Amnicity paid little mind to High General Lessure in the following days. She became preoccupied with deciding upon dresses and nodding at the appropriate interval during Lady Elry's lessons. Any thought concerning James dissipated amongst the trying preparations for her journey north.
The princess did not realize how stressful it would be to pick an acceptable attire and retain enough knowledge to be deemed witty but not threateningly knowledgable. There were too many choices and possibilities that left her uncertain of herself. How long should she remain conversing with someone without venturing on insult or unintended favor? What topics should she avoid? What would her answer be regarding political matters such as trade or skirmishes? Amnicity could feel her eyebrows wrinkling together in tension just reflecting upon the matters.
The excitement and trepidation increased when Amnicity learned her mother would no longer be accompanying her. Instead, Ladies Toria and Lady Elry would be her escorts, and High General Lessure her protector.
Only at that moment did Amnicity realize her annoyance with James had passed. She felt excited at the prospect of him seeing her figure in the dresses Lady Toria perfected. Amnicity would be able to show all angles of her worth on this trip.
"Be certain that those dresses are packed properly, Marie," Amnicity ordered, standing in front of the mirror, adjusting her cap.
"Do not doubt me now, Princess."
Amnicity sighed in response, turning to her maid. "You should know better than to think that I would ever doubt you."
Marie snorted slightly.
"Your disrespect is noted." Amnicity huffed in a teasing tone
"How shall I survive?" Marie swooned.
"By not wrinkling my dresses," her young charge muttered.
A swift knock upon Amnicity's door held Marie's tongue.
"You may enter," Amnicity called.
"Princess." The messenger bowed. "King Valander wishes to see you in his study before you depart."
"Very well." Amnicity nodded. "Marie, my gloves."
Amnicity left before she made eye contact with Marie. It would betray more emotion than she wished to process on a day of such monumental glory. But, Marie could shed a few tears... as long as they did not fall on her gowns. That would be a travesty. Marie could cry on her slippers, though. The folds of her dress would cover them, and so they were of less concern.
"Do you wish to be announced, Princess Amnicity?" the guard outside King Valander's study queried.
Amnicity started on being pulled from her wardrobe revelry.
"No, that will not be necessary," she muttered. She did not have time for such formality today.
Amnicity entered the room filled with glory only to have the breath deflate quickly. Her mother stood beside her father's chair, leaning over him to review papers on his desk. Both of their foreheads were creased, and their wine glasses remained forgotten near the anterior edge.
"Are you sure that is all we can send?" Christaline questioned, reviewing a paper when Amnicity entered.
"According to the High Generals Council, it is," Valander responded, writing upon another paper. "Henry, did we confirm Guard Praven would accompany Christa?"
"Yes, Queen Chritlaine will be accompanied by Guard Praven and nineteen other guards he has chosen," Henry confirmed.
"Twenty guards," Christaline smirked. "Oh, you do care for me." The tone in her voice contained tenderness and something else Amnicity could not place.
YOU ARE READING
The Dragonfly and The Sword
Historical FictionBook 1 in the Eirlund series Princess Amnicity of Vetus is to debut on her 18th birthday. Her grand ideals are dashed when representatives from the royal families of Preena and Jude attend. The tension between Vetus and Jude has risen since the ra...
