The Queen's Girl

Yulia

Yulia was beside herself with fury. She couldn't not be angry, it was impossible. She didn't care if her stupid maid could use whatever she had gleaned to their benefit—there was still another woman in the bed she was supposed to share with Her Majesty. This was utterly unforgivable.

She resolved to be as cold as possible toward this competition. She did adore a challenge, after all, and this Girl's very existence was her greatest competition now.

It couldn't be that this Girl, acquired in so short a time, knew the Queen like she did. Yulia knew Her Majesty down to her birthmark. She knew her moods and her desires, and knew how she liked to be touched. Yulia knew everything that made her monarch tick. And no stranger was going to ruin that for her.

Lianne returned swiftly, but Yulia was in no mood to compliment her speed. She crossed her arms and barked at her maid, "Speak."

"She's a nobody, Your Ladyship," Lianne gushed. "The footman told me she's a country bumpkin the Queen took a liking to. They hid her in the carriage on the way to the palace, is that not curious? Almost as though they were ashamed of her. This mixing of class..."

"Don't presume to teach me about the mixing of class," Yulia spat heatedly. "What else did the footman know?"

"They had her dressed pretty, but she's stupid and dull, and has no court manners. The Valet is teaching her lessons. But that was all I could get."

"Nothing about her background?"

Lianne shrugged. "All I have is a name. Kalati."

"A name is enough. It is powerful magic. I'll find out where she comes from, and there will be secrets to unearth. No one's closet is free of skeletons." Yulia rose from her perch at her vanity and went to her writing desk, pulling out paper wreathed in spellwork that she hoarded in a drawer. This, she cut into odd designs, then folded into birds. Once formed, these birds flapped to life. Yulia leaned over them and whispered the name of the woman she wanted information on. Kalati. She hissed it, like a curse.

Lianne opened a window, and these paper birds flew out into the prevailing wind, off to find the energy signature of the owner of the name they carried.

Yulia then set to writing letters to the Queen's more conservative advisors about Her Majesty mixing with a lower class. This would be enough to begin destabilizing the other woman's place here.

This quelled her anger and jealousy for a little while. She carefully addressed each letter and handed these to Lianne. "See that these reach the correct post boxes," she commanded. "I want these mailed now."

Lianne curtsied. "Yes, Your Ladyship. Do you have any other commands?"

"Watch the Suite. Don't let it out of your sight. I want to know anything and everything."