Chapter 42: Sliced Bread And Worked Butter

(chapter before Raingency)

My eyelids perceived a change in brightness, something flickered. Then a rustling sound followed, I turned sleepily onto my right side and buried my face in the cushion. Individual sections of my hair slipped onto my nose. I opened one eye and immediately closed it again, a ray of sunlight was aimed directly at my face. I had to yawn and straightened up, leaning my head against the edge of the bed. "Lady Woodstock, you are all requested to attend breakfast, Prince Nicolas would like to tell you all SOMETHING. I have already placed a robe on your bed," a maid that didn't say anything special to me, probably belonged to Holly. My eyes spied a flash of red, it was a stark contrast to the white linen, of the bed. The maid urged me to move faster and shooed me out of my warm bed. As the cold of the building enveloped me, a slight shiver ran through me. "Holly?", I asked across the room, my voice a little rough and dry from my short night. Holly's half-curly dark hair framed her cheeks as she appeared in the doorway of the small bathroom. She grinned at me. How could she look so cheerful and fresh? "You called me?" she replied back to me. I nodded and yawned again before answering her, "You weren't here and somehow, I got pulled out of my bed." I had, in my defence, not eaten much the last 24 hours. "Yes, Enea, can be rather gruff, but you'll get used to it." as if all was settled, she pranced back into the bathroom humming the national anthem of Little England. The maid, whose name was Enea, cleared her throat and eyed me sternly. She handed me a hanger on which hung a 50s red day dress. I looked back at her, wide-eyed and overwhelmed, my fingers stroking the delicate cotton. That it wasn't silk disappointed me a little, to be honest, but with cotton, I was quite happy too. "Please get dressed, we have a timed schedule to keep," her voice cut me off from any back talk and I disappeared behind a screen. Fortunately it didn't have too many buttons, so it wasn't really vintage. It reached about below my kneecaps. Along with my underwear, I wore a tulle skirt under the top dress to give it volume. The sleeves were cut to three-quarters, the collar a classic bobble collar with a button placket down the front. The only thing I would have done differently would have been a vienna seam, instead of a flank seam. It would suit my body type better. I didn't seem to have been quick enough because Enea pulled me by the hand to the dressing table, there my hair was brutally brushed and pinned up shoulder length. This made it appear that I was wearing a round haircut. To go with my red lipstick and thinner made-up eyes, a fascinator with red tulle sat on my head. I didn't get a good look at Holly until she and I were on our way to the dining room. She was wearing a nicer offshoot of my dress, only in grey with black buttons, on her chest she wore a black brooch with the emblem of the royal family Kantonie and the fabric was not cotton but silk. I was almost a little envious. "Are you allowed to wear the brooch of the royal family?", I inquired. She laughed softly, "Oh, you realised? Not really, but the Prince made an exception for me. He gave it to me after a date because he wanted to create a memory. I've kept it with me ever since, only rarely obvious." I tensed and swallowed hard, he gave jewellery to other ladies too? I had hoped I was special. Something that belonged only to the prince and me. Holly touched me on the arm, "Are you alright, you're so quiet all of a sudden?" I replied in the negative, but couldn't suppress a sigh. "If I'm being completely honest, no. Nicolas gave me a piece of jewellery too, but not one from royalty. I think he likes you more than me," I admitted meekly. Holly's features turned from mirth to concern, "I doubt it, I've really rarely seen. The Prince has shown far more interest in others." "Can we talk about this later? I have a very empty stomach," I cut the subject off.

The ruling couple and a few ladies were already at the table. I spied sliced bread and butter being worked. In between were medium-sized vases of pink and white roses, surrounded by bouquets of ivy. No one had spotted us yet, with a fake smile I whispered in Holly's ear, "We didn't have to hurry at all." She nodded and I could tell her discomfort was rising. A servant motioned in our direction, "Good morning ladies, I'll escort you to vacant seats." We thanked him, the assigned seats were at the end of the large table. However, it was not as enormous as in the palace. In general, everything here was stately but more discreet. Even the king and queen wore everyday clothes. Suddenly Holly squealed up beside me and exclaimed enthusiastically, "Oh my goodness, filmjölk and gröt, I haven't seen it for ages." The silence in the auditorium was unmistakable. Holly only now realised that she was not behaving in a ladylike manner at all. King More threw his newspaper on the table and stood up angrily, then he gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and took his leave. "Lady Holly, you are from Sweden, aren't you?", Queen Alice looked at her sincerely and gently stroked the back of her hand. Holly threw back a startled look, she looked frozen. I came to her rescue, "Yes, Your Majesty." "You know, I actually speak a little Swedish. I used to have relatives there, but they emigrated a long time ago and our contact has broken off," she smiled kindly at her. Holly smiled back tentatively and now sank quietly into her chair. What I wondered was: why had the king stormed off as if stung by a tarantula? I understood that Holly's reaction to certain food on the table was uncontrolled, but so inappropriate that he just got up and disappeared was strange. "You did good," I nudged my friend encouragingly. The rest of the ladies trickled into the hall, with Èstelle standing by the prince's side. I held my breath as Nicolas moved past me. "Lady Èstelle, why don't you take a seat?" Was I imagining it, even the Queen was not well disposed towards her. It pleased me inwardly and fuelled my feelings of triumph. After the last two people had sat down, the usual breakfast noises began. Sliced rolls, poured cups of tea and beheaded eggs, were just one of the many things on offer. The moment the scent of warm chocolate hit my nose, my stomach grumbled and demanded nourishment. I leaned towards my friend and huffed, "What were those things you said in Swedish just now, anyway." Holly's hair bobbed as she bit down on a paper-thin, dry sheet of dough. She swallowed and then she enlightened me. Filmjölk, is a sour milk mixed together with jam and cereal or cornflakes. In my mind, I thought of a kind of semolina porridge, a speciality from my mother's homeland. Gröt was a porridge consisting of oatmeal, sort of like a smallish porridge. When asked if I would like to try it, I said yes. She fished out a small bowl that had not yet been padded and spooned a little of it into it. I accepted it gratefully and took a bite. It didn't taste bad, but it wasn't really mine either. Since Nicola's family was far too far away to hear what they were saying over the noise, I could only make out that they must be having an animated discussion. It still gnawed at me that I was not the only one to receive a gift from him. I felt somehow cheap.

Half an hour later, they were ditched and Nicolas raised his voice: "Ladies, as you can already imagine, I have invited you all to my family's country estate for a reason. Here you can prove yourselves once again and also get to know me in a more private establishment. I will greatly reduce the round after our stay. After all, it is a competition and I want to find a bride." Many ladies looked sadly at their hands or hung their heads. After the speech, Alice Kantonie rose and shared information with us as well, "As my son put it, this is a competition. Since one of you will soon become a part of my family, I would like to invite you all to spend an afternoon with me. All of you, come and join me in my chambers today." We clapped for both speeches and stood up.