The Honourable Thirteen

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"I'm certain of it; Lord Bente is cultivating rumours to deface Lady Alicia's standing in the coming winter season. He fears she will secure the attentions of Lord Damas's heir and weaken the possibility of a marriage between the heir and his own daughter," Princess Zola said as she walked into the private drawing room of the royal family where only the family and their most intimate servants were permitted.

"Well that would explain why I've been hearing so many contrasting rumours about her and her family," Prince Thiago said from his seat by the fire, slumped in his armchair.

"Alicia is the sweetest of ladies," Princess Daphne said, looking up from her sheet music, sat at the piano, "There's never a bad word to say about her."

"You think every lady is the sweetest, Daph," Prince Sasha said as he walked passed, rolling his eyes.

"I do not," Daphne said.

"Wait, you're correct. You think everyone is the sweetest," Sasha said. "Including that fiancé-not-fiancé of yours."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Daphne snapped.

"Alexander, don't bully your sister," his mother cut in from across the room, her use of his full name warning him to quit it.

"Sorry, mamochka," Sasha said quickly, right before he stuck his tongue out at Daphne – her replying in kind.

Baroness Leonilla turned her attention away from the royal youth and returned it to the long table she sat at with the king and the women who made up The Honourable Thirteen.

The Honourable Thirteen comprised of the thirteen mothers of the royal children – though there were no longer thirteen alive to sit at the table.

The high-backed chair at the foot of the long oval table stood empty, shrouded in black gauze.

The seat at the head of the table belonged to King Antoine and the other twelve were filled by the twelve surviving Honourables.

They were in the middle of discussing all the titbits of information they, their children and their servants had gathered throughout the day while talking to or serving courtiers, keeping a firm hand on the goings-on of the court and country.

'There is no weaker king than the king who does not know about the rebellion before the rebels do' – so stated by the Duchess Josephine, mother of three royal children and the crown prince.

"Within the next few weeks, the rest of court will be arriving," Lady Ananda was saying, pushing a stray lock of corkscrew black hair from her cheek and passing a sheet of parchment across the table to Lady Sophia.

"That will bring the number up to – what? – just under one thousand?" Lady Sophia said.

"There abouts," King Antoine said.

"You realise a great number of foreign dignitaries will be attending along with those from the kingdom?" Lady Elodie said.

"Of course," Antoine said, looking at her in confusion, the comment being common knowledge.

Elodie let out a sigh and looked across to Josephine for help.

Josephine rolled her satin blue eyes and gave Antoine a hard look.

"You also realise that almost all our children are within suitable marrying age and we really should start looking into possible matches within other royal families or the high nobility," she said, her voice low and Antoine was already shaking his head.

"They're not ready," he said, his voice just as low, glancing across the large room towards the children.

Any one of them could be considered for advantages marriages – even little Genevieve and Dax. At fifteen they could be engaged to powerful noble families.

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