(XII) Returned

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Land was a welcoming sight as the large boat approached the shore

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Land was a welcoming sight as the large boat approached the shore. They had spent nearly three days at sea for their journey from Ireland to France. The ship that Tulia resided on was smaller than usual as her belongings had been sent days previous to her arrival. With the attacks on her fleet from Elizabeth she could not risk arriving with a great flamboyance. 

Tulia's red hair had been coloured with black and brown dyes to remove the fiery hue. Her clothing was the same, black and brown material fitted tightly against her body, a stark contrast to the loose colourful clothing that she wore when she was in France all those months ago.

The young Queen had grown up a lot since her leaving France in mid November, although only three months had passed she had learnt a great deal about ruling and the work that goes into being Queen. Over the past months Tulia had not just been Queen, she had been the King. Fighting for her country and healing men that were caught in the crossfire. Although the nobles of Ireland were strongly against the idea of a woman fighting it rose morale with the soldiers, they were sick of fighting other people battles, it made her army stronger when they knew that she was with them every step of the way. 

Lady Adelaide had reminded her that such 'outrageous' behaviour would not wash down well with the French and that she should keep her kingly attitude to herself if she wants to fit right back in at court. Tulia agreed that the Lady of Dresden was correct but just because she was not permitted to fight did not mean she would be unarmed, staying in the place that she was attacked did not scare her but she would not make the same mistakes as she had previous. She would not believe that she had no power to protect herself, she would not believe that the only people that could protect her were the men that were payed to do so. She would accept their help but no longer would she rely on it. 

Catherine watched as the young Queen descended from her ship, instantaneously she knew that the girl that she was seeing now was not the one that had left them in a hurry in the November storms. She was stronger, more mature, she looked like a Queen. 

"Queen Tulia Byrne of Ireland." The announcer shouted to the royals and nobles that had surrounded the walk way. 

Looking around, Tulia noted a few familiar faces in the crowds. Kenna, Lola, Greer, Bash, Conde. She smiled lightly at them as she passed on her way towards the King and Queen of France. There was a strange atmosphere hanging over the French palace. The nobles held polite smiles as she passed by the Royals seemed indifferent. 

Catherine's sharp eyes were analysing her to no end. Trailing over ever inch of her body, scrutinising every move that she made. This judgemental stare would've made her uneasy a few months previous, but no longer did she worry for the opinion of people that had no effect on her country. 

Claude was stood uninterested next to her mother, she seemed entirely distracted by literally anything else that she looked at. Tulia did not expect anything different from the younger girl and therefore did not dwell. 

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