I Followed Fires

III. Adèle

Red suited her best.

Adèle has had many men and women tell her that the crimson silks she donned transformed her into an angel of God. Soon, it also became her favourite colour. To her, the colour red could be interpreted to ways more than one. Red, for example, represented the art of seduction; of alluring other men into a woman’s cage of sensual pleasures, just as the nymphs of the sea did in her Greek mythology books. Red could also be the colour of pain, as it was the very color of the blood that ran in the human body. Blood could easily be spilled due to wounds that would scar the human skin forever. Red was also simply the colour of passion; the vibrancy of the fervency of a human, eager for something or someone.

That is why she chose to wear to the party tonight. To appear as the ambiguous female she is, the vague young woman whose tongue spoke shyly in obscure words.

Adèle did not speak much, as many have noticed. It was her brother who became her spokesperson, who introduced her without her having to introduce herself. It was all due to her ever-growing shyness, which has become her prominent trait ever since she was an infant. Adèle excused herself from the throne room, after she whispered to her brother that she would be spending her night pacing through the castle halls.

Henry laughed when Jean-Michel, her brother, told the king. “She is a child trapped in a woman’s body,” the king commented. She did not appreciate his unflattering comment, for she was unaware that others found her as nothing more but a child. Alas, it was another unpleasant consequence of her shyness.

The moonlight lit the halls for her. The torches on the walls were of no use, as the moon provided a natural source of light for dark nights such as this. Adèle’s hands fumbled with one another, and she stopped near an open window to gaze into the French landscape. The moon silvered the trees of the woods, and winds blew and passed through her hair and kissed her skin. Jean had told her that if she wanted to return to her chambers, she could. It was what she had intended to do after she exited the throne room anyways, and what Jean had also wanted for her to do too.

Fear filled her brother’s eyes when she told him she wanted to stroll around the castle alone. He was always afraid of her, as all brothers too. 

“You do not know the urges Frenchmen have, especially in the castle,” he said. Jean told her tales of knights who raped servants, only because an urge had corrupted their minds. The tales were enough to scare her, but it would not stop her from wandering around places she was not allowed. 

“Enjoying your time in French court?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

Adèle turned around to see the beautiful figure of Mary, queen of scots, standing before her. Immediately, she curtsied and said, “Your grace, I did not expect to see you outside the throne room.”

“You rarely speak, do you?” asked Mary. “Come, I do not intend to hurt you in any way." 

“I cannot help my shyness. It irks others, especially my brother,”

“Yes, I wonder why your brother is so talkative and never lets you speak. But now that I am aware of your shyness, I understand,” Mary gave a warm smile. “Have you met the king’s sons yet? Francis and Bash?”

“I’ve met Bash, but not Francis. Not yet anyways. I assumed he was too busy being in love with you, your grace,” She said, and caught Mary blushing. She prided herself in being able to display herself confidently, especially in front a queen. “Bash is a kind man, I’m sure, but something about him tells me he avoids society,”

“You are correct,” said Mary. “But Bash is difficult to understand, as you may know now. As most of us prefer domesticity and life inside the palace walls, his mind wanders off to the bloodwoods. Walk with me,” Mary took her hand and they paced through the palace halls. Adèle remained as calm as she could, but the very thought of strolling with a queen, the ruler of an entire nation, unnerved her. Yet, it would also be something she would soon tell her brother to make him proud, and for that, Adèle smiled to herself and continued walking with Mary, queen of scots.

 “Why don’t we go riding tomorrow? We shall leave at first light. I take great pleasure in going riding at morn, do you?"

“Your grace, I would gladly accept your offer, but don’t you have matters to attend to? Wouldn’t I be interrupting your royal matters?” Adèle asked.

“A royal queen grows tired of royal matters, Adèle, and I want to make you feel comfortable in French court, and not surrounded by complete strangers. Perhaps Francis can also go riding with us, since you have not been fully acquainted with him,”

Adèle nodded, and thought Mary’s suggestion as pleasing. A feeling crawled into her heart; the feeling of not being surrounded by complete stranger. The feeling of comfort.