Giselle could barely stand. Her limbs felt like limp noodles as she tried to replicate Madame Maeve's posture; head held high and all her weight on one elegant leg.
It wasn't that she wasn't well versed in the intricacies of Royal etiquette, after all she was the daughter of a Duke. It was more of the fact that Fabio fucked her so hard last night, even standing upright seemed like torture. And it definitely didn't help that Fabio's coarse fingers seemed to have imprinted itself deep inside her, his heavy thrusts still had a phantom feeling against her hips…
When a knock pounded on her door this morning, she couldn't even recall Fabio's words about starting etiquette class today. She'd groggily opened the door only to be met with a squirrel-faced woman with her hair in a tight low bun and a deep scowl on her face at Giselle's disheveled appearance.
It took less than a minute of deep thought to figure out what day it was and who the sour-faced woman was. Oh dear, Giselle thought, there goes my first impression as queen.
With a hasty bath, a quick shimmy into a plain cotton dress and dash of makeup, Giselle was ready to follow the woman, who introduced herself as Madame Maeve, 'the finest governess in the whole of Montegnera,' according to the robust lady. They went to the drawing room in the left wing of the palace, a private area designated for their lessons.
Now it's been hours of grueling dances; waltzes peculiar to the Royal Family including the King's favorite 'Waltz of Roses' which was rather difficult to learn. Madame Maeve's face was now perked up in a less miffed, more gravely worried manner.
"Oh dear," The woman said, shaking her head side to side, her brows knitted in a frown, "You're the black swan of your family, aren't you? Looks like I have my work cut out for me. How ever will you be ready in time for the King's ball?"
For that, Giselle had no answer. Yes she grew up practically as royalty, a daughter of the Vanderbilt household. But there was an unspoken gap between being a Duke's daughter and being bred for the Court. At most, the red-haired girl had always thought she'd simply end up as her sister's lady-in-waiting or, if she was allowed to put her education to use, a simple teacher at a kindergarten class. While Genevieve was the one that was intensively trained for life as the King's Queen, Giselle was the wild card who skipped etiquette class.
Madame Maeve pressed a button on the stereo set and a light, stirring waltz filled the empty dance room.
"Alright, from the top!"
Together, they moved back and forth to the music, with the governess yelling "One, two, three!" at intervals. Giselle tried to focus on the rhythm, on the pattern of their feet moving forward and back to the tune. This wasn't new to her; she had danced in many balls before, sometimes all night long. But, of course, it was as Madame Maeve said. She was indeed the black swan of her family. Genevieve was a much better dancer than she was. She was just better at everything… Giselle would always be second no matter what.
She tripped on air and stepped on the governess' foot.
"Ow!"
Giselle came to final stop on the bare floor, her once tamed hair now loose from its bun.
"Oh my—I'm so, so sorry.."
"A true noblewoman does NOT apologize like some sniveling servant!" the governess screeched, waving her short hands around angrily.
"Sorry…" one withering glare from the governess shut her up effectively.
Giselle stumbled to her feet, dusting off her rumpled skirt.
Madame Maeve's piercing eyes were on her the entire time, this time squinted in realization. "You're nothing like your sister, are you, child?"
The lady sputtered, her heart spiking when she espied that the governess knew.
"I-I…um.."
"Quit your yapping, girl. You and Genevieve may be identical but you're extremely different people. Who do you think taught her all she knows about royal life, hm?" she thumped her chest noisily, "Me, of course! But you—you're like a fish out of water around here. It's almost sad, very sad indeed." she said, a now thoughtful and forlorn tone to her voice. "I almost pity you."
Giselle was just about to ask the governess what she meant by that when her firm hands suddenly grasped hers tightly.
"You seem like a nice girl, Lady Giselle, but the Royal Court is anything but nice, that's for certain. It's like a predator circling its prey and you won't know of the danger until it's too late." The woman's eyes were so wide, Giselle could see the whites, "Take this lesson and every single one I teach you very seriously, child. If you don't, you risk making yourself and your family a laughingstock! Imagine a Queen whose Court does not respect, now that's a horrible thought!"
Madame Maeve stared at her with a far off look in her eyes and sighed.
"Oh Genevieve, what horrible burden have you bestowed on your innocent sister?"
She tutted, shaking her head once more, then sauntered off to the stereo box, turning it on.
"Look lively, girl! Once again from the top; and a one, and a two!…"
They resumed the Waltz of Roses, and this time, Giselle steeled herself, careful to match each step perfectly.
***
Later, Giselle left the drawing room for a quick lunch break already served and waiting in her quarters. The servant that served her worked quickly, not even looking her in the eye, as if eager to leave the room as fast as possible. Giselle wondered if it was Fabio who ordered them to do so. She wouldn't put it past him; her 'husband' seemed very averse to accepting her as his wife, much less his fated mate.
Giselle enjoyed lunch nonetheless; all her life she had never wanted for good food but everything at the palace seemed to be a thousand times better than anything she'd ever experienced.
She ate quickly, suddenly looking forward to etiquette class. Madame Maeve wasn't that bad, in fact it seemed that the squirrel-faced woman had finally warmed up to her. Leaving her quarters, she made her way down the hallway and up the spacious corridor that led to the leftwing. It was like a wide bridge with greenery suspended overhead and the golden afternoon sun bearing down from above. Only one or two servants tittered to and fro, most barely paying her any attention.
Up ahead, however, was a young noblewoman holding a parasol above her head to match her pastel blue, flowery dress. Walking beside her were two other women, all similarly dressed in pastels to match the summertime. The woman was easily the leader of the bunch—she looked regal and reserved enough that Giselle didn't mind nodding her way in greeting. But then the lady stopped and looked at her.
"You there! Servant girl!" she called, beckoning with her hand.
Giselle was almost certain that she was pointing at her but decided to pay no mind. Maybe she was mistaken.
"I'm talking to you, girl!" The woman called again, impatiently snapping her fingers at her.
Confused and a bit embarrassed to be labeled as a common servant, Giselle still hesitated. It wasn't until the woman marched towards her, the parasol was a halo of orange behind her only amplifying furiously reddened face that seemed to say: just who was this stupid servant that dared to ignore her? Her posse weren't too far off, of course, the other two women following closely behind with similar sneers on their faces.
"You dare ignore me, servant? I could have you whipped for insubordination!" The woman was even more beautiful up close but still Giselle was more confused about what she called her than worried about being whipped. It then dawned on her that the only reason she was mistaken for being a servant was because of her simple cotton dress.
Ohh…
Before she could even open her mouth to explain the misunderstanding, the woman was already blowing hot, her delicate brows knitted in anger.
"Are deaf as well as mute, servant?! Guards!"
"She must be mocking you, Vivi. Or just plainly retarded." one of her ladies quipped, gracefully waving a hand fan.
Giselle sputtered, "W-wait—you've got this wrong, miss—"
THWACK!
A loud cracking sound whistled through the air and landed painfully on her face. Her hair was strewn all over her face, wild and red, matching the blooming shade on her cheeks. She looked back up at the still furious woman barking all forms of profanities. She'd slapped her. A simple noblewoman had slapped the King's wife—albeit unknowingly. Gentle as she was, Giselle wasn't a wimp. A rush of red hot anger boiled within her, dangerously close to tipping over but she knew it would be foolish to give in to her emotions right now.
A small crowd had formed at the end of the spacious corridor, murmuring among themselves in confusion and intrigue. The women snickered at each other, one of them even hitting her on the head with her hand fan while she was yet to recover from the shock of the slap.
Just when Giselle felt she couldn't get away from this complete mess of a misadventure, familiar hasty footsteps echoed from behind her.
"Ma'am?" Madame Maeve's voice called, "Is everything alright?" she looked at the other woman and her brows shot up, "Lady Vivienne, what are you doing here by this hour? I thought you despised the afternoon sun?"
'Lady' Vivienne scoffed, twirling her parasol, "Never mind the afternoon sun, Maeve. This…failure of a serving girl ignored my repeated calls! I want her removed from this palace at once."
"S-serving girl?" The governess' face wrinkled in bewilderment.
Her face hovered next to hers, glancing between the two women in confusion. Then she spotted the red welt on Giselle's cheek and gasped.
"Vivienne, what in God's name have you done?" her smaller hands dabbed at Giselle's red face, "Do you have any idea who–"
"–Who she is? What more if not a lowly servant? I mean look at that horrid dress! And those rugged shoes? Extremely last season, if you asked me."
The noblewoman and her friends burst into high-pitched laughter as if it was the most hilarious thing.
If Giselle thought Maeve looked angry earlier when she messed up the dance routine, that was child's play compared to the murderous look on her face right now. It warmed her heart that even in this palace of thorns and thistles, there was someone who seemed to care for her.
She touched the woman's shoulder, internally relieved that the anger seemed to melt away. There was already a crowd brewing at the end of the corridor, Giselle didn't want her first introduction to this life to be marred by a petty misunderstanding.
"It's alright, Madame Maeve, let's go." She whispered to the governess.
Maeve blinked twice, looking back and forth between the two parties, "B-but…they…she hit you! And you're–"
"–I'm nobody important, not right now at least."Giselle inclined her head at the three women who looked at the very least utterly lost at the lack of retaliation, "I bid you farewell, ladies. May we meet again soon if the Goddess wills it."
The lady choked on her own spit as she tried to call out to the pair but they had already walked away with Giselle's hand on Maeve's shoulder.
As they went back to the left wing, Madame Maeve shook her head in disbelief.
"Why didn't you berate those…those vile women for how they treated you? Had they known you are their Queen–" She cut herself off with a heavy sigh as if the event drained her of all energy, "You need to grow some barbs around you, girl. This Court is vicious, they won't hesitate to rip you to shreds at the smallest sign of weakness."
Giselle hummed, closing the room's door behind her as they entered.
"You're right, Madame Maeve," She said, much to the other woman's surprise. In a palace full to the brim of uptight, narcissistic women and men, Giselle truly seemed to be a fish out of water, "Maybe I do need to grow some barbs around me. And I do hope you could teach me what you know."
The governess could only shake her head from side to side, an incredulous look on her face.
"You truly are a dream, Giselle." She said, "Well, it is my job to teach you everything you need to know—" a look of realization flashed across her features and she smiled, a cheeky, knowing smile. "Hmm, maybe you're not so soft after all."
"What do you mean, ma'am?" Giselle asked, stretching her limbs in preparation for dance practice.
"The King is yet to introduce you officially to his Court, it would have been unwise to engage in a pointless skirmish with that woman. Especially in front of an unwitting crowd." She said, one hand on her hip and the other stroking her chin.
"Smart move, Lady Giselle–" Maeve said with a… what was that… a rare smile of approval?
Giselle perked up but didn't say a word. Maybe, just maybe she had gotten a hang of this whole palace thing and this small victory, despite the stinging on her cheeks, made her happy.
"–We may make a Queen of you just yet, perhaps the most graceful one this Kingdom has ever seen."