Circa 268 n.t.
Nasalia, Semana
Illette pulled the hood of her fur-lined cloak back from her face and let the frosty air tickle her eyelashes. She took in a deep and refreshing breath and then smiled contentedly. Winter had always been her favorite season, and the peaceful snow covered scene around her could not have been more perfect.
The branches of the quiet pines behind her slightly sagged beneath the thick layer of snow that covered them. Any time a slight breeze would waft past, thousands of tiny snowflakes would leap off the branches and flutter to the ground in a graceful dance.
Above her, pillow-like clouds floated slowly through the clear, crisp, blue sky. And ahead of her, the edge of a cliff dropped off, exposing a breathtaking view of the lowlands below. The entire scene, in every direction, was covered by the delicate blanket of clean, white snow. Shades of chill-blue shared the landscape where shadows hid the ground from the sky.
Illette untied the velvet ribbon that held her soft white cloak in place, and let it slide off her shoulders and fall to the ground. The rich maroon dress she wore still kept her warm enough for the time being. Besides, she didn't mind the cold.
She brought her arms up at her sides and began to twirl around, allowing her mind to lose itself in the memories of her childhood. Around and around she danced. She began to laugh, caught up in the serenity of the moment.
On one of her turns she caught sight of a man on a horse approaching her and she ceased her play.
"Illette?" A tall, broad shouldered man dressed in a thick bear fur, dismounted and strode over to fetch her cloak. "Have you lost your good senses, my child? Put this back on before the cold overcomes you."
Illette obediently turned around and allowed her father, the Count-Palatine Koenraad, to place the cloak back on her shoulders. He mumbled deeply as she retied the ribbon, "...Prancing around in the snow as though you were a child..."
Illette turned back around to face him, and smiled. "I don't know what came over me."
"I do," he replied, and then looked out at the quiet expanse below them. "Winter. You have always loved it so."
"Would you change it about me?" Illette's voice had a smooth tone that was very calming.
Her father reached a hand up to gently run the back of his fingers down one of Illette's auburn locks. "I would change nothing about you, my sweet child."
She laughed. "I am your favorite, aren't I. Admit it!"
He smiled and placed a finger in front of his lips. "Sshh. Tell no one."
Illette turned her head slightly, then, and took in a deep breath. "Do you smell the evergreens, Father? Though covered with snow, the scent escapes still. And this crisp air heightens its distinctness."
Koenraad took a moment to enjoy the silence with his daughter. Then he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and strode back toward his large charger. "I was sent to remind you of the festivities forth coming." He mounted the tall, black stallion. "Your mother would like your help with preparations."
Illette rolled her eyes. "Must I attend?"
"Your constant desire for solitude is unhealthy."
"Solitude has its benefits. But it is not that at all. It is the guest list."
Koenraad's brow furrowed. "The guest list? What is wrong with the guest list?"
"Nothing, but that the names on it make me ill."
"Daughter..." Koenraad scolded. "Do not speak so disgracefully of the members of our class."
Illette sighed and turned around to face the cliff's edge. "Being born into that society wasn't my choice. I would much prefer to have a gala in Ruud."
The Count-Palatine laughed. It was a rich sound that came from deep within his broad belly. "Please do not repeat that near your mother."
Illette spun back around. "But it is true, father. The people down in Ruud, that mother considers so beneath her, are of much greater worth than any of the pompous fools that-"
"Illette!" Koenraad interupted sternly. "It is improper for you to speak in that manner, and I will have no more of it."
She responded to his scolding by looking down at the ground.
Koenraad relaxed his stern expression. "It is a sad truth, my child, but we each have our place in life. Do not fight against yours."
"Yes, father."
"Will you then promise me that you will help your mother with preparations, and also be in attendance at the festivities?"
She nodded.
"Good. Thank you. That is much more becoming of you." He then looked around to find her horse. After he found none, he looked at her in confusion. "Don't tell me that you walked here."
"I did," she responded.
He shook his head. "You are incorrigible, Illette." He then beckoned for her to come to him. "Climb up here with me, then. I will take you back."
"No, father. Thank you, though. I just really would prefer to walk."
Koenraad decided not to push his offer. He nodded in farewell and then turned his charger around. But then he turned back around. "Oh... I nearly forgot. Not that it is a matter of importance... I just thought I would warn you."
"Warn me?"
"Guess whose name just got added to the list you are so fond of."
His daughter shrugged. "I am sure I have no idea."
"Do you remember Druson Madoc?"
Illette stood absolutely still, and her mood turned immediately sour. "Druson Madoc? ...Druson Madoc, the arrogant bully? Druson Madoc, the Rogue of Maerdyn? Druson Madoc, the Blackguard?"
"I thought you would recognize the name."
"When did he get back?" She stomped one foot furiously on the ground. "How did he get back? Shouldn't he have died in battle, or something?"
Koenraad motioned for her to calm down. "Illette, tame your voice. The Trefor's of Maerdyn will soon be able to hear you, if you keep on as you are."
"Aaah!" Illette clenched her fists and stomped again. "I hate Druson Madoc!" She pointed an accusing finger at her father. "And you, knowingly, still made me promise to attend?" She dropped her hand and clenched it into a fist again. "I won't go. I am sorry father, to have to dishonor myself by breaking my promise, but I absolutely will not go."
"Now, Illette, I liked that young man no more than you. He was always looking for trouble, and if I remember correctly, he teased you mercilessly. But that was near four years ago now. He is returning to us with title and land."
"He had a title before he left! Two actually! They were Imbecile and Miscreant!"
"Well, the only title you will be concerned with tonight is Guest," her father retorted. "As I said, I have no care for him, either. But we will act our place, and do so with dignity. Do you understand me, Illette?" He then reiterated by saying, “Our beloved home, Fionn-arleen, has ne’er had a black mark on its honor. And I will not have a daughter of mine ruining that reputation in one night by stabbing a guest at a ball!”
-----
Later that evening, following the preparations, Illette stood at the window in her chambers and stared out at the darkening landscape below. She was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder.
“Mi’lady,” her handmaiden, Nola, said gently. “It is time to go down to the Hall.”
“Already?” Illette sighed and turned away from the window. She then looked at her handmaiden seriously. “I hope you aren’t going to be referring to me as mi’lady all evening.”
“I must. Your mother would be furious if I called you by name in front of the other nobles.” Nola then smiled comfortingly. “Relax. The night will not go on forever.”
“Well, we’re about to find out.”
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
