章 40: Chapter 40: The Voices Of The Others

Èstelle Guide was not the kind of lady who would let a simple snowball, stop her from winning the Prince's favour. She was the perfect candidate, she attended the best public schools, did years abroad, studied, albeit illegally in 4littleEngland politics and cultural studies. But she was not the only one of the elite, no, in those circles, it was an open secret that no one talked about, if it leaked out to the common people, this scandal would amount to a revolution. She had agreed with her parents to snuggle up to the prince, but she had not expected to really like him. He was charming and genuinely honest, she liked that. One might have thought that meeting a man who had servants from front to back would be arrogant and conceited, reserved. On the contrary, he was, his family had also welcomed her with open and warm feeling. She was even allowed to ride with them in their private car, however she had managed to do so. Hoping that Prince Nicolas would run after her to reassure her, she had hurried off like a theatrical figure of Shakespeare. But her plan didn't work, she found herself at the edge of the forest and without Nicolas. He really is an idiot, she thought to herself. In the meantime, the on the surface of her face had melted and was running down her collarbone under her coat. But a lady, she had the gift of not letting an inconvenience show. She strutted up to a group of ladies and listened to their conversation. "Have you seen yet, Maybelle is not here.Does she really think she would be so clever and we wouldn't notice." Lady Eliza rolled her eyes and was startled to see the tall and slender Èstelle standing beside her. Unbeknownst to Èstelle, they were calling her the ice lady behind her back. "What happened to me, you went into the forest with princes, didn't you?" Èstelle didn't make a face, but her eyes spoke volumes. Sissley, who was slightly shorter and wore a reddish sheen in her hair, took her in her arms, stiffening more at that. "He just dumped you, if it makes you feel better, he does that to other ladies too, none of them seem good enough for him, except for Belle, but she obviously doesn't want him." "I agree, why is she still here anyway? I mean, she's obviously just putting up with it. No wonder, a four is not to be trusted either way. On my estate, we have extreme security checks and declarations of secrecy, you don't want to be robbed overnight, after all.", a lady in a green coat and ankle boots interfered in the discussion. Èstelle now also spoke up, "I don't give a damn about this Maybelle or Belle, whatever she calls herself. She has no business here. Prince Nicolas is obviously only so fascinated by her because she comes from the lowest view. She's new, she's rough, she's uneducated. I can well imagine that he would like to sow his wild oats before choosing one of us." The other ladies were silent after her words, whether they agreed with her or not. Èstelle had this such intimidating air about her that no one would dare contradict her, except for one. Martin had approached the ladies after hearing his lady's name come up more often. He felt obliged to defend the honour of Lady Belle Woodstock. Even if he did not want to admit it to himself, he had more feelings for her than he was allowed. Her appearance alone was an apparition to him. But even if he could not suppress these emotions, he knew he never stood a chance. Her heart belonged to the prince, the future ruler of this land. What did he have to offer her? Suddenly jealousy sprouted in him. She would be locked up, in a golden cage to be sure, but always behind her husband. Martin, could give her freedom and a rise in rank, they could move to the United Kingdom of the Teutons and build their future there. All just wishful thinking. He was also much OLDER than her, he was in his thirties and she was in her early twenties, if that. Martin didn't look it on the outside, but thanks to his good genes, he had hardly any wrinkles on his face. By now he was in the vicinity of the blasphemers. As a guard, he had made a habit of standing as discreetly as possible within a suitable radius of his subject without attracting attention. His arms were folded behind him and he bided his time before interjecting with a sigh.