Violant’s days following her rescue of Prince Wynkin were nothing out of the ordinary. Avallach was the same as ever, although only locals would regard the margraviate’s capital as something normal for it was likely the most extraordinary place in the whole kingdom.

The returnee furthered her studies, both fancied and unloved ones, helped out with the margravial management and also managed to find some time to visit her friends.

At the moment, it was a day in early May, she was preoccupied with embroidery under Lady Alse’s hawk-eyed supervision.

“No, no, Milady!” the governess sighed, her amber eyes looking sternly at her student. Lady Alse resembled a reputable matron due to her wearing her straw blonde hair strictly tied up in an unadorned bun and wearing a long black dress with a high collar. Combined with her stern countenance only rarely showing the hint of a smile, she appeared more like an embittered widow in her sixties rather than the unwed 36 years old woman she actually was. But her strictness couldn’t be held against her when faced with such difficult students like Violant or – even worse – Parcie.

“At this point it is necessary to use cross stitch, Milady. I am sure I have demonstrated you how to do so.”

The governess’s student flashed an apologetic smile. She was simply extremely bad when it came to embroidery. Even comparing the needle with the spear she had used to weave bloody lines in the cloth of the battlefield during the civil war was useless. Analogies didn’t help her getting any better. The most problematic point was that noble ladies were expected to personally embroider the textiles forming a part of their dowries, and Violant was no exception of course. In her last lifetime it ultimately didn’t matter because she had married Gervase without any dowry after falling out with her family. This time around she had absolutely no ambitions of renouncing her family ties though. Thus, the embroidery problem was as pressing as ever, especially as her social debut was fast approaching and hence also her marriageable age.

The door opened and head butler Lawrence entered. The simply impeccable middle-aged black-haired man shortly bowed and then he reported: “Lord Orderic wishes to speak to you without any delay, Lady Violant. He is currently expecting you in his study.” Afterwards he directly left again. Head butler was an incredibly busy position after all.

“Oh.” was Violant’s first reaction. Then she stood up, curtsied to the governess, and spoke: “You have heard Mr. Lawrence. If my father is urgently expecting me then it won’t do to let him wait any longer. I am truly sorry that we have to cut short our embroidery lesson but such matters better are not left unattended for long.”

Lady Alse watched her student leaving and shook her head. She thought: I know as well as you do, Milady, that you are actually far from being sorry but in light of the circumstances you will be pardoned nonetheless.

Then she sat down to continue embroidering the piece Violant had worked on before. She often did so because it hurt her heart thinking about the state the young lady’s dowry would be in if she didn’t secretly help out from time to time. As the daughter of a fallen baron house she never had even had the chance to experience a wedding befitting a baron’s rank due to having her engagement annulled after the downfall of her family. She even had been forced to sell all of her dowry just to stay alive, save only for a handkerchief embroidered with her and her fiancé’s initials. Now she would look after her protégé like the mother Violant had never known to make sure of a successful wedding ceremony as long as she remained the governess.

When Violant arrived in her foster fathers study, Orderic stood behind his desk, a letter in hand. The crimson wax seal on the parchment envelope bore the royal crest and the letter was explicitly addressed at his daughter.

“A letter has arrived for you.” the margrave said, his expression unusually grave. “I haven’t opened it yet. It is addressed to you after all. After what you have done, it should come as no surprise that you got to hear from the palace. Open the letter and see for yourself.”

The girl nodded and received the letter. Being contacted from the royal palace was nothing out of her expectations since she had saved a prince’s life after all. The handwriting on the envelope appeared quite elegant. After opening the envelope and unfolding the letter within, the young lady read it attentively. The following was written:

Honored Lady Violant,

We wish to express Our heartfelt gratitude for your selfless action of saving Our dearest son Wynkin in spite of the danger to life and limb you most likely were exposed to while treating him. Our son and his escorts have given detailed account of your unparalleled deeds. Listening to their explanations, We felt the profound wish of showing our gratitude personally. No written word can ever adequately describe Our never-ending gratitude for the miracle you have made possible. To have the chance of personally expressing Our gratitude, We would hence like to invite you to Kingsborough.

Remaining eternally grateful,

Berengaria of Ealdon

After reading it, Violant silently handed the letter to her uncle.

“This is effectively a summoning to the capital.” the margrave voiced his opinion “You don’t have much of a choice in this matter. The earlier you set out, the better. Since you never have been to the capital all your life, seeing as it is still before your social debut, it won’t do to have you go on your own. As luck will have it, Mortimer is already scheduled to travel to the capital as my proxy in a few days time. Thus we will prepone his journey and have him accompany you. Kingsborough is nothing like Avallach. It is a populous city even more bustling than our town here and it is too easy to get lost, being stolen from or to rub someone the wrong way. You better follow what Mortimer will tell you.”

Violant nodded obediently, inwardly showing a big smile. Orderic couldn’t fathom that his foster daughter knew the capital like the back of her hand. She had lived there for several years in her past lifetime after all. Nonetheless she decided to obey her foster father’s words, for he did only mean well.

Three days later, Violant turned up at the castle courtyard. The travel preparations at short notice had successfully come to an end. A carriage sporting the crest of the Avallach family – a silver cockatrice impaled by a sword on a green background – had been prepared. Not for Violant though, as she would travel riding on Huwcyn, but for Mortimer. The reason was that the designated heir of the margrave couldn’t ride, if not for is lack of physical abilities but rather from being severely disliked by horses. When asked about this, Huwcyn couldn’t find a plausible reason. He would only allow Violant on his back though.

Both siblings would be accompanied by one servant each, Mortimer by his personal butler Andrew who served as the coachman at the same time, and Violant by her silky maid Millicent. It was simply unthinkable to entrust obligations such as dressing the lady to a male servant like Malford. Just the thought alone was already improper after all.

“I wish you a good and uneventful travel, my dear children.” spoke Orderic “Mortimer, I leave Violant in your care. You already know what to do and what not to do in the capital, for Kingsborough is quite the peculiar place. Violant, don’t get too intimidated when facing the splendor of the royal palace for the first time. I know the palace appears so grand that it seems absolutely unearthly for first-timers but showing your astonishment or tension too openly means showing your weak points to those who bear ill-will against you. Courtiers are a treacherous and cunning pack, the whole lot of them. Be careful but don’t forget your pride as an Avallach.”

“Thank you, father.” the girl said with a grateful smile. Nobody knew better than her what a dangerous place the palace really was. It was a place of veneer, pretense and hypocrisy, a place appearing as beautiful as heaven itself but soon found to be rotten beyond help when you stated scratching at the surface.

“You can entrust this to me with a light heart, father.” Mortimer promised. Then he boarded the carriage while his foster sister mounted the water horse.

After waving at those gathered to watch their departure, they set out on their voyage bound for Kingsborough, the kingdom’s bustling center unparalleled in both its splendor and its wretchedness.