"She remembered the day she had first been presented at court. A blossom of youth she had been, delicate to look upon until she opened her mouth to speak out. Even then, her thoughts and opinions were not appreciated. Being fully aware of this, the young girl had devised an ingenious plan to mark her entrance into the world of nobles, the world of luxury, the world of kings, emperors, queens and empresses.
The royal family was long washed out, faded, reduced to clinging onto their void title and infertile lands with castles that barely stood. It was known. The king, demented by age, was hanging on grimly, as if death meant more pain instead of peace of mind. He refused to give in to the gout that had spread through his once-strong and admired legs, to give in to the forgetfulness that made him a laughing stock and to all the other diseases that plagued him. His wife, the Queen Consort, was a dried up flower, once beautiful and vivacious like a young sparrow in the spring time, now dragged down by the ever-demanding life at court. She no longer sat straight on the throne that had been carved with her name and title and she rarely ever attended jousts and feasts. The two sons they had given life to fared no better than the old couple. The first in line to the throne was loud and rash, a womanizing idiot who had inherited his father's thighs and passion for hunting. He was far more interested in making a good kill than preoccupying his young mind with the welfare of the kingdom that one day he would preside over. His younger brother had been born two months early and as a result, he was never right in the head. He preferred the company of dogs to the company of men. The adolescent boy seemed gentle enough, but there were times when the echo of his manic screams could be heard throughout the castle and beyond. The boy was either bursting with glee or sitting in his bed, weeping like a newborn. When asked why, he would point to the only window in his room. It was rumoured that a beautiful bride-to-be had once resided in that very same room. The night before her wedding to the then heir to the throne, she had donned her white gown and thrown herself to oblivion. It was prophesied that the young prince would one day be claimed by death the same way.
But he was not part of any of her plans for the future. She was going to make herself known to the capable members of the royal family and she was going to imprint her image in their minds forever. All she needed was to heed her arrogance and sweeten it with grace.
When announced, she remembered taking two steps, walking straight into the light, and pausing briefly before continuing her journey to be presented to the royal family. The crowd gasped at her insolence. Without wiping the seductive smirk from her face, the young lady advanced towards the thrones. The king, the queen and both their sons were as shocked as the rest of the onlookers, nobles and servants alike. She took a deep bow that lasted several seconds. Then she raised her eyes to look upon those who would soon become her kin. It was written in their faces.
No one had dared to wear purple, the colour of royalty, for 200 years. And yet, here she stood, clad in purple and gold from head to toe.
Instead of losing her head as many would have done, the lady rose to the highest honours of the country. Then, as promised by a wise woman she had once encountered in her travels through Hungary, the Lady became a Queen."
E.
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