her hand on Elodie's arm.

"We've heard talk of unrest," she said frankly.

Elodie glared up at the pair of them. Do the problems simply never end? She wondered.

Without another word, she turned and rushed through the throng of guests towards the sound of Bishop's boisterous laughter. She finally pushed through the crowd and there he sat upon a plush sofa, surrounded by officials and noblemen, their wives standing in a semicircle around the group.

She cleared her throat and stared daggers down at her advisor. He looked up from his story and lowered his hands from where they had been gesticulating.

"What's the matter, my Queen?" He asked, smiling hesitantly.

"I need to speak with you privately," she grunted.

"Just a moment–"

"Now." She snapped. Around them, the guests that had gathered to socialize with Bishop seemed suddenly snapped out of their revelry, and began to drift away, as though trying to disappear back into the faceless crowd.

Bishop adjusted his posture, sitting up straighter on the couch, and patted the seat beside him. She sat down stiffly and reached over, grasping his hand and gripping it tightly.

"You said that putting me on the throne was the best thing to do," she growled. "You promised."

"It was, darling– What's the matter? Tell me what's troubling you, you seemed like you were finally starting to relax–"

"The people are unrestful? Distrustful? They don't like me?"

Bishop frowned, squeezing her hand in return. "That's normal, at first, darling. It happens with everyone who sits on the throne."

"What can be done?" She insisted. "I can't just sit by."

"You don't have to do anything–" He began.

"Tell me what can be done!" She hissed. She was trying her very best to keep her voice down. How much worse would it be if everyone here saw her behaving as she had in the days prior?

"We can arrange for you to address your people… I mean, it's normal for the new ruler to make a speech for all to hear, anyways, it wouldn't hurt to write you a small address. Reassure them of your dedication."

"Is there anything else?"

"There are some petitions making their rounds among the commoners, you ought to have a look at those, too."

"That's all?" She pressed.

"If I find anything else, I'll make sure to tell you," he assured her. Then, he stood, and brought her to her feet beside him. "Now, darling – Please. Enjoy your party. Tonight isn't a night for such worrisome thoughts. Tonight is for you."

She grumbled. "Last I checked, tonight was at my expense."

"Come now," he soothed, smoothing out the strands of her braids that had come loose. "Such a sour look on your face. Give me a smile, darling."

She bared her teeth at him, and he laughed gently, then leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"A small smile? For me?"

She scrunched her nose at him, and then rolled her eyes. Slowly, she forced a polite smile onto her face. He patted her on the shoulder and turned her away from him, back towards the party, hands on either side of her arms.

"Now," he said, pointing past her into the crowd. "There's a girl you might like, over there talking with a couple of boys your age. Go join them."

She crossed her arms, but he kissed her on the cheek again and gently pushed her off. With only a glance back at him, she continued towards the small group, and begrudgingly joined their light-hearted conversation. 

"You've never been riding before?" Asked one of the girls, her eyes a dull grey, ringlets of warm brown hair twirling down around an angular face. "Does your mother think it's dangerous? It's great fun."

"We don't own any horses," the boy replied. His hair was a mess, but his clothes seemed the most extravagant of those she'd seen yet at the party. "We used to, when I was young, but Mother sold them all."

"Why ever would she do that?" Another girl asked, shocked.

"Well, from what I know, they were being housed in the barn with the cows, and she thought it was making the milk taste dirty."

Everyone scrunched up their faces.

"Why not build them a stable?" Elodie asked.

"Papa offered that. But the plot of land where he wanted to build it is owned by a grumpy old curmudgeon and he refused to sell it to us or let us build there, even though he isn't using even an inch of it, not even for grazing."

A collective scoff.

"We have an unpleasant neighbor, too," interjected the girl with grey eyes. "He's always coming over to complain at my papa about every little thing. Every time he comes over, I hide upstairs with the maids until he leaves."

Elodie turned and looked at the boy with the messy hair. "You know, we have lots of horses and space. You ought to come riding with me and Bishop sometime. It really is great fun."

"You mean it?" He blurted, his eyes wide.

"Could we come, too?" Asked one of the girls among the circle.

Elodie shrugged. "Sure, if you'd like. I'll let the cooks know, maybe we could have a picnic out in the forest."

"You ride in the woods?" Asked a girl with a sky blue dress that matched her eyes. "Aren't you ever frightened?"

"Why?" Elodie replied.

"Well… There are things out there! Spiders, snakes… Bears!" She explained, her eyebrows shooting up high to express her fright.

"Bears?" Elodie laughed. "I've never seen a bear."

"They're big," said the boy suddenly. "And loud, too. Every noise they make is like thunder."

"You've met one?"

"When I went hunting with my father," he explained. "I saw lots of them. They usually run away. Most of them think we're scary. Snakes, too. They think we're very scary."

"Snakes think we're scary?" Asked a blonde girl. "That's silly. They'd eat you in a split second."

"Biggest snake I ever saw couldn't even eat a cat," the boy said smugly. "I doubt they could eat you, even if you were thin as a stick!"

Suddenly one of the girls glanced around at the group and stuck out her hand to Elodie.

"I'm Bella," she stated. "This is Alexander. Charlotte, Olivia, and Sophia."

Elodie glanced among them, pursing her lips. She took the girl's hand and shook it.

"Queen Elodie," she replied.