November 9th, 1613
The week that stretched between the arrival of Princess Marianne and the wedding itself seemed to distort time to breaking point. On paper, seven days did not look so very long, and yet in practice, at a court where the bride was kept sequestered to protect her virtue and reputation and the groom was put upon by the duties of his birthright, the days dragged painfully slowly. Four days after the princess' presentation at court, Marianne had seen Stephan perhaps twice, always in the company of others, and now, as notable guests began to arrive, it started to seem as though he might never get out from under the weight of greetings and welcomes. His secretary did his best, but the King was firm on the matter - the Crown Prince had to personally welcome as many of those who were coming to his wedding as was humanly possible.
"Your highness, the representative from the Edessan court will be arriving this morning, and I believe not long after, the king of Epirus' second son and his wife will present themselves at court. The king, your father, has sent a list of names of those he believes you should greet in person ..." There was a rustle as the roll of parchment was straightened. It was depressingly long.
In Stephan's eyes, it seemed like the longest week of his life, not just because he was anxious to make his sweet princess his wife, but because he was growing tired of the constant demands of court, though he knew those demands and responsibilities were all part and parcel of being who he was and who he was expected to be. But enough was enough. He wasn't even king yet, and he was already exhausted. It didn't help that he was wandering the castle late into the night, unable to sleep, the faces of the men he'd cut down haunting him still. His father had assured him those faces would fade with time, but the battle with its blood and carnage was still too fresh in his mind.
"Goddess," he sighed, shoving long fingers through his hair. Would it never end" Would he never get a single moment's peace" He had not seen the princess in days, and even then, only briefly. He wondered if she was having any regrets or second thoughts about marrying him, now that she was here in Berengaria and the full weight of responsibility had been thrust upon them both. He moved to his feet to gather his cloak, as if he was readying to go somewhere.
"Your highness?" His secretary looked startled by his master's sudden movement, glancing to the cloak in the prince's hand in concern. "Do you intend to ride out to meet the Edessans?"
"No, I intend to get away from this bloody castle for a while before it suffocates me," he replied, tossing the cloak over his shoulders and fastening it at his throat as he moved for the doors. "If my father inquires as to my whereabouts, tell him I went for a ride and will return shortly," he informed the man, leaving no room for a quarrel. He felt a headache coming on, and the ride would do him good.
The stammering of his secretary was lost as the door closed behind him. The poor man might get himself dressed down by the king for delivering such news, but Philippe knew his son well enough. There was only so much a man could take, after all. The halls of the castle were bustling with movement - servants, courtiers, mingling and conversing, each as excited as the other at the exalted faces that were joining them in preparation for the wedding that was so soon to come.
Long strides took him toward that part of the castle where his mother's quarters were, almost without thought, though it wasn't his mother he was hoping to see, but the elusive princess who was to become his wife in a matter of a few days. He wound his way through the maze of servants and courtiers, all busily chattering about the upcoming wedding, it seemed, falling silent when they realized the Crown Prince himself was in their midst. All the excitement did was make Stephan even more nervous and anxious to escape for a little while, away from the watchful eyes and ears of the court.
Not even the ripple of respectful silence that only just preceded him was enough to warn the Queen's chamberlain of his approach in time to get through the doors of his mother's suite before the prince, resulting in the announcement of Catherine's eldest son from behind him as he strode into the midst of her ladies.
As Catherine laughed to see him, one face among the gathered women who curtseyed rose to find his with a shy smile he had come to know well on the ride into the city. Marianne had been kept by the queen's side almost constantly since her arrival, surrounded by prominent ladies of the court, introduced to them and expected to learn dances and customs within a matter of days. She, too, was feeling more than a little stifled by the excited anticipation that smothered her.
"Ah, my son," Catherine said warmly, the only woman there who did not sweep into a deep curtsey before him. Her eyes twinkled merrily, not unlike his, flickering to the young princess. "And what brings you here, may I ask?"
He was almost as surprised as they were to find himself there, only realizing where he was going once he arrived at his destination. Upon seeing the princess, he stopped dead in his tracks, as struck by her beauty as he had been upon their first meeting. He seemed at a loss for words a moment, sorely tempted to take her by the hand and draw her away with him, prevented from doing so only by the crowd of ladies watching and his own good sense. "Mother," he started, with a small, polite bow. "I am going for a ride, and I would like to request that the princess accompany me."
At a gesture from the queen, the ladies rose to stand once again, eyes turning curiously from the prince to his bride. Catherine's smile warmed, knowing she shouldn't help her son escape his duties, but well aware of how appalling it could be to be the center of so much interest and speculation. "I think that such a request should be made to the princess herself," she said, knowing she was likely to catch a certain amount of heat from her husband for allowing this, but prepared to weather it. She turned to Marianne. "Princess, would you like to ride with the prince for a short while?"
The relief on Marianne's face was almost comical, hidden swiftly behind the smile that rose as she inclined her head, well-trained in courtly manners. "If the queen permits, I should very much like to join your highness," she said softly, her words for Stephan alone, despite the crowd around them.
Catherine swallowed a grin. "Then I should make your escape quickly, before the king discovers you have gone," she suggested in a surprisingly mischievous tone.
A smile spread across Stephan's face when he realized his mother was not only going to allow a short escape, but seemed to be doing nothing to discourage it. "Shall we, then?" he asked, extending a gloved hand to the princess, blue eyes sparkling with that familiar hint of almost boyish mischief.
The week that stretched between the arrival of Princess Marianne and the wedding itself seemed to distort time to breaking point. On paper, seven days did not look so very long, and yet in practice, at a court where the bride was kept sequestered to protect her virtue and reputation and the groom was put upon by the duties of his birthright, the days dragged painfully slowly. Four days after the princess' presentation at court, Marianne had seen Stephan perhaps twice, always in the company of others, and now, as notable guests began to arrive, it started to seem as though he might never get out from under the weight of greetings and welcomes. His secretary did his best, but the King was firm on the matter - the Crown Prince had to personally welcome as many of those who were coming to his wedding as was humanly possible.
"Your highness, the representative from the Edessan court will be arriving this morning, and I believe not long after, the king of Epirus' second son and his wife will present themselves at court. The king, your father, has sent a list of names of those he believes you should greet in person ..." There was a rustle as the roll of parchment was straightened. It was depressingly long.
In Stephan's eyes, it seemed like the longest week of his life, not just because he was anxious to make his sweet princess his wife, but because he was growing tired of the constant demands of court, though he knew those demands and responsibilities were all part and parcel of being who he was and who he was expected to be. But enough was enough. He wasn't even king yet, and he was already exhausted. It didn't help that he was wandering the castle late into the night, unable to sleep, the faces of the men he'd cut down haunting him still. His father had assured him those faces would fade with time, but the battle with its blood and carnage was still too fresh in his mind.
"Goddess," he sighed, shoving long fingers through his hair. Would it never end" Would he never get a single moment's peace" He had not seen the princess in days, and even then, only briefly. He wondered if she was having any regrets or second thoughts about marrying him, now that she was here in Berengaria and the full weight of responsibility had been thrust upon them both. He moved to his feet to gather his cloak, as if he was readying to go somewhere.
"Your highness?" His secretary looked startled by his master's sudden movement, glancing to the cloak in the prince's hand in concern. "Do you intend to ride out to meet the Edessans?"
"No, I intend to get away from this bloody castle for a while before it suffocates me," he replied, tossing the cloak over his shoulders and fastening it at his throat as he moved for the doors. "If my father inquires as to my whereabouts, tell him I went for a ride and will return shortly," he informed the man, leaving no room for a quarrel. He felt a headache coming on, and the ride would do him good.
The stammering of his secretary was lost as the door closed behind him. The poor man might get himself dressed down by the king for delivering such news, but Philippe knew his son well enough. There was only so much a man could take, after all. The halls of the castle were bustling with movement - servants, courtiers, mingling and conversing, each as excited as the other at the exalted faces that were joining them in preparation for the wedding that was so soon to come.
Long strides took him toward that part of the castle where his mother's quarters were, almost without thought, though it wasn't his mother he was hoping to see, but the elusive princess who was to become his wife in a matter of a few days. He wound his way through the maze of servants and courtiers, all busily chattering about the upcoming wedding, it seemed, falling silent when they realized the Crown Prince himself was in their midst. All the excitement did was make Stephan even more nervous and anxious to escape for a little while, away from the watchful eyes and ears of the court.
Not even the ripple of respectful silence that only just preceded him was enough to warn the Queen's chamberlain of his approach in time to get through the doors of his mother's suite before the prince, resulting in the announcement of Catherine's eldest son from behind him as he strode into the midst of her ladies.
As Catherine laughed to see him, one face among the gathered women who curtseyed rose to find his with a shy smile he had come to know well on the ride into the city. Marianne had been kept by the queen's side almost constantly since her arrival, surrounded by prominent ladies of the court, introduced to them and expected to learn dances and customs within a matter of days. She, too, was feeling more than a little stifled by the excited anticipation that smothered her.
"Ah, my son," Catherine said warmly, the only woman there who did not sweep into a deep curtsey before him. Her eyes twinkled merrily, not unlike his, flickering to the young princess. "And what brings you here, may I ask?"
He was almost as surprised as they were to find himself there, only realizing where he was going once he arrived at his destination. Upon seeing the princess, he stopped dead in his tracks, as struck by her beauty as he had been upon their first meeting. He seemed at a loss for words a moment, sorely tempted to take her by the hand and draw her away with him, prevented from doing so only by the crowd of ladies watching and his own good sense. "Mother," he started, with a small, polite bow. "I am going for a ride, and I would like to request that the princess accompany me."
At a gesture from the queen, the ladies rose to stand once again, eyes turning curiously from the prince to his bride. Catherine's smile warmed, knowing she shouldn't help her son escape his duties, but well aware of how appalling it could be to be the center of so much interest and speculation. "I think that such a request should be made to the princess herself," she said, knowing she was likely to catch a certain amount of heat from her husband for allowing this, but prepared to weather it. She turned to Marianne. "Princess, would you like to ride with the prince for a short while?"
The relief on Marianne's face was almost comical, hidden swiftly behind the smile that rose as she inclined her head, well-trained in courtly manners. "If the queen permits, I should very much like to join your highness," she said softly, her words for Stephan alone, despite the crowd around them.
Catherine swallowed a grin. "Then I should make your escape quickly, before the king discovers you have gone," she suggested in a surprisingly mischievous tone.
A smile spread across Stephan's face when he realized his mother was not only going to allow a short escape, but seemed to be doing nothing to discourage it. "Shall we, then?" he asked, extending a gloved hand to the princess, blue eyes sparkling with that familiar hint of almost boyish mischief.