Rows of scented roses and lillies filled the courtyard of the Louvre Palace, where a reception of fifty residents awaited. The nobles stood out in puffier gowns decorated with jewels from the servants, who stood on side lines in brown and white aprons.

All the ladies wore a cross of different rubies an pearls, their faith and message to the newly arrived foreigners made clear.

The only comfort Afsana could take was the fact that she had two of her childhood friends to accompany her on the journey. Her lady-in-waiting, Lubna behind her, and her bodyguard  Zia in front. With these two with her, she could even bare the fact the Nadim had been assigned to be her new bodyguard when the old one died at sea.

"Her majesty, Princess Afsana Jahan Begum of Mughal." A page yelled.

A trumpted was blown, before the four of them began to walk towards the hosts.

The closer they got, the more her heart clenched at the sight of the French and Navarrian court. Most of the noble ladies were scrutinising Afsana and Lubna's attires, whilst the men frowned at her guards, who gripped the top of their khandas tighter in response.

When there was  meter of distance between the two parties, a small man stepped forward and bowed to the rajkumari.

"Your majesty, I am Olivier Cosson, the Duke of Paris." The man said. "Welcome to the Kingdom of France, we hope your stay here will form good relations between the nations."

Afsana drew up a polite smile. "I hope so too, and please do thank the Kings of both France and Navarre for their hospitality."

A murmur breaks through the crowd as they find themselves surprised by the foreigner's ability to speak their language so clearly.

The entire ship was given lessons in French, so they may be able to communicate in the new land, with the Princess and her lady receiving extra lessons in etiquette and culture.

"Your majesty, may I present Prince Francis the Dauphin of France." Duke Cosson said.

No one had prepared the rajkumari for what happened next.

A small boy, in black clothes lined with fur and a head full of blonde curls, bowed to her but did not raise his head to look at her.
Looking over at his small frame, Afsana noted that he could not be any older than her brother Akbar.

Behind her, Lubna attempted to quiten her giggles. Rather poorly.

Masking her shock quickly, the rajkumari bowed. "Your majesty, it's a pleasure. May I ask how old you are?"

Francis kept his head bowed down.

"The dauphin is six, your majesty." Duke Cosson answered for him.

That meant there was nearly a decade of difference between the two of them. For a groom to be older was not unusual, but for it to be the other way round was almost unheard of, discounting the story of the Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him). 

The rajkumari lifted her eyes towards the crowd once again and waited for her second suitor to step forward, but no one did. She looked at the Duke questioningly.

"The Count of Champagne is occupied, your majesty." Duke Cosson said. "But he shall meet you later, during your welcoming feast."

This was meant to be her welcoming, so her suitor must've had a good reason to not greet her. At least that's what she hoped, because given that looking at Francis reminded of her own brother, she was counting on her second suitor to be a good man.

After being introduced to other French and Navarrian nobles, they were given a tour of the Louvre Palace, where they'd be residing until she chose a husband.

As the Duke showed off the roses in the well groomed gardens leading up to the entrance, Lubna leaned in towards her ear.

"At least you won't have to worry about pleasing Francis in bed." She whispered.

After months of travelling at sea and hours on the bumpy roads to the Louvre, the last thing the Rajkumari wanted to do was attend a feast.

Nonetheless, she prepared for a long night of food and polite conversations.

The yalek she'd chose was a deep mahogany, like the wine the French produced from the vineyards they took much pride in, with intricate hand sewn patterns.
It felt soft against her newly washed skin, yet when she stood it's weight made her already tired feet want to sink to the ground.

Lubna helped to apply kajal and then shade her lips red with paan.

Waiting outside her chambers were the royal bodyguards.

Zia standing ready to protect and serve, muscle folded over muscle on his entire body, covered in white cloth and brown turban over his brown waves.

Nadim, however, took a much more casual approach to his duty. He grinned at the two girls as they exited, leaning against the wall.

"You look like the finest jewels of our land, rajkumari." Nadim said, arching off the wall. "Too bad your suitor the Count of Champagne is busy chasing European ladies, one of which was in his chambers this morning when he was meant to greet you."

The Rajkumari defiantly raised her chin at the smirking guard. She had never liked or trusted him and could not just simply take his word. "And how would happen to know that?"

"Because the same lady had me in her chambers a few hours ago." Nadim smirked.

That part she had no trouble believing. The boy was known to be a frequent visitor of the brothels back home and to have managed to bed a woman already was no new record.

"You must stop being lured by sin, brother." Zia said.

"Or luring others towards sin." Afsana said.

Their talk was cut short when they noticed some of the court servants approaching. The boys positioned themselves in front of the two girls and together, they were escorted to the feast.

Circa a hundred candles lit up the hall, tables gushing with food and drinks.

Some men were circled around a table playing an intense game of cards, and the winning side would slam their fist on the table in celebrations.
One of the younger men had a woman in his lap, the collar wide enough for her bosom to threaten to spill whenever she laughed.

The entire place was riddled with sin.

On the other side of the banquet she spotted Francis, his nurse attempting to get him away from the cakes.
The prince was determined to stay and stuck his tongue out to her before taking another bite of sweet sponge.

It was ridiculous to think she may have to marry such a little boy. But the possibility were only widened by the fact that her other suitor was yet to show himself.

"Your majesty, we're honoured you could join us." Duke Cosson appeared before her, blocking her view of Francis.

"Thank you for this lovely feast." Afsana said.

She then noticed that beside the Duke was another man, with green eyes watching her as his thin lips formed an unconvincing smile.
The Rajkumari recognized him as the man entertaining the woman on his lap moments ago, and felt a pang of disgust at the very sight of him.

The Empire required her to form good relations with all nobles, but she had no plans to associate with such men.

"Princess Afsana, may I present Louis Blois, Count of Champagne."

• • •

Our young princess is indeed a bit judgemental. Also I am aware sounds more like it's at a brothel rather than at court, but I am exaggerating.