The Reluctant Queen

Chapter 7

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 allowed. As though it wasn’t clear that it was a move to keep the citizens fleeing the floods and coming to town away, no vagrants allowed posters were placed by the window display.

Fashioned by King Charles’ fascination with Greek heroes and gods, the plaza was fitted with statues and water fountains as an ode of his love. An artisan was not qualified until his work had been placed before the residence of the King’s Plaza.

A public garden sat at the end of the street, separating the crème de La crème from the working class who made up much of the city. Members of the magistrate, librarians, and builders guild watched the lives of those they served at their places of work through the public parks which they were not allowed to use.

The Cathedral was unique in its placing that its front, where the King himself had the statues of cherubims commissioned, fell on the King’s plaza. The architecture was gothic much like the palace. The flowers were always well-trimmed with no weeds ever in sight. The gardens spanned acres upon acres that most preferred it to the public gardens. Behind the cathedral were the dormitories where the bishop and sisters lived.

Behind the glamorous building, past the sisters’ dormitories, where no one of repute ever went was a small church. It was the first building ever built and around it were detached buildings used to house the servants who looked after those who served at the monastery. They had their own gate to enter and depart, which was also used for food and equipment deliveries. Perhaps it was why the upper class never realised that one of those detached buildings kept the orphans and displaced women. It was also how Marié stopped her Princess image from colliding with the woman with far more secrets than she could contain. The Princess was not expected among the lowest of the low— only Sister Ines and the Bishop knew any better.

Out through the back gate were abandoned buildings used by those not qualified to work facing the upper echelons of society— maids, carpenters, factory workers, milk men and the like. They were a disregard but necessary part of Avignon and yet they never received a morsel that they did not earn. Some homes had fallen apart from the harsh winds and rain the past year, but they never complained, despite the many accusations which came from the King’s paranoia.

The homes were not glamorous but at least they had a place to lay their heads at night. Despite the popularity of Avignon among the upper class, those who came to work quickly realised that for them, it would not be a place of comfort. The gentry made no distinction between workers and rebels. All who weren’t aristocrats became a ‘them’ in a battle of us versus what they do not know. Similarly, the working folk feared being accused of being rebels and as such remained far from strangers. The kingdom was made of frightened individuals, starting with the King.

Marie packed the notes that she had made with the help of Mister Fontaine, assistant to the Magistrate, and shoved them into a makeshift Bible, hoping that she remembered all the laws regarding landlords and their responsibilities to the tenants. Despite going over everything for the past two weeks, some part of her was convinced that she would mess this up somehow. It would have been better if Mister Fontaine had been willing to represent the tenants of Duke of Pointe Percée just outside of the city. Like everyone that Marié had ever turned to, he feared the King’s rebuke for standing against one of the officials or accidentally assisting the rebels.

He cautioned Marié many times of her certainty that all family members with the group of women arriving into town were truly displaced residents. There had been so many women coming and going from outside of town that there was no knowing where they came. Perhaps some of it was a cover story as no one would go confirm where they came from. Nor did it matter. Princess Marié was also pretending to be someone she wasn’t, so who was she to judge? The previous tenants of the Duke gave her some hope that she could at least help a few families find a home. Faultless in his assistance, Marié only hoped that she would be logical in her presentation and do Mister Fontaine’s arguments justice.

“Are you ready?” Sofia was covered from head to toe in a grey habit like one of the sisters serving at the cathedral. The habit was loose fitting unlike the corsets that she normally wore, it was oddly freeing. Marié was dressed in a matching outfit and unlike Sofia, clothes had never defined her nor had she used them as a way to express herself. Disguising as women of the church was the only way that Marié thought they would not be arrested the moment they stepped on the King’s plaza. However, they had to avoid being seen by the sisters or the Bishop. “You make for a good little thief.”

Marie grinned, patting down the habit. “I took these from the store room and have every intention of returning them. I see myself as borrowing these and not theft.”

Sofia matched Marié’s grin. When they were alone, Marié was a completely different person unlike the guarded and reserved woman she was in front of others. “Are you not afraid that this will offend your family if we get caught?”

“I am accompanying a friend to get her home back,” Marié stated with a challenge in her blue eyes. “If I cannot help a friend then what good am I?”

Sofia took Marié’s hands in her own. Sofia’s hands were rough and cut up from her part-time job fetching wood to keep the dormitories warm. It did not earn her a lot and despite not being the oldest resident of Duke Hugo of Pointe Percèe, she was the most adaptive and had taken the responsibility of helping her neighbours upon herself. Upon their first meeting, Marié and Sofia took to each other as though they recognised that burning desire to not accept things as they are in each other.

“Come on then,” Sofia said, pushing Marié out of the store room first. Marié stumbled, managing to catch herself just in time. “If you have a brother I would gladly marry him.”

Marie placed a finger on her lips. They were not allowed in the sister’s dormitories and getting caught wouldn’t help either one of them. Perhaps Marié as the Princess could wriggle her way out of trouble but that would require admitting her true identity. As they walked, she looked at the still dark hallways and ran out of the front door. Luckily, it was still early morning and not yet time for morning prayers. Marié and Sofia nearly made it out safely when they heard footsteps fast approaching.

“We can pretend to be one of the sisters,” Sofia offered, bending down into a curtsy with her hands together as though in prayer.

Marié rolled her eyes and pulled Sofia into the stables. The smell of hay and animals was heavy in the air. “If you would be quiet.”

Listening closely, the person was a distance away but now coming faster and harder. They had no sense of care. It made no sense. The sisters were graceful and quiet, something that Marié wasn’t but dug nails into her skin to foster. For many years now, Marié adapted her personality just like a chameleon that she forgot what the woman inside wanted.

“So do you have a brother?” Sofia asked. They had never left the compound together and some part of Sofia wondered what Marié was like outside of the dormitories.

“Two,” Marié said quickly. The footsteps were coming right at them. Her mind began to find solid reasons for why they would be in habits. For herself, Marié guessed it wouldn’t be difficult to explain, she had been waiting for more than three years to enter the church. However, Sofia was no closer to a saint than any other person who came to Avignon looking for work.

“I can see you,” said Léa, stood in front of the stack of hay Marié and Sofia were hiding behind.

Sofia pushed forward, dusting herself off. “I was not hiding. It was Marié who didn’t want to get caught. It’s clear to all that I do not have the figure for a sister of the church. My bosom is made to be seen.”

Marié shot her look before turning her gaze to the young girl. “Why are you following us?”

“I want to come.”

“No.”

Léa crossed her arms. “No one but the sisters of the church are allowed to wear the habits. I will tell Sister Ines what you have done.”

Marié stared at Léa’s hopeful face and shook her head. “You can’t come, Léa. The magistrate is on the plaza and we will be taking a chance by going there. What if something happens to us?”

Sofia patted Marié on the shoulder. “Nothing ever happens to the girl. She’ll be lucky if something happens to us.”

Léa urged forward.

“I heard the King issued an order to prosecute anyone who is a rebel. It is not safe for her.”

“It isn’t safe for us either.” Sofia placed her hands on her waist. “Did you have permission from your mother?”

“Yes,” Léa answered. “She gave me a little money on my birthday and said I should buy something for myself.”

Sofia grinned. “Then who am I to stop you?”

Marié sighed as the girl came between her and Sofia. It killed her that no one took her seriously when she told them of the King’s plans. It was harder explaining to Sofia how she would know such things. Most women thought that she was the niece of the librarian. Her circumstances were better than theirs but she was just as at risk from the King as they were. The sad part was that Marié that no matter what she did, she had her brother’s protection. Unfortunately, it would never extend to any of her acquaintances. Having realised that she lost the argument, Marié took hold of Léa’s hand in her own, wanting to keep the girl at her side at all times.

“What are you planning on buying?” Marié asked, changing the subject to something lighter.

Léa shrunk coyly and her cheeks reddened. “I wanted a bit of rouge.”

“A bit?” Sofia scoffed. “I doubt you need any. Your face is lighting up like a beetroot. Who is your beau?”

Marié had guessed as much the night before but didn’t want to offend the young girl. Everyone deserved to keep their secrets. Marié had plenty that she kept under lock and key.

“He works in the city guard.” Marié’s heart plummeted. Was he one of the spies the King deployed? Her skin began to crawl as horror washed over Marie’s body, right to her soul. Léa smiled gleefully as she continued speaking. “He is the most handsome man that I have ever seen.”

Sofia laughed. “If every time I heard that phrase and it was true, then this world is full of handsome men.”

“It’s true!” Léa protested. “He cares for me and my beliefs like you said Marié.”

This time Sofia looked over at Marié with a mix of total disbelief and amusement. “You knew about this?”

Marié sighed. “No, she asked what I thought of love.”

“So you love him?” Sofia laughed. “While you are polishing your cheeks red for him, be wise and make sure that that’s all you are doing. Do not take your clothes off for him too.” Her brown eyes focused on Marié for a moment. “Young miss, I thought you knew nothing of love.”

Marié rolled her eyes. “I tolerate you, don’t I?”

Sofia grinned. “I mean the love between a man and woman. When you said you knew someone at the magistrate, I thought it was fishy how a young woman barely out of society could know any man.”

“Barely out of society?” Marié scoffed. “I am twenty and three. No one wants an old maid presented to society.”

“Miss, if you were not taking your vows, would you let me serve you?”

Sofia thwarted the girl’s hand. “We were introduced to her as one of the new sisters. She will be taking her vows, why would you ask her such a thing?”

“Because most sisters take only a few weeks before completely entering the monastery. Maybe she’ll change her mind.”

Marié smiled. “I won’t change my mind, Léa. My family is making it a little difficult for me to give myself completely, and I am giving them room to accept it. But you are not wrong, if there was something that I could do to change how you’re treated, I would.”

“Why do they hate us so much?” Léa asked. “If only they took the time to get to know us they would see that we don’t harm anyone.”

Sofia snorted. “Yet some idiots go into their pretty homes and take their pretty things. It’s no wonder the whole kingdom is afraid.”

“We are not all doing that!”

Sofia smiled. “All they see is tired clothing and sweaty hair when they look at you. Do you think anyone in the palace cares to distinguish from those rebelling against the King and us? Just ask the milk-man, he was beaten on his way home the other day. Any of us can join the rebels at any time and that’s all the constable needs to know.”

Léa slumped her shoulders, defeated. She looked away from Sofia and turned to Marié. “I heard the maids saying that Princess Giselle visits the cathedral from time to time. Couldn’t you talk to her? You know us…”

Marié stared at the defeat which matched her own. The things happening in their city required more than a once-over by the officials. However, everyone who didn’t look like them was lumped into one giant group. Marié met many people who didn’t support the rebel mandate and equally those who were in desperate situations that they had no other choice than to turn to those who would listen in the absence of their king.

“How dare you put her in such a position?” Sofia snapped. “She risks enough by coming with me today. Do you think just anyone can have an audience with royalty? We have lived at the church for a year and have never seen Princess Giselle. They protect her for a reason. If anything happened to her, Marié would be blamed. People like that are afraid of their own shadows!”

Léa scowled. “I am sorry, Marié. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s alright,” said Marié. “I am afraid of my own shadow so I doubt I would have said yes.”

“Did I say you?” Sofia countered. “You are a little thief who doesn’t fear Sister Ines. How could you be afraid of anything?”

Even dressed in habits, the three women had eyes following them the moment they stepped on the plaza. The ladies of the upper class and their chaperones looked through them like they were not there but not the same could be said for Léa. The sisters of the cathedral never left the church so Marié expected the eyes and perhaps a few questions regarding their presence. Any question that came before they reached the magistrate’s hall, she was prepared to deflect or lie if she had to. Before taking more than five steps a constable trailed their every move. Both Sofia and Marié tightened their hold on Léa without saying a word.

Like the infected, people stepped out of the way as they entered the magistrate’s hall. No single lord or lady was in sight like they had been on the plaza. For their disputes, the magistrate personally visited them at home.

“If you see anyone you know let me know and I will hide you as best as I can,” Sofia whispered, leaning close to Marié.

Marié nodded although she doubted that there would be a single person who knew her. After the introduction to Mister Fontaine, Sofia had assumed that Marié’s family made their money from some trade and she hadn’t had the heart to correct her. They sat at the back while they waited for their chance to stand at the podium before the magistrate. All around the room were constables and guards— a reminder of the King’s presence despite a lack of the gentry in attendance. The complaints presented were mostly disputes of monies owed and accusations of stolen property. Beside the magistrate, Mr Fontaine took notes whenever the pudgy man spoke. People fielded forward and had their chance to be heard and then moved on. Some accounts took longer than others, and by the time they were next, it was dark outside.

Sofia and Marié stood at the podium hand in hand as the magistrate looked over their file. His dark brows narrowed and briefly looked over at Mister Fontaine. “I thought I dismissed this case. Why is it here?”

Mister Fontaine opened his mouth and glanced over at Marié with a soft smile. “They are already before us, Your Honor.”

The magistrate sighed. “The courts have no place in the agreement between a landowner and his tenants.”

“As you can see in the documents provided, the Duke is not keeping his end of the bargain. If the courts aren’t there to protect the residence of the kingdom, then what are they for?” Marié asked in a soft and calm manner. After her many arguments with her brother, she was wary of being dismissed as irrational and emotional.

“I will caution you, young lady.”

“For what?” Marié asked. “I have merely stated facts and ask that you give us a moment of your time and look through the documents presented.”

“The land is flooded hence there is no work. Why should the Duke serve people that prove no use to him?”

“Are you blaming the tenants for the rain and floods?”

“Leave my halls before I have you forcibly removed.”

“Take Léa and run,” Marié quietly said to Sofia. Sofia began to protest, making Marié shake her head. “We won’t have another chance. Take this opportunity and run, I will be fine. There’s a shop on the corner that sells trinkets, tell him the veiled lady sent you and he will keep you safe.”

Marié watched them leave before focusing her attention on the magistrate. “Women and children have been left homeless. Their homes are destroyed and covered in water. The land where they grew their food is destroyed. What are they meant to do? The Duke cannot be found and the city does not offer them a home. Where are they meant to go?”

“Remove this pretender and find her accomplices,” the magistrate ordered. The constable ran across the room with his baton raised.

Marié knew it would hurt before he slashed her across the stomach and then in line with her sternum. Wind knocked out of her body, Marié grabbed onto her knees watching onlookers do nothing. She gritted her teeth, bearing the pain. “Tell me what crime I committed.”

The magistrate got on his feet. “Do you still have more to say? Give her ten lashings for contempt of court and see to it that she’s punished for disturbing the peace.”

“Is asking for help a crime?”

The constable put all his strength into his arm and whacked her over the back. Her back jerked. Marié let out a loud cry, looking back at him with defiance. The man took up the challenge and sent one final blow to the head. Her breath came in slow and jagged, vision blurry and the constable seemed to be swaying from side to side. A sudden warmth ran down Marié’s temple like a sweet and gentle caress. Marié blinked, watching as the constable got bigger like a giant, and then nothing.