The Queen Will Not Last Long
In the hot summer, Marlowe felt chills in her spine, cold sweat trailing down her temple; contrary to the weather.
She was dressed in the most exquisite of dresses ever worn—the most troublesome too.
Her palms sweated buckets as she clutched hard on the sides of the gown.
Making Berkel wonder if it's possible for someone to feel both cold and hot at a time.
Because right now, the Queen was just displaying that.
She could understand that it's because of how tense she is.
In fact, since the second reminder came, she had been pacing up and down her chamber while remaining cooked up inside.
More so, Merkin kept bringing news and updates about the Queen Dowager. So Marlowe thought it wise to remain in her chambers from dawn to dusk and again.
It was safer there.
Only that nagging tutor demands her presence everyday!
But now…but now she could no longer escape her fate. It hit her right in the face and it was too late to dodge.
Berkel and the other maids had loosened the straps of her gown over and over again due to her inability to breathe. But now, they recognize that the gown had nothing to do with her suffocation.
The over-dressing did not even bother her as usual as she even found it difficult to come down to earth, from the emotional and mental cell of fright that she had let herself get caged in.
"Your Majesty?" Berkel softly uttered.
"Y—your Majesty?...Ahh!"
They both jerked this time as Berkel committed the offense of giving a tap on her stiff shoulders.
Marlowe pressed her hand on her chest as she hyperventilated. Using the other one to hold her updo braids in place with the hair pin attached to it.
"You scared me," she breathed.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Berkel whispered. "I was scared too,"
Exhaling loudly, Marlowe glimpsed at her from the vanity mirror she was facing, "I'm sorry too," she apologized for scaring the maid by her unnecessary outburst of fear.
"It's fine, Your Majesty…are you alright? I understand you're nervous, but I promise you it'll be as quick as if it never happened," Berkel placated her, seeing the discomfort in her heaving shoulders.
She was sure if she were a vampire, she'd have gone deaf by the Queen's heartbeat.
Yet her words fell on deaf ears. Nothing she said seemed to have gotten heard by Marlowe.
Berkel sighed with internal pity for the Queen's sad situation.
It's a lost cause.
Marlowe felt a knot in her stomach, even her reddish brows that appeared redder under the fluorescence, were knitted together in a tense expression.
Today was the day she dreaded the most.
'A week from now!' she remembered the statement so vividly.
She was told immediately that she'd be taken to the main hall, to officially meet the Royal family of Valcresh.
The family she now belongs to.
It made her quiver.
Her fingers immediately flew to her lips as her teeth readily welcomed them, she was nervously biting on her nails.
"Don't do that, Your Majesty," Berkel rushed to take her hand away, with a frown on her face she told Marlowe, "Your nails are to remain neat, Your Majesty. What if the King's mother sees them during dinner?"
Marlowe seemed to ponder on it, her expression taking a different—much worse form. "Thank you," she softly said to Berkel. She said it in way that actually meant, 'Thank you for saving my life,'
Seeing it all in the Queen's eyes, Berkel couldn't tame the discouraging thought in her heart. 'The Queen will not last long,'
Especially not with this attitude.
The Queens of Valcresh are ladies who hold strong grounds, who fight for what they want, brave and boastful.
Not one who cowers and trembles before everything.
As she soothed the crumblings which Marlowe's hardened grasp had caused on her bulky gown, she mentally wondered what the cold Lord was actually thinking when he picked her as the Bride and Queen to the tyrannical King.
But she could understand that even Marlowe never wanted this.
Fate sucks.
Just immediately, the door echoed with a knock, making the already stiff Marlowe want to wet her undergarment.
She flung her attention to the door with a horrid expression coating her frightened face.
It took a while, she swallowed, before stuttering, "C—come I—n,"
Her approval went unheard, swallowed by silence.
In assistance, Berkel rushed to open the door, already aware of who it might be.
"Greetings," Berkel bowed.
As expected, the Queen Dowager's ladies-in-waiting stood at the entrance of the Queen's chamber.
It appears the Queen was not at all quiet over this matter concerning the King's sudden marriage.
She only patiently awaited for the right opportunity to strike.
Which is the official dinner tonight.
Berkel moved to the side, making way for the two ladies-in-waiting to make their way in.
Meanwhile behind them, she threw Marlowe a 'sorry' look.
Marlowe immediately stood once they entered and approached her.
She watched them bow before her.
"Greetings, Your Majesty,"
Knowing fully well that she was not in the right state to respond, she nodded and was glad they didn't see through her walls.
"Her Majesty might be already informed that we'll bring you to the Royal dinner," one said, she seemed to be middle aged.
"please follow us, it'll be a pleasure to serve Her Majesty," she concluded with another bow.
Marlowe inhaled deeply, making the bones in her slim neck visible. On closer look which nobody noticed, her eyes were slightly glistening with tears.
But she can't cry now.
She wouldn't even dare!
She glanced at Berkel who nodded at her with encouragement in her eyes.
Marlowe had not realized that she had been holding that breath still.
Only till she saw the silent encouragement her maid gave, did she release it subtly with struggle—to not get the ladies-in-waiting alerted.
"Please lead the way," finally finding her voice, she said with a tight smile.
The ladies gave a nod before turning on their heels and heading for the door.
Throwing her maid one last glance with a small smile, Marlowe followed them out with her heart in her throat and a knot in her guts.
Behind the ladies, she blinked, replacing the fear that shone in her eyes, with an indecipherable look as she secretly made a plan in her mind to not waste this perfect opportunity.