Living in royalty can't be so bad, right? But... what if you're not technically royal?
*****
In late eighteenth century Europe, nestled in eastern France, is a peaceful kingdom called Totresia. A carriage wreck disturbs that peace when found by Totr...
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"A family dinner, son, does that not please you?"
Didit please him? Antoine wasn't sure. Father was often absent the past few years, but less so since Jules' birth two months ago. Yet they hadn't had a family dinner in a while.
The more he thought of it, Antoine realized he didn't love such events.
He much preferred his private suppers with Marguerite and their chaperones, or alone with his butler. When all were present, he had to suffer through Sébastien's fussing with his food, to endure Mother's pointed comments, and to tolerate his father's business talk, all while gazing across the table at his best friend that he couldn't sit next to.
His parents didn't allow him to visit with her today. Clémentine claimed Marguerite had ladylike duties to attend, to welcome new ladies to court and entertain them in the Solar. Antoine hated the Solar, but he respected Marguerite too much to tell her such things. She'd agree with anything he said, and he'd hate to ruin her proximity with the Queen.
Today, King Edouard allowed him to observe an advisory meeting. That was a mistake; try as he might to comprehend all the technical terms and fancy words they used, he had no clue what these men talked about.
"We must not stop the search, Sire," said one gentleman, prompting Antoine to wonder what they searched for.
"They continue to send letters to request your presence, Your Majesty," said another, making Antoine realize his father would soon depart for one more trip away from Torrinni.
He tried to understand, he did; a King had to travel to meet with other nobles, farmers, beggars, sometimes foreign dignitaries. But did Edouard have to leave Torrinni so much? Whenever he did, all the remaining men considered Antoine the man of the house but discussed nothing of importance with him. They spoke in codes—mentioning matters like this or that lady whom they found canoodling in the Reading Room after hours; or claiming the Queen's temper flared to astronomical levels.
What does astronomical even mean?
"It is obvious what that signifies," a younger man said, a boy in elegant clothes with stunted legs and a hunched spine. Antoine didn't like him. But as Crown Prince of Totresia he couldn't express his disdain for anyone, since it wasn't proper. He studied his lessons with care—a good Prince or King wasn't to abuse his position and dislike men due to their appearances.
One must judge by their valor.
Antoine arrived at the Dining Room first. He'd take the spot to Edouard's left, and Marguerite to Clémentine's right. Marguerite hadn't turned up yet, and he was alone, barely tall enough to gape at the ebony candles in copper holders, placed on the massive mahogany table concealed beneath fine silk linens.
The doors blasted open, and Antoine whipped his neck to his left to see King Edouard strolling in, for once sans his ruby-encrusted crown. He pivoted, muttered something to his horde of advisors and associates that always followed him around, then continued his route, his timid squire at his heels. Only once he reached the halfway mark inside the room did he notice his eldest son.
