Chapter 5 Leoria

"Darling, we have guests, are you changed?" Leoria's mother calls from downstairs. Leoria has only just begun lacing her corset, and her mother thinks she's done dressing?

"I'll be right there, mother!" she calls, hurrying to sit down so that her maid can dress her hair. "Simple, simple, simple," she says, patting a whisper of rouge on her lips. No one will see the color, for her mother would claw down with her spiny hands and command her to wash her face. Her mother is always saying this and that about "vain women" and how "silly" they are. Leoria has never really thought about fashionable ladies, other than when she thinks of her mother's sentiments. The dress her mother chose for today clings to Leoria like spiderwebs and looks like it's over a century old, with back pleating and elbow length sleeves to match. She looks like she's walked out of an 18th century parade, with a slim crinoline underneath her skirt making the only difference. Besides the horrendously made curtain gown her mother chose, Leoria drapes a shawl over her shoulders to cover it.

"We're inside, dear, take that shawl off," mother commands as Leoria makes her way down the stairs to the sitting room. Leoria grumbles and hands the shawl to a hall boy before racing to the other side of the sitting room to meet the Cronies.

"You must be Duchess Leoria, it's a pleasure to meet you," Lady Cronies greets. The elder Cronies woman has a kind, warm face and golden hair which she's coiled in the most unique way. Leoria nods, shaking her hand and sitting on the seat next to her.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the famous Cronies, his majesty speaks of nothing but you," Leoria says, taking a bite of a lemon bar the butler must have left on the coffee table hours ago. As she bites down, her taste buds cry with instant regret, and she chokes it down with repulsion.

"Ooh! I haven't had lemon bars in ages, I'll have one," the younger Lady Cronies smiles and takes a bite, as both Leoria and her mother cry out simultaneously,

"No!" But it is too late, for Lady Cronies has already gone through the torture that is stale lemon bars. Lord Cronies' laugh caws from the chess table he's sitting at with the youngest Cronies daughter.

"What spiteful humor you have, love," Lady Cronies says in a sweet, yet still grumbly tone. Leoria giggles to that, gulping down a huge swaff of tea to wash down the horrendous aroma of the lemon bars. Although, she straightens her posture and face when she spots her mother staring daggers at her. A grandfather clock ticks, the only thing making noise in the room besides the soft movements of chess pieces.

"I hear you're engaged, Lady Cronies," Leoria says to break the silence. Lady Cronies smiles and nods, but doesn't respond, just staring at her hands, at her ring in particular.

"Leoria is dearly familiar with his majesty, I heard that younger Lady Cronies was too, was she not?" Leoria's mother asks between sips of tea.

"Yes, he and she were actua-" the elder Lady Cronies began.

"Mere acquaintances for a very short time, that's all," Marrianne Cronies interrupts with a sense of urgency. "Just acquaintances," she finishes.

"Would anyone like to venture into this nice spring air?" Leoria asks. She's desperate to get out of the stuffy, frozen air that the house brings.

"I don't like the out of doors, I'm afraid I'll catch hay fever with all the flowers out," the elder Lady Cronies replies before walking up the stairs to her room.

"I'd love to go outside, but I'm afraid your father needs someone to stay with him, dearest," her mother says. She then also heads upstairs to Leoria's father's sick room. Her father had been better for a time, but the spring brought up all of his illnesses back. Leoria searched the room, pleading with her eyes for someone to walk with her. Lord Cronies and the youngest Lady Cronies said they would like to continue their game, and the two younger Cronies boys said they would come only if their older sister did.

"Well-I," Lady Marrianne began. She stares at her brothers with golden eyes, her mane of red hair has been combed and styled similarly to her mother's, and she picks at a pin at the back of her head before speaking. "Well, I–alright, I'll come."