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P2 Chapter 12

  The house servants were in chaos. In all her years, Head Mistress Alicia Renaux had never had to host such a guest. A Grande Prince no less! She couldn’t walk fast enough to reach the dining hall at the other end of the spacious Synod Hall.

  Her eyes grazed the table, looking for any imperfections in the centerpiece of flowers and ancient vases from a distant land. She wanted to reflect the wealth and prestige of the House Strasse. Gilded walls and statues flowed past her between marble columns. Guards in red tabards over brandished cuirasses and helmets of plumed red feathers straightened at her passing. A stern correction to one with a crooked helmet made her glance at the pinning of her own, grey-streaked hair in the reflection of the many tall windows. She kept her hands folded together at the lining of her red and gold gilded bodice, where her matching skirt was pinned and looped back to reveal the silver lined brown petticoat.

  We must look our part for when he arrives. We must have everything just right.

  “Too many grapevines and not enough lilies. You, what are you doing with that? No, no, no, this fork here, that fork there! Straighten up, you’re not some village nightwatchman, you’re a proper Palais Rohan guard. Look like it. Confound it, girl, can you not arrange a tablecloth? The fold is at the corners. You, show this one how to fold properly.” Alicia went from one to the next, overlooking her charges’ works. Flowers were being arranged, tables set with decorations, chairs and stands polished.

  Once she neared the door to the servant halls, she spun around and held her hands up as if to praise the Almighty, “We are the first to host our new Grande Prince. This is a great honor and historical moment for our House. I expect each and every one of you to act accordingly. Remember your place, be ever watchful and ready, and keep your mouths shut. You are to be unseen and unneeded. Anything short of that will not be tolerated.” She let her arms drop as she eyed the many faces of the palais. She was sure one or two had something to say and waited, but none made a peep. She nodded and went through the door into the servant passageways.

  The steward, Valmond Dessinateur, was leaning over a ledger when Alicia arrived in the administrator’s office. His long hair was tied neatly back from his ears, infuriatingly less gray than hers though he was nearly ten years her senior. A pair of round glasses balanced on the edge of his wide nose.

  “I see you’re keeping yourself busy,” Alicia shut the door loud enough to make him jump upright and frown at her. Her only change in expression was the cocking of her brow at him. “Well? Find anything?”

  Valmond frowned at her and returned to reading the ledger with a tip of his glasses. “Not that I can see. There are no records of there ever being a noble by the name of Luminis in Alsace, Lorraine, France, or Germany. To be honest, none in Utrecht and the Netherlands, either. Seems that the family host must be from elsewhere.”

  “He’s a Grande Prince, there must be something!” She shoved against him to read for herself. “Coat of arms, crest, something.”

  “Nothing,” Valmond shook his head and straightened. She flipped the pages, running her finger down the guest names. “I suppose the Baronnie banners will have to suffice.”

  “But that would break etiquette,” Alicia shut the ledger and tapped her nose thoughtfully. “It would be better that we display the Utrecht banners than to display only the von Strasse sigils. Unless—what if we used the old fleur-des-lis banner?”

  “From before the Great Fires? Don’t be ridiculous,” Valmond took the ledger from her and put it on the shelf. “I doubt we have enough of them for the hall anyway. And, before you ask, yes, I had more goat cheese and cake flour brought to the kitchens. You truly should keep better track of such things.”

  “Oh?” Alicia only tucked her hands on her bodice again and regarded him with a slight frown. “I suppose I waited too long to place that order, even if it was a month in advance. I suppose now, before it arrives, I must mention that we will need another thirty wheels of goat cheese in three months.” She tapped his shoulder, “Perhaps you’ll get them to us on time this go round.”

  “Perhaps,” he said with his nose upward as she went for the door.

  How he was able to become the steward of the estate would forever baffle her, but that was the way of things. As Alicia rushed past the doors to the apartments, she ran her fingers along the edges of the rails and under the ornate frames of the ancient paintings. When she found dust on one, she snapped her fingers for the nearest staffer and directed them to it. Be a cold day in hell before she ever saw Valmond do as much. All she ever saw him do was walk here and there, talking to the merchants and dignitaries. Taking bribes, most likely. If she were the steward, having to keep account of the treasury and the wares, she would certainly take bribes and do favors for the wealthy and powerful that passed through from the eastern realms. Why wouldn’t she? That was the way of the nobles. That was how they kept their power. Bribes and favors. Thankfully, that wasn’t her place. It was his. One less thing for her to worry about.

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  She was glad to find the Baroness already dressing after a bath when she went into the apartment. She curtsied hurriedly and went to help the girls dressing her. “Good morning, Baroness.”

  “Oh, good,” Baroness Clarissa turned, making her seamstress and hairdresser nearly fall over to keep their pinning intact. Her arms were stretched outward with sleeves that ballooned from her wrists and tucked into the straps of her own silver and gold laced bodice of red and blue embroidery. Her skirt, unlike Alicia’s, had a hoop to spread it about her so that she looked to be walking on a blue and gold cloud. “I thought of the most brilliant solution to our Grande Prince’s disastrous problem.”

  “What problem is that, my Lady?” Alicia stepped up onto a stool beside her and put a pin in her teeth. She fixed Clarissa’s braided hair on the left side with skillful precision. It had to frame her temple and combine into a triple braid with the other side down her back. That was the style of the Holy Lands.

  “Why, his coronation!” Clarissa looked sideways at herself in the mirror. She seemed pleased. “I think we should host it here. This was an imperial palace once, was it not? I think it would be far better than the cathedral.”

  Alicia was a breath away from disagreeing when Clarissa turned to her. Her seamstress lunged nearly to the ground to keep her skirt from falling out of its pinning. There was a desperate look in the poor girl’s face. Alicia kept from reacting where Clarissa could see.

  “Think of it! Ours is the only true noble house in Alcalia now,” Clarissa beamed at her. “We’d have the stage built in the Synod Hall, but against the windows so the sun shown down on him just as the Cardinal placed the crown on his head…have the little ones in the rafters with baskets of petals to toss over them. And that Florentine could paint a portrait of it to replace that one of Napoleon and the pope.”

  The last thing Alicia would ever do would be to put children in the rafters to throw flower petals. She needed to bring her baroness back to reality.

  Clarissa looked herself over in the mirror. She pinched her cheeks. “I like this color for a base, but I think my cheeks need to be a little lighter. I want them to look high and wide like the Holy Queen’s.”

  “Of course, my Lady,” Alicia snapped her fingers for the maid. To the Baroness, “Perhaps we should wait and see how agreeable this new prince is. We have no way of knowing what sort of man he is, let alone whether he would want us to host his coronation. He might prefer to do it in Saint Martin’s in Utrecht instead. You never know.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Clarissa snapped. She leaned her head back for the girl to spread lighter cream over the curves of her cheeks. “Of course he will do it here. If not in du Rhin, then certainly in the cathedral. It is far superior to Saint Martin’s in every way. Plus,” she tapped the girl doing her makeup away before swaying in front of the mirror, “We have a Cardinal and a Bishop. There’s no contest. I’m sure of it.”

  “Quite right,” Alicia stepped down from the stool. “I have the same mind. Allow me to show you.”

  Baroness Clarissa held her hand to one side for Alicia to take it and guide her through the long corridors into the hall where everything was nearly ready. There was no doubt in her mind that her Baroness would be pleased. If she intended a coronation for their Grande Prince, for their true king, then she would make it so that no one in their right mind would disagree.

  As they emerged into the Reception Hall, Alicia felt taller than ever. She couldn’t wait to see her Baroness’s surprise and awe at how well she had done with the preparations.

  “Are you out of your bloody minds? Put all that away! What are you trying to do? Have him evict us so he can live here?”

  Alicia wanted to scream long before she found Baron Christophe in the Hall, using the table cloth as a bag to carry all of the table settings and pieces. He handed it to a guard and shouted with pointing fingers. “Tear that down. Get rid of that! We have only a few hours. What is this—grapes and flowers? What are we, wine makers now? Take them away.”

  “Dear husband,” Clarissa left Alicia fuming on the verge of tears behind her.

  “My love!” The Baron smiled in complete contrast to how he had been yelling at the staff as his wife went to embrace him.

  All that work, all the preparation, the planning, ruined! All of it for nothing! Weeks of planning and he just—he just—took it away! The fires of hell are not warm enough for that man.

  Valmond stood beside her. “I believe there is an issue in the pantry that needs attending.”

  Alicia nodded stiffly and spun on her heels. There was no point in fighting it. As always, the Baron would get his way and she would have to stomach it. Why did her beloved Baroness need to fall for someone so detestable and uncivilized as that man?

  Before the door shut behind her, she caught Valmond’s subtle bow to her. She would thank him later.

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