Manon's Ascension

Experience Interrupted

Experience Interrupted

"Felicie," Manon greeted just as eagerly as she had at the ball the day before yesterday, but with much more warmth and genuine affection. There was no crowd to play to as the only other people in the room were Cy and Jacques who were shaking hands more formally beside them.

They hadn't been able to meet yesterday, since Felicie and Cy were still recovering from the ball – they had been amongst the last to leave - while Manon and Jacques had a great deal of work to do. So, instead, they were meeting today.

"You look like trash, Manon," Felicie laughed, holding her at arm's length.

"I can't wear a ballgown every day," she responded coolly, laughing herself.

"Says who?" Felicie cocked a brow, putting a hand on her hip as she posed. "And just because you're not wearing a ballgown doesn't mean you can't look your best. Behold! Set your eyes on my glory and weep. And be inspired to improve your wardrobe."

Manon looked at Felicie's flashy, sunburst colored half dress and couldn't deny that, though the outfit was clearly casual, it was also beautiful.

"Being a queen is more than signing matters of state and holding fancy parties. I thought I taught you better than that," Felicie sighed, only a bit dramatically. "You have to be a queen and, to that end, you have to look like a queen. Shallow though it may seem, people do in fact judge by looks first and, since you won't meet most of them, that could be the only way they judge you."

"I mean, yeah," Manon looked down at her plain gown with the large, poofy sleeves. "But I need to hide my daggers."

"Then tell your seamstress to make sure the daggers can't be seen."

"They're supposed to be secret daggers, Felicie. Hard for them to be secret when my seamstress and her entire team know about them."

"That's where you're short sighted," Felicie poked her forehead, pushing her back. "You pick a seamstress just for you. Someone dedicated to your fashion only. They learn your likes, your dislikes, your preferences for cut and style, they know your measurements perfectly off the top of their head. And since they're yours and only yours, they are completely dependent upon you for their living. Pay them well, treat them better, they'll be loyal for life and they'll guard your secrets closer than they guard their own."

Manon looked thoughtful. Felicie just nudged her.

"Trust me. I've been doing this a long time and my seamstress is one of my greatest sources of gossip, but I give her so much good business, she never tells a soul anything. As queen, your wardrobe needs to be so varied and impressive, you can have one all to yourself."

"I'll think about it," Manon nodded, admitting that it might be a good idea. "But that's not really what we're here to talk about."

She looked over to Cy and Jacques, both men were grinning at them. Cy was looking a little less ostentatious today, but he was still dripping in gold and jewels.

"It's good to see you, your majesty," he said, his words formal but his expression playfully affectionate as he bowed just slightly.

"Hello, Cy," she greeted with a smile. "You don't have to bow to me, you know that."

He stood straight. "Of course not. But this is a momentous thing. I'm proud of you. I knew when I met you before that you were going to do great things. And you, Jacques! Getting yourself such an impressive wife. You're a very lucky man."

"I'm well aware," Jacques said, looking directly at her, his eyes shining with approval, sending a wave of warmth over her body.

"That's part of what I want to talk to you about though," Cy said, turning from them to lead everyone further into the drawing room they had chosen for this meeting. "My queen sends her apologies for sending me so late, but she did have a reason."