Novels by Millie M

“Marié!” The King exclaimed, running towards his sister. Lucien stood behind them, arms crossed behind his back like a perfect stature that watches all and doesn’t answer back. Which was false. Marié saw the judgement in his eyes of all the things that he hadn’t said to her the last time that they saw each other. She let herself be impressed by Charles for a moment. For those brief seconds that he enveloped her, Charles was no King. He was her elder brother, who walked with her hand in hand over freshly cut grass, and at times played in the maze. Just as children. No titles. No crowns. No responsibilities. Charles pulled away and lifted her veil. The King assessed Marié from the top of her head to her feet with a scowl. His hand reached across her temple and touched the small bruise. “I have seen it to it that they are all punished.”Those words were like being doused with cold water. Marié pulled away from him. “How are they to be blamed for a decree that you issued?”Charles sighe

Prince Wilhelm had always maintained a cordial relationship with his guards. When he left home, the King only permitted Adolf, the commander of those guards, to accompany him. The other ten men were handpicked by the King himself and Wilhelm had always known them as those who stole away his secrets and handed them to the King. When the ten were in his presence, they felt his impatience and forced tolerance. Karl, the leader of the ten, rushed over to Prince Wilhelm, head hung but with impatient feet. Wilhelm internally groaned, refusing to look up at him. The seething anger held for his father, that Wilhelm usually had clamped down, effervescence and leaked to the surface. The ten were an ugly reminder of the control the King held over everything that Wilhelm held dear. One misstep and it would be Agatha’s life, Wilhelm knew that. Did they report his impertinence to his father, Wilhelm wondered. It was only the beginning of his impertinence. By the time all his plans came through, hi

The first thing that Nanny did when she saw Marié was to hug her and call her an ungrateful child several times. Seeing what was done to the Princess brought tears to Nanny’s eyes and that resulted in a few thumps to Marié’s back. Even Prince Lucien who was usually quick to jump to Marié’s defences stood aside, arms crossed, as Nanny tore into Marié. Marié opened her mouth to defend herself and the older woman merely threw a stern gaze in Marié’s direction that could silence the King himself. Marié’s saving grace came with the doctor’s arrival. For the thirty minutes that he was examining her, Prince Lucien and Nanny were quietly looking on with worried expressions on their faces. What little assurances that Marié gave of the injuries being worse than they looked went unheard. The Princess had a tendency of diminishing herself in front of others that Lucien stopped taking her at her wits. Other than giving Nanny bandages to apply after Marié’s bath and a concoction for the pain and

Beaten and broken, Marié lay on the chilled stones of the dungeon, underneath the magistrate’s halls. Caked up blood sat on her forehead and her body was so tense that she rather the contents of the leaking roof trickle down the musty walls and pool over her instead of moving away. Heavy lidded and covered in darkness, Marié knew that she could not fall asleep again. Her pulse violently thumped against her temple, a reminder of being hit over the head. Despite not being able to see it in the dark, the smell of bile was in the air and she knew that she must have woken up at some point and threw up. “Is this what you meant by helping them?” Marié quietly asked the empty room. No one ever answered. Yet Marié knew that none of the things she had done in the last seven years was what her mother planned. It was difficult knowing what the dead wanted or what they would have done in the same situation. Metal clashed against metal as the constable baton passed over each bar of the barrier k

The upper echelons of Avignon were made of the King’s officials and their families. If they were not so lucky to be given an apartment at the palace, they were given homes on the King’s plaza— a palace away from the palace. Each home stood tall and filled with grandeur that no guest ever felt offended to be placed there. The road itself was heavily guarded by palace guards that only the crème de La crème of society were allowed. Trespassing the plaza was like entering the palace uninvited. It was where the gentry played among themselves. From modistes to bankers, they were placed in perfect establishments that were big enough to be homes with a sitting area where patrons were given tea with biscuits, champagne or even cigars. The most skilled and favoured in the country were placed on the King’s plaza. Entry came by invitation only and the guards were there to ensure that such courtesies were maintained and no patron was offended. Introductions were required before a new family was a

“I heard the Queen was fuming that Prince Wilhelm is not giving her the attention she requires,” Nanny spat. “Serves her right! I hear he spends most of his evenings out of the palace, it must kill her that there’s a man not willing to bend to her qualms.”Marié ignored her and continued placing clothes in a wooden trunk. Her week-long visits to the monastery went quicker than she expected. Perhaps it was due to the increased number of hours that she had to put in to stop her brother from driving their home into hell. For a long time now, Marie felt like a guest in her own home. She felt more at home with the sisters at the monastery and the children. Returning to the palace was harder than leaving, and why would it? By King Charles definition, Marié was more rebel than she was a princess. “Did you hear what I said?” Nanny asked, tapping Marié on the shoulder with her fan. Marié rolled her eyes. “Prince Wilhelm is the epitome of charm and perfection, I have heard you the first hundr