Muinín A Fháil (Gaining Trust)

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Anna

I can see he is trying to gain my trust but his efforts will prove fruitless.  All he cares about is power and not truly the greater good.  He learned from his father's weaknesses so he will hide behind a mask as he plays me and others for a fool. 

"So, you think turning this shell of a dark castle to a palace will earn you a better reputation." I turned the subject back to politics.

"When my mother was alive there was sunlight and beautiful music but after her death, there has been nothing but darkness and sin.  I regret the harmful things my father has done to our own people but I cannot turn back the clock.  I can only look toward the future." He said through his mask.

"Your first act was to murder a beloved king and his son, how do you believe that earns respect?" I asked.

"My father's plan could not have been undone.  I do hope you find forgiveness for something that was not my choice." He lifted his glass and finished his port. 

I saw the savage in his eyes as he addressed the Lámhach court.  I know this is just an act to gain my trust but why?  He cannot be scared of a tiny princess such as myself.

"Forgiveness for such things are not possible, his majesty.  I'm sorry to say you have made your bed and now you must lye in it.  As cold and discomforting as it is there is always a consequence for such sins." I took the last sip of my own glass of fruitiness before his private secretary entered and announced the arrival of the dressmaker.

"Fabulous." He said and laid his napkin on the table.  "Please do show him and his staff inside." He stood and looked at me.  "Please prepare."

"I will prepare in own quarters." I stood.

"That won't be necessary as the king will be giving his own approval." He gave me a smug smile.

"You will not be inappropriate!  The king will not insult me as to undress in his presence!" I raised my voice as he walked over and grabbed my arm.

"You will not insult me in front of my men, my court or in private." He is seething with anger.

"Dining in your chambers was inappropriate enough, your majesty.  Do not insult me more today." I glared into his eyes and stood tall as he is most likely bruising my arm.

"You will prepare and not forget where you stand, your highness.  I am king and you will not forget that, do you understand?" He growls angrily as he glares right back.  "This is the dressmaker that will be fitting my court and I will be making the decision what is suitable."

I couldn't look at him any longer and turned away. 

"That's what I thought." He let go of my arm just as a man with several women walked inside with several trunks.

Everything happened so quickly and his royal highness was sitting back enjoying my mortification as I am measured then thrown in one dress after another. 

"Without so many ruffles.  Her natural beauty should not be outshined by the dress.  Don't you agree?" He looks at the only other man in the room.  I know for a fact, unless he studied in Paris, this dressmaker is not accustomed to being in the room as the woman is undressed.  This would be why he brought his help.

"I do agree, sir.  She does take quite well to lace." He studied me.

"Less poof and more lace?" I was shocked.

"Yes, you would also find it much more comfortable." He said.

He slipped me into another sample and my dress was still full but less which I find refreshing.  Slowly I became more comfortable with the King's presence as he watched on.

"Perhaps we could fancy her face for a more realistic version?" The man asked but the King stared at me before speaking.  He is speaking of painting my face.

"No, my vision for my palace is not one of the typical French styles.  Many are Highlanders and that style does no justice for a Celtic woman.  I want to see the ladies of the court show their natural beauty." He said.

I locked eyes with the king.  "So all of your servants have natural beauty?"

He smirked.  "All women have their own beauty to shine upon us." He sits in his chair with one leg crossed over the other and his head rests against two fingers.  He looks relaxed which is right where I want him so I smiled and looked away.  It makes me sick to be cordial but I have no choice if I want to gain his trust.

"I believe her marital dress should also be of lace." The man said and my eyes shot up at the king.

"My marital dress?"

The king shifted.  "As I said, your fate is still being decided." He looked at the man.  "We will worry about that if the time comes."

The man nodded and started to untie the back of my dress. 

"Do you have any samples of Celtic green fabric?" The King asked and the man stopped what he was doing to pull fabric from his trunk.

"Please do hold it up to her." The king said and the man did as he was told.

"Yes, I want dresses of that color and our plaid on some." The king stood up and approached.  "Our plaid will compliment your skin tone." He then looked at the dressmaker.  "I want no less than ten for the Princess and I'll have measurements taken for the handmaids.  They can wear our plaid."

He walked around me and his eyes on me made me feel ill.  Suddenly I felt the ties on the back loosen.  "She should own enough undergarments to to be fresh daily, including the corset."

The hatred I feel for him in this moment courses through my veins like poison. 

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