R̤̈Ä̤F̤̈Ä̤Ë̤L̤̈ burst into the Valliere armoury, his eyes running over all the men assembled; some were sparring, some were sharpening their weapons while others were punching an inanimate object which was held by their fellows. Then, he caught sight of the middle of the room, where a fight was going on and there was the person he was looking for; her hair was tied into a high ponytail, sweat matting the hair on her forehead and trickling down the sides. She was adorned in her normal attire: a burgundy shirt and a pair of brown breeches. In front of her was a youth in the same state of exertion, huffing and his fists extended towards Estelle, seeming to be on guard.

  However, at Rafael’s entrance, the youth seemed to have lost his focus as he hurriedly glanced at his direction, seeing who had come in with such a commotion. And it was then that Estelle swiped his legs and he fell on his behind with a thump!

  “When you are sparring, never get distracted by anything. I could have been your enemy and could have taken this chance to finish you off. Never repeat a folly like this again, am I clear?” Estelle gritted out as she watched the youth scramble up to his feet.

  “Aye, Majesty,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he fiddled with his fingers, his head facing the floor.

  “While speaking to me, you look me in the eye, cadet.” Immediately,  the cadet snapped up and looked at the Queen with a determined yet embarrassed look upon his countenance. “And speak like a soldier! Repeat what you said earlier,” she commanded.

  “Aye, Majesty!” the cadet spoke up this time and his voice echoed round the armoury. After nodding, while the cadet had saluted her, Estelle turned to Rafael, her face as blank as an unwritten piece of parchment. When he still stood there, not speaking, Estelle raised an eyebrow up at him prompting him to look up at her.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing here?” he asked, stepping closer towards her.

  “I’m training my men,” she answered simply, unwrapping the cloth round her fists and setting it on a stool next to her. “What do you want?” Straight to the point, no beating about the bushes. That was Estelle for him. But, he still couldn’t stop wondering what exactly he did to warrant himself such curtness.

  “I wished to speak to you,” he said, his face softening. Estelle inclined her head, motioning for him to say what he wished to say. But, Rafael looked around at the men watching their interaction and held in the words he wanted to spill out and shook his head. “In private,” he added. What he had expected, was for them to take a walk outside. Instead, Estelle raised her head to look at the males collected in the room and with a jerk of her head, they all stepped out wordlessly.

  “You know how to spar?” he asked, this time walking up to her and fingering the cloths that she had discarded. A puzzled look flitted across Estelle’s countenance; she certainly hadn’t been expecting this to be what he wanted to say.

  “Aye, along with swordsmanship, duelling and archery.” Yet another simple answer.

  “Do you think that you are a match for me though?” he asked, raising his brow at her in a challenging way, a devious smirk raising a side of his lips.

  “I think the real question is whether you are a match for me,” she countered, her eyes lighting up in what Rafael perceived to be arrogance.

  Arrogance? Well that is a first, he thought.

  “How about we try that out?” he asked, finally taking hold of the binding cloths and wrapping them round his fists. A smirk claimed its place on Estelle’s countenance as she took out more binding cloths from her pockets and wrapped them around her soft knuckles. Rafael could hardly believe whether those soft things could hit something without breaking or even bleeding. Once finished, they looked into each other’s eyes as they each took some few steps back and began circling each other.

  “Since you are female and are the weaker sex, I will take it easy on you,” he said imperatively, smirking once more. Slowly, Estelle shook her head as she drew nearer, forcing him to do the same as well, preparing to meet her head on.

  “I prefer it if you would start thinking whether your best is good enough,” she said, her smirk breaking out into a devious smile. Rafael lifted his fist and sent it barrelling towards Estelle, but instead, in a quick move, she crouched down, supported herself on one arm and swiped beneath his feet, making him fall on his buttocks with a resounding thud! on the marble floor. For a moment, he just sat there, blinking, his mind unsure of what had just occurred. Then, he looked around him and noticed he was on the floor and Estelle, still standing, hands on her hips with a knowing smile on her face. He had lost, the thought dawned on him with a vengeance.

  “Estelle – 1, Rafael – 0. All in a matter of mere moments,” she said, rubbing her hands. Cheeks flaming, Rafael quickly got up and launched himself into a defensive position.

  No, I am not letting her win this, he thought indignantly.

  Moments later, Rafael found himself lying on his back, having been defeated, for the third time all in a matter of minutes.

  Minutes! I couldn’t even drag it out!

  “Estelle – 3, Rafael – 0,” she said again, pride gleaming in her eyes. The first time, she had swiped his feet from beneath him, the second, she had sent a fist towards his stomach, punching the air out of his lungs and the third time, all it had taken was a pretty good right hook to his jaw that sent him down to the ground.

  Huffing, he lifted himself up to his feet––after swatting away Estelle’s hand when she offered to heave him up from the floor. Unknowingly, he avoided her gaze and looked away as he unwrapped the binding cloths around his hands. They had been of no use for he didn’t manage to land even a single fist on her person while she, on the other hand, landed plenty on him mercilessly.

  “You were saying?” she asked teasingly. Turning around, he faced her, trying to school his features into playfulness and not the deep-rooted embarrassment that he was currently feeling, though, unbeknownst to him, his lower lip formed into an adorable pout.

  “I only let you win because you’re my betrothed,” he mumbled, sending Estelle into a fit of laughter. Her laughter caused him to get out of his momentary embarrassment. The hypnotizing sound lulled him into the slight disagreement they had had days prior. It had been days since he had last talked to her, since she tended to avoid him nowadays and left to meet the citizens of the duchy all by herself or if he were to tag along, she would stay mum and ignore all his chances of starting a conversation. When he would knock upon her bedroom doors––despite it being very improper, he cared not a fig––she would send him off with a lame excuse.

  Only then did he remember the reason he had gone seeking her: he’d had enough of this passive-aggressive relationship of theirs.

  “Star,” he said, forcing her to look up at him and knocking her out of her laughing fit with the way his tone was serious all over sudden. “What did I do? Why do you avoid me? Did I harm you without knowing? Whatever it is, talk to me, mi corazon,” he pleaded, his tone soft and beseeching. He raised his eyes and let his gaze slide over to meet her cold, slate-grey ones.

  “Are you in cahoots with Duca Piero? I asked you that yesterday,” she asked and the thought sent his eyebrows skyrocketing. He stepped towards her, intending to take hold of her hands, but, she stepped back and he stopped, understanding her.

  “Heavens, no, mi corazon,” he answered quickly. Her eyes raked his face for any hint of deception, but, they found none. “Why can’t you just trust me?” he asked, his tone slightly breaking near the end. All of it––the ignorance, the avoiding and the keeping silent––it hurt him, he realized. They were going to get married. Wasn’t one of the basics for a lasting marriage trust? Why couldn’t she just trust him?

  Estelle stayed silent for a while, then spoke. “I don’t know you, Rafa. I don’t know who you used to be, who you are and who you will be. You cannot blame me for not trusting you.” she finally said.

  “You don’t know me? All I’ve ever done, Estelle, was to show you who I truly am. Have I ever done anything that could make you suspect me? Other than what you might assume? I know how much Martinians have hurt you, do you think I would ever go against you and do such a thing? The little faith that you have in me, it hurts, a lot,” he said, watching her intense gaze weaken. “You claim you do not know me, but, I am, always have been and always will be, Rafael.” He approached her and made a reach for her hand and he smiled when she did not back away. Rubbing circles with his thumbs at the back of her hands, his piercing gaze made her look up at his melting, gooey hazel gaze. “I accepted you as you are and never questioned you; can you not do the same thing?” he prompted.

  “I can,” she answered, craning her neck up to see his face much more. None of his charisma or charming composure was there. It was all replaced by an encompassing emotion that pushed away any other that craved to break through the surface: sincerity. His face, his eyes, the hands that were holding hers, they all showed how sincere he was at the moment and only then did she realize how much she had misjudged him.

  “But, will you?”

  “I will,” she answered, her gaze determined as she squeezed his hands, reciprocating her sincerity. Then, he smiled at her. That enfeebling, blinding smile of his that took the breath away from everyone; and at the moment, it took away hers as well.

   *~*~**~*~*

  Estelle was in her chambers in the evening, being aided by Colette in changing her attire and donning on a new one, when she received a note from a servant outside. With her brows furrowed, she opened the little envelope and found a squiggly, boyish handwriting on it with a few sentences written.

  Star, I wish to properly court you and treat you like the Queen that you are.

  Meet me outside your bedroom door at sundown for us to have a lovely dinner under the moonlight. It has come to my notice that Valliere has a remarkable weather and I do not plan for our visit here to go to waste.

  Dress in whatever you might like; you will look beautiful even if you were to be dressed in rags. I look forward to spending this lovely evening with you, mi corazon.

Yours truly,

  Rafa.

  “What would you like to wear, Majesty?” Colette asked, tearing Estelle out of her reverie. Blankly, she stared up at her and waved her hand dismissively.

  “Anything that is fitting for a ‘dinner under the moonlight’,” she said, quoting Rafael’s exact words while she stared down at the parchment.

  “Your betrothed has invited you for that?” Colette asked, seeming excited as if she were the one summoned for the dinner. Estelle nodded her head, stepping out of the changing screen in her black robe. “Oh, how awfully romantic!” Colette went on, moving over to her wardrobe and searching about for anything fitting to put Her Majesty in. To Estelle, the girl seemed awfully excited at the mention of such, and, she couldn’t help but sharing in her contagious excitement. A ‘dinner under the moonlight’? She had never had one of those before. Glancing out at the slightly darkening skies, she couldn’t help but wonder what Rafael had in mind. What had he planned? How would he be dressed like? And, most funny of all, would he expect her to wear breeches? Estelle smiled at the thought of seeing his disappointed face when she would dress in a frivolous ballgown.

  “I found just the perfect thing for you, Majesty!” Colette yelled, once again drawing Estelle out of her trance. She turned around and saw her holding out a navy blue day dress, short at the front and seeming to have a train at the back. Eyes crinkling, Estelle smiled and walked towards the dress; it was the newest Troyan fashion and soon, it would be all over the Realm. The leading fashion designer of Troyes had gifted Estelle the gown on her eighteenth birthday and she had worn it after the blowing of candles in her party and every female in the room went mad over the design and each ordering the same, however in different hues. Some had gawked at her exposed ankles as the lift at the front went up until her shins, exposing her perfect, long legs. She fingered the silk dress under her hands and nodded at Colette. Taking the signal, Colette led her to the changing screen and fastened on a corset and tied the strings on tight, as per usual. After finishing, she slipped on the light, navy dress over her being and tied the narrow, lace belt round Estelle’s svelte waist.

  Before helping her with her gloves and slippers, Colette braided Estelle’s hair in big braids that fell over her exposed shoulders. Why, the dress only had small strips of tulle to serve as the sleeves of her dress and at the front, it possessed a plunging, v-neck line and a simple cyan choker strapped around Estelle’s neck. After fussing about the wardrobe once more, Colette came out holding cyan, elbow-length gloves that seemed to be made of lace and a pair of navy, heeled slippers. Dutifully, she assisted Estelle in putting them on and led her to the vanity where she applied some rouge on Estelle’s perfect, pale skin, and dabbing some of it on her soft, pink lips. Throughout, Estelle stayed silent as Colette prepared her with a wide smile on her face. When done, she put on diamond ear-rings on Estelle’s ear-lobes and then opened the braids that she had tied on earlier.

  Estelle’s hair tumbled down her face in waves; she had been so used to seeing her hair so straight that at the sight of them in the looking glass, she held them out of her face and touched them in disbelief. Seeing the apparent shock on Estelle’s face, Colette smiled proudly and parted it at the front. “My maman taught me that little trick since us Troyans’ hair is always straight. That is why my hair is always in braids. The longer they stay braided, the wavier they will be once opened,” she confessed, helping Estelle out of her chair and led her to the full-body looking glass and watched on as Estelle looked at herself in awe.

  “You are talented, ma cherie,” she murmured and in response, Colette smiled proudly and inclined her head in gratitude. The sun was slowly setting and pink light streamed in from the large windows of Estelle’s bedroom. Gasping, Colette gently nudged Estelle and jerked her head towards the door.

  “You don’t want to keep a man waiting, Majesty,” she said with a giggle as she shooed Estelle away excitedly. Straightening her posture, Estelle marched out of the door and opened it to see Rafael standing outside his bedroom, leaning against the door, looking at the grandfather clock down the hall. The torches in the corridor had been lighted and illuminated his clean-shaven face and his angular jaw and long neck. Unconsciously, Estelle stared at him, and for the first time, she had to admit, he was a very handsome man. In relief, she realised that she wasn’t the only one who had bedecked herself highly for that dinner.

  Rafael looked immaculate. His was dressed in form-fitting dark-green breeches, black, leather boots that went up to his shins, a near transparent white shirt that exposed his chest muscles with the two top buttons being left open and an emerald green coat that concealed his broad shoulders and hard, arm muscles. Hearing the clicking of a door, Rafael glanced ahead of him and laid his eyes on Estelle. Oh, was she just ravishing. Stepping towards her, he raked his eyes over her person: from her beautifully, wavy, jet-black curls, to her exposed, unblemished shoulders, to her narrow waistline, to her exposed legs and heeled slippers. How he appreciated every inch of her being. She was beautiful under the candlelight.

  “You are a vision,” he murmured, bowing down and taking Estelle’s hand in his to place a very lingering kiss on the soft knuckles that had sent him to the ground earlier that day. The compliment made Estelle’s face flush and she wondered why. Over the years, she received ample compliments on her beauty, but, never was she called a vision. Rising up, Rafael delighted in the rosy hue of her cheeks and smiled that brilliant smile of his that made her feel weak on the knees. Before, none of Rafael’s handsomeness had ever struck Estelle so hard, but, now, she couldn’t help but wonder how could she have not noticed all his striking appearances that left ladies sighing in awe.

  “Shall we?” he asked, looking down at her as she linked arms with him.

  “Aye, we shall,” she answered, regaining her confidence and keeping up with his wide strides. Whilst chatting about how he had planned their dinner, Rafael led her down the corridor, out a side-door in the parlour and into a garden illuminated by red candles that were spread all out strategically aiding the setting sun in lighting up the area. And in the middle of the garden stood a small, round table with a red table-cloth laid atop it and two glasses of wine stood on top of the table, the red liquid shimmering next to the candle situated at the middle of the table.

  Leading her to the seat on the right, Rafael pulled out the chair for her and she sat down, whispering a small thank you to him. He walked to his side and sat. Leaning on the back rest, he glanced behind him and called for the servant struggling to make herself disappear behind the bushes. At the summon, she straightened her white apron and stepped forward.

  “Oui, Votre Altesse?” she asked, her voice soft.

  “Serve us the first course, sil-vous-plait,” Rafael responded and the girl rushed away to relay the orders to the waiters. “She is serving as our chaperone,” he added when the girl had disappeared.

  “Rafa, this . . . all this looks so beautiful,” she said breathlessly as she took in her surroundings. Little rose flowers were scattered all over the well-manicured grass and a lemony scent permeated the air; for that was what Rafael smelled like. For some reason, his scent seemed to assail her nostrils. It smelled like lemon zest, yet had the musk of the pines in the woods. He smelled like the summer to her, since the more she continued to inhale his musk, the low-lying hints of a flowery smell tinted the air.

  “You look more beautiful. Especially under the moonlight,” said he, looking at her with his gooey hazel eyes, melting her as well. She blushed once more at the compliment and looked into his gaze. She knew not what to say as she looked into his eyes; why was she developing these queer feelings lately? Especially this evening. One could not guess that she had been ignoring him for seven days. And, though she tried to conceal it, she missed him. Missed his smooth baritone, missed his chuckles and guffaws and most of all, his sight-depriving smile. Nervously, she wrapped her hand around the neck of the wine glass and took a sip and watched Rafael do the same over the rim of her glass.

  “Your first course, Votre Majeste et Votre Altesse,” a man dressed in black livery spoke, drawing them out of their trance, his voice thick with a Troyent accent. Bowing down, he placed two plates of piping-hot meat on the table and refilled their wine glasses then proceeded to leave. Unwrapping their napkins, they each placed them on their laps. Rafael shocked Estelle by reaching over to her plate and cut her meat into small, cubical pieces then plucked one with a fork and dangled it in front of her mouth. Estelle cocked a brow at him and shook her head with a smile on her lips.

  “How chivalrous. You do know I can dine just fine by myself,” she said, eyeing the sweet-smelling piece of meat in front of her.

  “I am well aware, mi corazon,” he said, flashing her a smirk and in the meantime, shaking the piece of meat in a teasing manner. Acquiescing, Estelle opened her mouth and bit the piece of meat and after a few moments of chewing, she swallowed, relishing in the sweet and savoury taste of the meat. Rafael watched her with a smile and then put the fork down, to cut a piece of his meat as well. Taking the chance, Estelle seized her fork and went on eating the meat alternating it with an occasional sip of wine. Together they dined, with it being accompanied by chatter in between bites.

  After their last course ––a plate of strawberry cake –– Rafael took hold of the napkin that he had placed on his lap and rubbed his mouth whilst Estelle did the same. However, she missed a spot, just below her lip. Standing up and leaning over the table, Rafael stretched out his hand and brought it to take hold of her right cheek. She flinched, looking up at his eyes anxiously and to calm her down, Rafael smiled at her. No, not a blinding smile, but a warm one filled with the kindness and understanding that mirrored his eyes. Softly, he brushed his thumb across her cheek, causing goosebumps to appear on her neck.

  After rising to his full height and dusting his clothes, he went over to her side and pulled out her chair once more, only this time to assist her in stepping out. Taking his arm again, Estelle was led down the garden and this time, she took the time to appreciate the beautiful skies up above.

  Stars skittered all over, up until the horizon, twinkling every once in a while in the darkness. The full moon was high up and filled the entire garden in its glorious light, casting the lilies, the dahlias and the chrysanthemums in the garden in a foreign light. Suddenly, Rafael stopped and turned to her with what she assumed to be nervousness in his eyes.

  “I composed a poem for you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand while his right hand searched the pockets in his breeches fervently.

  “I would very much like to hear it,” she replied, lifting the corners of her mouth up into a smile and holding the hand that was rubbing his neck to calm him down. Just as he found the little scrunched up piece of parchment, he looked up at her glowing slate-grey eyes, cast into a bluish light in the moonlight. Her touch cooled down his skittering nerves and he breathed in to calm himself. He took hold of her hand and squeezed it as he inhaled and began.

“Your hair,

like the clouds of the night, billowing about,

in this dream, you bring me in and out.

Your eyes,

as bright as the twinkling star that you are,

blinking, drinking in everything around you,

while I, on the other hand, take in everything that you are.

“A woman,

poised and graceful in all you do,

making me fall for you,

every waking day,

every resting night.

But no,

‘tis not just your extremities, mi corazon.

“‘Tis the wonderful soul that you are, the inner you,

the most beautiful part of you,

your heart.

Filled with kindness,

albeit a tad of shyness,

I beg, cast away your coldness,

your indifference,

your fears,

and open up that gem of a heart you have to me,

I promise and I vow to never hurt you,

wound you,

break you.

Trust me and I’ll make you the happiest woman in the Realm,

my darling Estrella,” he finished and gazed up into Estelle’s eyes with a hidden emotion that she couldn’t quite decipher. But she would; that she knew and she also knew that she wanted, not only to know the emotion that he was holding back at the moment, but this impeccable man standing in front of her as well.

  “It was marvellous,” she praised him and he laughed nervously.

  “‘Tis a tad different to the ones I’m used to composing. I am quite inexperienced when it comes to this area,” he confessed, still rubbing his arm on the back of his neck. To that, she raised her brows up in question.

  “No, you’re really good at composing poems. How are you so skilled?” asked she, truly wanting to know.

  “You could say I had plenty of room for practice,” said he, his face bursting into tomato-red. Not that he would truly tell her the reason why he was experienced; he never wanted her to know about that, ever. To his delight, she didn’t prod, she simply smiled up at him and squeezed his hand tighter and whispered a thank you. Together, they stood under the millions of stars above them and the shining moon as a streak of light passed through the sky.

  “Make a wish,” Estelle whispered, looking up at him with a tender emotion.

  “To be with you all my life,” he whispered under his breath and Estelle thankfully did not hear it.

This might be my favourite chapter. Emphasis on 'might'. I've got big plans for these two.

On another note, I'm really sorry I couldn't post this yesterday. It was just a busy day and I am travelling across the country in the time being. Another update coming tomorrow!

Oh and if the poem is a little shitty, I'm not that good with writing poems :(. I gave it my best though. Hope you enjoyed :)

Glossary:

Ma nouvelle bien-aimée: My new beloved.