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by **Leila Aarons** on Sat Nov 15, 2008 7:51 pm

The halls of the castle were beautiful--honestly, everything about this palace was beautiful. It was built to be that way. Extravagent and wonderful. This was the palace of Versailles--with the hall of mirrors and all the gold one could ask for in a place. She had lived here all of her life, and it was no longer anything special to her. Really, Isabella would prefer not to live here anymore, to have never lived here. The extravagence wasn't really her style, which was odd as she was a princess.

Finally, she reached her destination--the large dining room. Unfortunately, it was a part of every morning that she had to go through. Breakfast with all of the other nobles at Versailles. The conversation was very boring and petty, and Isabella hated it. But she had little choice other than to go, and she took her usual spot near the head of the table. Usually, the whole family would be here in the mornings, but if there was some dire business her father wouldn't always show.

-------------------------------------------------

Annette was up with the sun as she was every morning, quickly getting out of bed and getting dressed. Like all the mornings before, she quickly left the house and went to the shop, restocking anything that needed it. Though, in these times, they didn't have all of the materials needed to be able to restock everything. She just had to do her best. Once that was done, she got to work on doing the baking, needing to get it done before the shop opened.

The same routine over and over again, but Annette really didn't mind it at all. It kept her busy, especially in the mornings. But, lately, things had been getting a lot more scarce, and violent. She wasn't sure if she would be able to handle it if anyone tried to attack her or anything, but she didn't worry about it too much. The only thing she didn't necessarily like was the fact that she often worked in the store alone, her parents and siblings working elsewhere. Her family, though they owned a shop, weren't considered merchants, not quite bourgeoisie class. They were still dirt poor. Annette didn't let that get to her, though, fairly happy with the life she led.

Once everything was made up and ready, she opened the doors to the shop, then went back behind the counter to await the customers that she knew would come. Being shy, this was kind of a hard job for her, but it was the only thing that she could do. She wasn't strong like her brothers and father, and she wasn't coordinated like her mother, so this was the job that she was given for the family.

((If you would like to join, the OOC is here.))

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by **St.Jimmy** on Sun Nov 16, 2008 2:46 am

Armand made his way down into the large dining room. He had risen later than he should and when he had opened his eyes, he had known at once that he was late for breakfast. Shards of sunlight slanted across his pupils through the gaps in his red velvet curtains and he sat up slowly, running one hand through his tousled blonde hair as the mornight light highlighted the brightness in his blue eyes. He always moved slowly on a morning, and today was no exception. Stumbling across to the wide wardrobe against the far wall, Armand pulled on his fine clothes and then ran a comb through his hair, straightening it out before he turned to the door.

His bed was unmade and the curtains still drawn with his night clothes in a heap beneath them, but the servants could sort that out. Still stifling a yawn, the fifteen year old made his way down into the large dining room.

As he passed the palace splendour, his eyes took it all for granted. Not once did he spare a thought for the peasants on the streets: they simply did not enter his head.

Armand entered the dining room and the first person he saw was his sister. Isabella was sitting in her designated seat, but their mother and father had not turned up yet. Armand took his own seat and felt the awkwardness of the silence crawling over his skin.

"Good morning, Isabella," he said.

by **Leila Aarons** on Sun Nov 16, 2008 10:40 am

Hearing her brother's voice, Isabella lifted her gaze from the tabletop, looking at him. She grinned faintly just to be polite, although she had never been extremely close to her sibling. Close enough, yes, but not as close as say...peasant siblings could be. "Good morning, Armand." She replied in her soft but strong voice.

"You're late, you know. But mother and father aren't here yet, so it doesn't much matter, I suppose." She shrugged, just trying to make some conversation to get rid of the awkward silence. "You really should bring up to father how the peasants are getting increasingly unhappy. You know he doesn't listen to me, a woman, about the state of the country."

by **St.Jimmy** on Sun Nov 16, 2008 10:53 am

"Peasants are always unhappy," Armand replied indifferently, reaching across to the jug to pour himself a glass of cold water. "There is always something that they have to complain about. What can father do? As soon as he resolves one problem, I am sure that they will bring something else up." Running a hand through his blonde hair, he looked across at her. "You think too much about them, Isabella. They are but peasants. What can they do against the magnificance of our palace?" He spread his arms as if to encompass the grandeur around him.

Stifling a yawn, he turned back to his glass of water and picked it up with his free hand before taking a sip. It woke him up a little more and he leaned back in his chair.

by **Leila Aarons** on Sun Nov 16, 2008 11:09 am

Isabella sighed in slight frustration, but kept her composure. "I don't think you put enough thought into the peasants. They have a lot more potential than you and father seem to consider. I would watch them more closely if I were you--if they end up surprising us with something big, we won't be able to stop it. France will fall." For some reason, though, she didn't think her brother or father would listen to her words. She was just a woman, afterall, what did she know about these things?

"But at any rate, that's enough of politics at the table. I hope breakfast gets here soon." Isabella was growing hungry, and she didn't want to talk about those issues any longer when what she said wouldn't even be paid attention to.

by **St.Jimmy** on Sun Nov 16, 2008 11:27 am

Armand barely listened as she outlined her views, and only picked back up on her words when she mentioned breakfast.

"I'm starving," he agreed, whilst outside the palace walls there were people who really were starving. "But they won't serve food until father gets here, and God knows how long that will take." He leaned back in his chair again, feeling his stomach grumbling its complaints. Then he remembered something, and looked across at Isabella with a quick grin.

"Will you cover for me again today, Isabella? I want to go out, but I have my lessons today with Monsieur Dupont." He shuddered. "That man is determined to make things difficult for me. Will you tell our parents I felt ill and am asleep in my room? Mother will not disturb me if she thinks I am asleep. I'm going to go out into the city on Marcel again and escape from Monsieur Dupont." His eyes were sparkling. Once upon a time, he might have included his sister in his schemes, but as he had grown older he had begun to believe the gender differences that everyone else put out: she was just a girl, and as such she should stay at home. These days, her role in his escape plots was regularly to cover for him whilst he rode through the city on his horse.

by **Leila Aarons** on Sun Nov 16, 2008 11:42 am

Isabella sighed, but saw the sparkle in her brother's eyes. She couldn't deny him his fun, even if she longed to be able to do the same thing. He never covered for her, but she didn't mention that, just nodding. "Fine, Armand. I'll tell our parents your story so you can go and enjoy yourself. Try to take a look at the town while you're out there, see what the peasant's lives are like. Maybe then you'll feel some sympathy." Though she highly doubted it, and figured he would stop listening to her words as soon as she said she would cover for him.

Reaching out, she got some water for herself, knowing this day would be as boring as the others. At least she should be able to spend some time just writing and ignoring all the useless drivel of the court. Taking a sip, she glanced at her brother again. "When do you plan to leave for the town?"

by **St.Jimmy** on Sun Nov 16, 2008 11:47 am

"A little after breakfast," Armand replied. "Monsieur Dupont arrives at midday, so I will begin to 'feel ill' at around ten. Thank you, Isabella." He grinned at her, then noticed that she appeared to be upset about something. The fact that he had realized this was a miracle in itself: Armand seldom noticed anyone's problems except his own.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired, watching her as he took another sip from his glass of water. In the back of his mind, he wished his parents would hurry up.

by **Leila Aarons** on Sun Nov 16, 2008 12:06 pm

Isabella was surprised that he actually noticed something was wrong, but she denied it. Talking to him wouldn't help her any, she didn't think, and she didn't feel like troubling him with her issues. "It's nothing, Armand, really. I was just thinking that I would like to go out, but I can't today anyway, so don't worry about it." She wasn't sure if she would ever be able to go out as her brother did, but she would try to sometime. "Mother and father should be here pretty soon, perhaps we should stop talking about this? They may find out about your plan."

by **St.Jimmy** on Sun Nov 16, 2008 1:14 pm

Armand nodded. "You're right," he agreed, taking another sip from his water. He was very hungry now, and hoped they'd be down soon. "They're very late," he remarked. "I'm usually the last to arrive. I wonder what's keeping them?"

He drained his glass and set it back down on the table, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. He couldn't imagine what could be making them take so long.

by **Cohort Of Time** on Mon Nov 17, 2008 5:53 pm

Pierre was at town buying some milk. He could have hadthe milk delivered to his house, but he never had money enough to put down on a convenience like that. Pierre walked into a small shop that was ran by a poor shop owner.He waved to the man and said, "Hello, Hector. How are sales going?"

"Why, if it isn't Pierre Fels! Nice to see you here, old buddy. Sales are going like everyones sales in these times. All the nobles have all the money and you know they won't be coming here for food." Hector didn't dwell on much. "Anything I can help you with, Pierre?"

Pierre knew what Hector meant. He hated the inequalities between the nobles and peasants. Pierre also found it ironic that the Clergy had plenty of money and power, even though according to God, they were all equal. But Pierre never sated this because it would be taken as blasphemy and he would surely be thrown in jail. "I just need a hald gallon of milk, Hector. 'Ol Bessie quit milking again." Pierre's only cow was getting old and only milked about half the times he tried.

Hector got him the milk and theye xchanged good for money. They said goodbye to eachother and Pierre left the store. Pierre walked home. His home wasn't too far from the city. His wife Velisa was waiting on the porch. He waved. "Hey Vel, I got the milk you wanted!" He gave the milk to his wife and picked up a hoe. It was time to till the soil.

by **Applepoisoneer** on Thu Nov 20, 2008 11:56 am

A tall, thin man with blonde hair parted the doors and entered the dining hall. He sat a few seats down from Armand and looked to the both of them with a weary smile. It had been months since he began his affair with the queen, although he didn't regard her that way when they were alone. It still troubled him to face her children, who were not quite half his age. "Good morning my lord and lady." He breathed, taking a sip of the water in front of him and sinking back into his chair with a sigh.

by **Leila Aarons** on Fri Nov 21, 2008 8:08 pm

Isabella lifted her head when the other man came into the room, then politely nodding to him. "Good morning, Sir." She said with a slight air of mistrust--she had always had a bad feeling about this man. She never spoke of it, however, not to anyone, especially not to him or her parents. Her feeling could be completely unfounded, anyway.

Looking back to the table, she just sipped at her water a bit more, still waiting on her mother to come to breakfast. "She's never this late..." She mumbled, more to herself than either of the males at the table. She was beginning to get hungry, and hoped breakfast would be out soon. It could not commence without the King and Queen, though, unfortunately.

by **Applepoisoneer** on Fri Nov 21, 2008 9:24 pm

"She has some inflamation in her knees." Muttered Rozenfae, more to Armand than Isabella, as he sensed her dislike of him from her hurried comments and ducking outs. "She should be-" He was inturrpted by a rustling of skirts and an overal stirr as the Queen finally entered the room.

She moved with, not so much grace as she once had due to arthuritis; but her motion was still as regal as ever it was. She came to sit at the upper right of the table, next to Isabella and smiled at the both of them as she folded her hands upon the lace broccade table cloth. "Good morn mes petites." She beamed, paying a little extra glance to Rozenfae as she scanned the table.

by **Leila Aarons** on Fri Nov 21, 2008 11:02 pm

Isabella smiled at her mother, playing the part of a very good daughter, when it fact she didn't enjoy being the daughter of the Queen. It wasn't really anything against her mother personally, Isabella just didn't like having to be confined to the castle--to the rich and over-extravagent life of a princess. Alas, it is what she was born into, and she had long since done her best to accept that fact. Or at least appear to accept it.

"Good morning, mother." Isabella spoke softly to her mother, politely, but with almost a sense of boredom behind her words. And, in fact, Isabella was quite bored. Not with today, not with this morning, or with the people here, but just of the day to day activities that contained very little change.

Soon enough, breakfast was brought out, as the King had come. It was as grand a breakfast as ever, and Isabella made small talk with her family and the others of high ranking at the table as she always did. She was polite, regal, just how a princess should be. But she wasn't herself--she was never herself in these situations. Only when she was alone, away from the crowd, could she be herself.

by **St.Jimmy** on Sat Nov 22, 2008 3:12 am

"I don't feel well, mother," Armand complained, already ready to set his plan into motion. "I think I'll go and lie down after breakfast." He shot Isabella a quick grin, then leaned forwards and put some breakfast on his plate. It tasted delicious and he became half-involved with the talk as he ate.

"Monsieur Rozenfae?" he said at last, remembering that the man was a doctor. "I'm going to go and lie down, but there is no need for you to come and examine me. I am sure I shall be fine within a couple of hours. Mother? Father? May I be excused?"

by **Applepoisoneer** on Sat Nov 22, 2008 10:22 am

"Wait a moment Monseur de Antoinette." Rozenfae grinned, putting his hand in the air to stop him. He'd never really liked the boy much, not enough logic in his head to fill a trout pond. "Perhaps I shall ask you a few questions before you go... rest?" The man stood to his full height, almost shading 1/3 of the table. He stepped toward the young prince as his mother looked on with curiosity and a little concern.

"How long have you felt ill? Where might it hurt and what is the feeling? If I may?" He bowed slightly after his barage of questions, as though slightly mocking the brash royal.

by **St.Jimmy** on Sat Nov 22, 2008 1:37 pm

Armand's eyes widened briefly, and then he waved his hand in the air. "Don't concern yourself, Monsieur Rozenfae. It's only one of my headaches. I just need to rest. Tell him, Mother," he added petulantly. "You know how my headaches get..."

In fact, his "headaches" were just an excuse to escape from his dreaded lessons with Monsieur Dupont, who was very stern with him. Armand much preferred to be out on his horse, exploring the city and riding up to the walls.

by **Applepoisoneer** on Sat Nov 22, 2008 1:49 pm

"Your headaches have become more constant my darling." Queen Ophelle told him with a good amount of worry. "Perhaps you should let M. Rozenfae have a look? For my sakes at least."

Rozenfae grinned down at the boy and cracked the knuckles on one hand. "Chronic headaches you say? Perhaps a labotomy is in order?" The doctor had no intention of actually going through with the proceedure, but the bright glint in his eyes seemed to give away his enthusiasm.

by **St.Jimmy** on Sat Nov 22, 2008 1:58 pm

Armand's eyes widened in alarm. "You know, I think it's fading already," he said. "You see, I told you there was no need for alarm, Monsieur Rozenfae. It is definitely going away now, but perhaps I should lie down anyway, until it is completely gone?" he added, with a final hopeful stab at being able to escape. He was confident it would work; perhaps a little too confident. He smiled at his mother in an attempt to have her agree.

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