Ave Marianne

Ave Marianne

Dusk. The moments before the day passes out from blood loss. The tapestry’s colours brought to life in the deathly glow. The sun is dying, its last pathetic rays sending scatters of tiny rainbows through the crystal chandeliers. Candles twinkle like stars around the room, casting shadows over the beautiful faces that float through the ballroom. Waiting hangs in the air. As an ancient rule the royal court never dance until nightfall. Daylight was for work and darkness for pleasure. Tender glances and jealous glares flash momentarily between faces. Lace gloved hands brushing, secret smiles thrown to each other, a gentle touch when no one is looking so well timed it seems only to be an accidental stumble. The royal court for all its brains and etiquette is a hotbed of passionate devouring love and adultery. Over the noise of the orchestra tuning their instruments sounds an almost silent symphony. Hushed heavy breathing, the soft rustle of ball gowns, footsteps tapping on the oak floor and whispers; from lover to lover, friend to friend, brother to sister, enemy to foe. Accompanied by an ostinato of hurried heartbeats the waiting continues.

The young Prince has taken a lover. Whispered to be the most beautiful woman in her country. Tonight she shall be presented to the royal court as his fiancée. As the time ticks closer the whole court waits at the foot of the grand staircase with baited breath. If she is anything like the Prince’s previous lovers they will be faced with a coarse, ill mannered and slightly too large harlot. Some wait to be amused by his folly while others pray he will not make a mockery of the court. Carvello Watson the King’s advisor takes the fateful steps down to the head of the staircase. In his mind he prays madly that this one will be the one. He announces the Prince in his loud authoritive voice and watches as hundreds of heads instantly bow. “You too advisor” someone suddenly says mockingly in his ear. Nearly jumping out of his skin Carvello bows to the young Prince who had quietly crept up behind him. Down below the royal court chuckles with muffled laughter, Carvello blushes scarlet and makes his way down the staircase to his place amongst his fellows. Still amused by the Prince’s joke.

“My much beloved court” shouts the Prince instantly catching their attention, “I present to thee my future bride. Lady Marianne Del Cova of A`dair”. With this he gestures to the side of the smaller staircase leading down to the main one. Through their eyelashes the royal court peeks, desperate to get a glance. The silk curtains at the top of the smaller staircase are gently drawn apart. The court gasps. Small and childlike with hair the colour of freshly drawn blood Lady Marianne descends the stairs. The skirt of her deep burgundy dress pools around the steps as she walks slowly down. She is the essence of beauty. Her face prettier than any angel could ever boast and her eyes of emerald green like beads of jade resting on snow. But her lips, Oh such fine lips one never did see! Mauve Taupe and shaped like a full heart. It seemed a crime to sully her face with mere human glances.

From two velvet carpeted steps below The young Prince grinned mischievously. Never had he seen his fiancée look so radiant and never had the court been so silent. Gently taking her delicate hand they began to ascend the great staircase. The royal court went almost wild with claps and cheers. It is nearly deafening. Over the din the Prince squeezes his fiancée’s hand. “Not too nervous I hope?” he asks softly in her ear,
“A little I suppose” she smiles back. Then, Pulling the prince down to whisper in his ear Marianne giggles nervously, “Just don’t ask me to dance anything to fast. The apples might fall out then there would be a scandal!”
“Of course, until your sister is found we must be cautious” nodded the Prince with a smile. They had reached the foot of the stairs by now and were gliding towards the polished dance floor. Taking up their positions the royal court prepared to dance. “Oh. One more thing” Marianne says,
“Yes my Princess?” asks the Prince inwardly laughing at his fiancées embarrassed blushes. “Don’t try anything funny!” she glares seriously. The Prince just laughs and pulls his supposed fiancée closer. “My lord Benjamin I would never dream of such a thing”. Benjamin grimaces at the Prince’s weird expression, and inwardly he prayed with all his heart that his sister will be found soon.