Several hours later, we reached the roads of Roche. I only knew this due to the change of sound outside the carriage, the bustle of traffic around us growing steadier. Voices carried outside the carriage.

Back home in Rosailles when I had passed through Verenice, people had gathered to see me off. There had been cheers and music and merrymaking;  a festival held in my honor. The reception in Roche upon my arrival was  very different.

"You leeches! Keep raising taxes and we'll have nothing left to give you. Here, take this too! I know you'll come looking for it soon enough anyway," yelled a belligerent voice from beyond the carriage. A moment later, something smacked against the wall beside me. I jumped, but Jourdon barely even flinched, his lips twitching slightly.

A scuffle broke out, a soldier detaining the angry man.

"Marrying a witch!" Another voice called out, a woman. "Spineless idiots. What have those angel-loving bitches ever done for us? Killed our fathers--our sons! I will never support her!"

More voices chimed in. More anger. Some were frustrated over high taxes. Others yelled about the poor year they'd had, some of the mines drying up, and less work available. But most yelled about me.

"That red-haired bitch wears the blood of our families!"

"She should be hunted and killed, like the good old days!"

"She should be locked in our prison, not sitting out throne!"

More anger. More frustration. I could sense the crowd growing restless. I swallowed, tying my fingers in knots in my lap. I knew I had my soldiers out there but...

I looked up at Jourdon, his lips curled as he gazed back at me. There was a darkness to his eyes...

If his people came after me, would he stop them?

Just as the tension of the crowd teetered on the verge of a breaking point, the ground beneath the carriage smoothed out. The sounds of the angry crowd faded, but its effects lingered.

My stomach churned with nerves. I should have expected a certain level of dissent upon my arrival. I had never expected everyone to love me. I knew this was an enemy kingdom. But the vitriol... the rage.

There was an unrestrained edge to Garnette's people that went deeper than just my arrival. It had built steadily over the years. It was only a matter of time until it burst through the seams and created something much more dangerous. And now I was the perfect target for all of their ire.

I swallowed and tried to calm myself, looking anywhere but at Jourdon, fearing what else I would find in his expression. I knew Darren was out there, somewhere, and took in a  deep, placating breath as I prepared myself to see the Roche Palace.  At least I was not completely alone.

The carriage came to a stop, and the soldiers started calling out orders,  men quickly moving to start unpacking their mounts. I could hear the Garnetti palace guards directing my new arrivals where to go. The door to the carriage opened to reveal Jourdon's footman.

Jourdon moved out the door first, turning to me. He seems to think for a moment, before holding out a hand to me. Maybe it was a show for the people I could hear outside, but I  accepted it. But his hesitation still weighed on me. This wasn't going to be easy.

I had thought meeting Jourdon would be the next step toward peace, but today I learned that peace was still something not quite in reach. Winning over Jourdon would be the first step. Once I had him in my corner, maybe he could help me convince the people.

His hand was calloused and rough, scratching against my gloves. He pulled me out of the carriage, and the gathered courtiers and servants feasted their eyes on me, like a gathered group of feral birds. Behind them, I glimpsed the  Roche Palace for the first time.

My first impression was that it was very black. Tall spires of obsidian and ebony reached up, like giant spears carved from stone embedding themselves in Garnette's grey and darkening sky. The palace shone dully in the muted light, as piercing and as imposing as an unmovable rock.

Next,  the smell of Garnette overwhelmed me. I had to hide behind my hand as I  coughed, not expecting the air to be so thick and smoky. A chill permeated it, winding its way under my skirts and thick traveling coat. I  sucked in a steadying breath, and looked around, finding many dark-eyed gazes upon me. The maids all wore uniforms made of greys and dull blues and blacks, making it hard to tell one person from the next. Jourdon held out his arm to me, and I took it as he led me up the steps. Ill-concealed whispers followed us.

"Look at her hair, have you ever seen anything like it?"

"Now I see why she is called the Rose of Rosailles."

"Is that how all Roserian's look?"

"She looks like a child, is she really of eighteen years? Like a doll, look at that round face... are those freckles?"

I  schooled my expression, trying to ignore them. We moved up the steps to the palace doors. Two men stood next to them, both wearing simple black uniforms, their short dark hair parted deeply at the side and slicked back off their faces, tall black heels on their feet as they stood like motionless statues with puffed-up white cravats at their necks.

Two men followed carrying my trunks. My handmaids had gathered behind me, following us at a respectful distance. With all the eyes on me, it felt more like a parade. Once we were at the top of the steps, Jourdon paused beside me. He looked down at me, his lips tight.

"The servants will see to it that you and your company are shown to your quarters and settled. I apologize for the abruptness, but I really must  return to my mother."

I smiled to hide my disappointment. "Yes, of course."

"I'll come escort you to dinner," he told me stiffly, before letting go of my arm and quickly departing through the open doors. I  hesitated, feeling lost for a moment. Like I had been dropped upon the palace doorstep, nothing more than a piece of luggage.

A servant, dressed in the simple gray garb of the Garnetti palace, stepped forward, dipping her dark head in a low curtsy.

"Your Highness, I am Jeanette. I will be attending you so long as you will have me."

She bowed until I gestured for her to straighten, keeping her eyes trained downwards. She was pretty, in a plain way. None of the cosmetics of the surrounding courtiers, who dressed in dark jewel-toned dresses, their hair made up of dark shades, bright red rouge painted in circles on their faces, ears dripping rubies and emeralds.

Where Rosailles had been splashed with reds and golds and whites, Garnette was its darker, more secretive cousin. The young maid's clean appearance was a relief from all the glittering around me.

I smiled. "Thank you. I am sure you will tend me well."

She turned, careful to not meet my gaze. "If you would follow me, Your  Highness."

The interior of the palace was unlike the outside. In contrast to the light, pastel colors of pinks and blues I was used to in Rosailles, everything in Garnette was decorated with winding decals of flowing gold, accenting the dark black walls.

Masterfully painted portraits of their past kings and warriors took up the entire roof as we passed under it, a sky of stormy black portraying men encrusted in gold and red. Beautiful garnet stones glittered from the walls, and I had to catch my breath. Garnet was the stone of the  Garnetti, known for its lethal ability to block magic. Though I had never once felt the tingle of my bloodline in my veins, I grew uneasy staring into the many faces of the stones surrounding me. They glittered red, reminding me of the blood the Roserian people--my people--had shed.

Jeanette made no attempt to speak to me,  silently carrying out her task. Soon I found myself in a quieter branch of the palace, winding down long halls to reach a set of golden stairs. At the top we passed by a set of guards, who stood eerily still, their dark uniforms nearly melding into the shadows of the hallway. Had it not been for the way their eyes followed us, I might have thought them to be meticulously carved stone statues.

She led me down a hall to a set of black and gold doors, a long bright red carpet running the length of the floor with golden tassels at either end. We stopped before a set of doors.

"These are your rooms," Jeanette said. She pointed to the rooms further down, back the way we had come. "Those there are His Royal Highness's Chambers. Once  you are wed, they have doors that can be unlocked so the two chambers can be joined."

If such topics made her shy, she was careful to keep her expression clear. She pointed further up the hall, where a set of doors took up the other end of the hall, opposite where we had come from.  Faint music drifted from them, male laughter carrying through the thick walls. "Over there are Prince Pierre's chambers. The King and Queen have a wing of their own."

"I see."

It sounded like a party was well underway within the younger prince's chambers. As we watched, the door swung open, and I saw a female courtier leave on the arm of another, her bright red lipstick smeared across her face. Her ties were loosened, the dark gems she wore in her hair falling out of place as she nuzzled into the neck of the other woman.

Behind them, I saw the figures of two men leaning forward, one pale, one golden—the latter missing his shirt as he kissed the other. As if sensing my gaze, his eyes connected with mine, dark black kohl making his heavy-lidded sapphire eyes glitter even at a distance. A smirk curled at his lipstick-smeared mouth as he leaned forward to kiss his lover again, clearly reveling in the knowledge he had an audience. A long-fingered hand ran down the other  man's chest--

Just as quickly as the scene had appeared, it was gone. The door shut and the two women's footsteps carried away down the stairs.

The doors behind me clicked open, and I spun, still flushed, to see Sabine holding them for me. She watched with a blank expression as she, Jeanette, and the other maids that had traveled with me stood waiting.

Beyond her was a parlor that contained another set of doors leading to the bedchamber. Darren and another one of the soldiers that had traveled with me stood waiting. Men came in carrying my trunks and placed them on the dark onyx floor.

Where the rest of the palace had been dark and unfamiliar, it was clear that someone had attempted to make my quarters as welcoming to me as possible. An extravagant gold framed bed sat on one side of my bedchamber as I entered it, made up of red silken bed sheets that were embroidered with golden roses.

The walls of every room, though as black as the rest of the palace, held Roserian depictions of Angels, their flowing golden hair and sun-bronzed skin giving some much-needed light to the room. I sighed with relief, finding comfort in the things that reminded me of home.

Once everything was settled all the other maids left the room, retreating to their own chambers adjacent to mine. Only Sabine lingered. Though her features were hard, betraying little beyond her severe gaze, there was something softer about her today.

"Your Highness," she said her hand on the door.  Our gazes connected, and I was reminded of how unlike a maid she was. Jeanette, like the other maids, had always been careful to meet my gaze. Reserved, polite. But Sabine was impetuous, bold. She had no qualms about looking directly at me, defying me.

And for some reason, after today, having someone look directly at me— to see me, was a relief.

"Get some rest," she said, tone softer than it had been in the carriage.  Those four days seemed so long ago now. "It has been a long journey, and  I suspect it will also be a long night."

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Hello readers!

As I now have five chapters uploaded, I think it will be easier for me to settle into an upload schedule. The easiest day for me to commit to is Friday. I will try to post a new chapter every Friday. Any extras will be uploaded when I have spare time!

Thank you to everyone that has read this far. Please comment and vote if you are enjoying it!

-Kat.xo