Queen's inner turmoil

"What course of action should I take now?" She pondered, a forced smile concealing her inner turmoil.

As always, she must maintain a cheerful countenance for the sake of her subjects.

A gentle yet firm voice interrupted her thoughts .

"Your Majesty, how long will you remain here? The convoy in the grand hall awaits your presence. I request you to proceed to your chamber and prepare for the night celebration."

She realized she had been standing by the garden pond for an indeterminate amount of time, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. The weight of her loneliness, the betrayal of her husband's affections, and the overwhelming sense of isolation had consumed her. The once-vibrant garden, now bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, seemed to mirror her own internal turmoil.

With a heavy heart, she turned and walked toward her chamber, the silence of the palace echoing around me. As she passed through the ornate corridors, she couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Memories of happier times washed over her, fleeting moments of joy that now seemed like distant dreams.

"Where are the chambermaids?" She inquired, a hint of confusion in her voice.

A hesitant reply came from the attendant. "Your Majesty, they were sent to the second... queen... You were the one who ordered that, don't you remember? You said you needed some time alone and wished not to be disturbed."

"Well, your majesty... should I recall them?" the attendant asked.

"Forget it," she replied, dismissing the thought.

"Just bring me my attire and prepare my bathing chamber. Inform the other attendants to come here "

"Yes, Your Majesty," Rita replied.

"I must be exhausted," she mused to herself. "How could I have forgotten my own orders? It seems I've stressed myself too much" She sighed.

As she waited for her attendants, her mind wandered back to the events of the day. The arrival of the second queen had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within her.

She had always prided herself on her ability to maintain a composed exterior, but today, she felt like a fragile vessel teetering on the brink of collapse. The weight of her responsibilities had taken a toll on her mental and physical well-being.

She knew she needed to take a step back, to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos. The garden had always been her sanctuary, a place where she could escape the pressures of court life and find solace in nature. But even there, she had been unable to find respite.

"The bath preparations are complete ,your majesty,"the attendant said .

Eleanor nodded and went to the bath chamber. She tried to focus on the soothing warmth of the water and the gentle massage of the attendants. But her mind kept returning to the same thoughts, the same worries. She felt trapped, a prisoner in her own palace, surrounded by luxury and privilege but devoid of true happiness.

When she finally emerged from her bath, she felt a sense of renewed energy. The physical relaxation had helped to clear her mind, allowing her to think more rationally. She knew she couldn't dwell on the past, she had to focus on the present and look towards the future.

As she dressed in her royal attire, she reminded herself of her role as queen. She was a symbol of strength, of stability, and of hope for her kingdom. She could not allow her personal struggles to overshadow her duties.

With a renewed sense of purpose, she stepped out of her chamber and made her way to the banquet hall.

The night festival was in full swing, the air filled with the sounds of music and laughter. As she took her place on the dais, she forced a smile, a mask that concealed the turmoil within.

The herald's proclamation echoed through the grand hall, "The Great Queen has arrived!" he announced, his voice booming.

The crowd, a sea of glittering gowns and jeweled crowns, bowed their heads in deference. But as they rose, she noticed the lingering glances, the furtive whispers, the suppressed laughter. The hushed whispers, barely audible above the soft rustling of silk and the clinking of goblets, reached her ears like daggers.

She was accustomed to the adulation, the reverence, the hushed awe that accompanied her presence. Yet, tonight, it felt different. There was an undercurrent of something else, a hint of unease, of discontent.

"Oh, did you look at her dress?," she heard someone murmur. "Isn't that the Persian silk? So... what's the big deal?" someone said, glancing towards the great queen. Another voice, barely a whisper, chimed in. "I'm talking about the second queen. She's wearing the late grand queen's wedding dress. Can you believe it?"

The whispers grew louder, more insistent. "It's all so expected," one woman hissed. "King allowed her to wear the dress, didn't he? He didn't let the first queen wear it, speaking about how it was his mother's keepsake."

A cold dread settled in her stomach. She had known the second queen was a threat, but she hadn't anticipated this.

The grand queen's wedding dress, a symbol of status and authority, had been given to the second queen. It was a public humiliation, a blatant disregard for her position.