The Lady Justice

Chapter I : To Break, And Be Broken

Lady Katherine Harrington of Johanne

13 September, Year 32 of King Frederick V of Monrique's reign

Bordeux Castle, Bordeux

Monrique

"You look beautiful, Kat."

One of my best friends, Lady Alyssa Hale, Countess Consort of Warwick, smiled softly at my reflection in the looking-glass. She adjusted a few brunette curls that had escaped my headdress, before squeezing my shoulders with a soft sigh.

I chuckled, winking at her. "I know."

Indeed, I was well aware that I was attractive. My smooth, healthily bronzed skin and my round, grey eyes were the envy of many of the ladies at the royal court, and my curves were more than able to make any man look twice at me.

However, during the time I had formally trained as an Archery Mistress in the army, I had been taught to give no importance and form no attachment to my physical beauty – this fleeting, physical beauty that could be easily destroyed in a battle. Today was the first time in several months that I was wearing a gown that was not my army robes, rouge that was not used for camouflage, and accessories that were not my bow and arrow.

But then again, today was no ordinary day.

Lisa simply rolled her eyes. "You are most welcome," she muttered dryly, "we need one more thing, and you will be ready. Jules?" She called the last of our trio, who was seated across us.

No answer.

Lisa did not look up. "Jules?" she tried again louder instead, still working on my curls, "give me the box, please."

Still no answer.

This time, Lisa craned her neck, frowning in bewilderment. When her gaze landed on our best friend, however, her frown gave way to an even darker scowl.

The said best friend, Crown Princess Consort Juliette Seymour of Monrique, was immersed in II Principe, by Niccolò Machiavelli, comfortably inclined on the armchair yonder. Her soft, brown eyes seemed to absorb each word on the parchment, with equal parts shock and wonder, as she held her book with one hand, and unconsciously cradled her swollen belly with the other.

A pop of laughter left my lips, as Lisa stormed towards her and snatched her book out of her hands none too gently. "You are incorrigible!" she scolded in exasperation, "how many times must I tell you not to read books of such nature when you are with child?"

The latter blinked, startled for a moment. She had been so deeply involved in the book, that she found it difficult to return to the present world.

When she realised what had happened, however, her lips turned down into a sulk – an all too common occurrence during her pregnancy.

"Lisa, I have nothing else to do," Jules complained, "Her Majesty has confiscated all of my favourite novels, and I have not walked out of the Castle grounds in weeks in the name of confinement. Come now, do not vex me further and return my book." She held out her hand expectantly.

Lisa did not budge. "The Queen confiscated them for good reason," she argued, "reading immoral texts will give rise to immoral thoughts, and they may affect the child – "

Before she could finish, I had pulled the book out of her grasp. "If the child is affected, it is only because you have upset its poor mother during her confinement," I pointed out, "here you go, Jules. And turn that frown upside down."

I handed Jules her book, who took it from me with a large beam on her face, all annoyance forgotten in an instant. She then stuck out her tongue at Lisa, who simply rolled her eyes.