I FOUND MYSELF staring into the unblinking eyes of Countess Emeline and wondering why she had summoned me.

Once again, I marvelled at how close I was to a member of the nobility—close enough to smell the rosemary and lavender drenching her patterned gown. I recognized the garment, for I had laundered it myself. It was trimmed with fur, its sleeves decorated with many small blue diamonds.

The grand chamber where the Count and Countess slumbered was as exquisite as I had imagined it to be. The walls were thick and far apart, leaving a large room that comprised a curtained four-poster bed, a tall wardrobe, and a wooden chest containing gowns and tunics. The floors were strewn with various herbs and flowers, making the ground comfortable for tired feet. Colourful tapestries hung from the ceiling and covered part of the floor—cloaking the chamber with warmth.

In contrast to her pleasing surroundings and lovely attire, the Countess appeared downtrodden. The rouge painting her cheeks could not conceal the sharp pallor underneath, while her eyes were red-rimmed and tired. She was beautiful, but when close, one could see the age carved into her face. Not even the richest sheep fat could disguise the lines sketched around her forehead and mouth.

"You are Catherine then?" She whispered, as a servant plodded through the corridor outside.

"Yes."

"I see." The Countess drew an uneasy breath as her eyes flew to a prayer book sitting atop her priedieu chair. I recognized it as the one Lady Adeliza had kept, the parchment pages being curled and yellowed with use. It must have belonged to the Countess before it had been given to her daughter. Such books required the work of talented scribes and educated clergymen, making them even more precious than the finest of jewels.

"I was very saddened by Lady Adeliza's passing. I am sorry for the grief it has brought to your family," I whispered, suddenly wanting to console my grieving mistress. I had felt great pain because of Lady Adeliza's death, and I knew her mother was suffering far more than I.

Countess Emeline's lip trembled slightly, though she did not cry. "I suspect you have also heard that the King's men have arrived to bring my daughter to meet her groom. The entire manor has been preparing for their unexpected arrival, no doubt."

I nodded, wondering how the events concerned me, or if they involved me at all. Perhaps my masters needed more of their garments to be laundered to prepare for the lavish feasts that would likely be held to mark the royal court's arrival. But in such a case, Fleurine would have been summoned as the most experienced laundress in the manor. Or the steward himself.

I tried to stifle my confusion, focussing instead upon the strand of light that filtered through the circular window and onto the herb-laden floor.

"My husband has informed me he will not send the royal court away without a bride. Such a marriage is of great political importance. It was the same when I was brought here from Navarre," she reminisced, her gaze floating above me as if she had forgotten my presence.

My confusion deepened as I tried to understand what she meant. The Count and Countess had no other living daughters, so there was no woman they could send in place of Lady Adeliza. Unless they had thought of some minor noblewoman in Toulouse who could marry the dauphin instead.

"I am sorry, my lady, but I do not understand why this concerns me," I felt the lines between my brows furrow. I prayed she would be as forgiving as her husband had been with my curt speech.

The Countess sighed, drawing her pale hands into her lap. "As the only living daughter of the Count, my husband and I have decided that you will be sent as the bride to the dauphin."

The Countess swam before me as her words thundered within my ears. A spell of faintness overpowered me. My arms flailed for something to cling to. I found the cool wooden post of the bed and closed my fingers around it.

The Countess did little to comfort me, her eyes being vacant and dull.

"I... I do not understand," I murmured as my breathing returned to normal. "I am not of noble blood. My parents were serfs. I am a mere laundress."

Countess Emeline gestured for me to sit beside her on the bed. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if she had descended into madness after the death of her precious daughter. Giving in to my overwhelming desire to assuage my faintness, I let myself collapse onto the heavy fur blanket, the soft skirt of my tunic pooling out around me.

"If you are only a laundress, why do you think the Count allowed you to choose your own husband when he arranges the marriages of the rest of the serfs?" Countess Emeline directed her pale blue eyes toward me.

I paused, the memory of my father's act of valour flooding my mind. "My father saved him from a wild beast. He vowed to—"

"That is not the reason. The man you call your father rescued the Count in his hour of need. But my husband possesses another reason to care for you. A reason I have long wished to forget." Countess Emeline shook her head, tendrils of her silver-blonde hair swaying beneath her plain linen wimple. "My husband was besotted with your mother. They were both raised in the manor, so I assume they saw one another frequently. When I married him, I soon learned of his affection for a pretty chambermaid. I urged him to marry her to one serf when we learned she was with child."

I stared at her as I attempted to contain my shock. The man I had thought of as my father had been but a pawn in the Count's devious game—deceived as much as I had been. The memories I had clung to of his gentle caresses and melodic laughter were only half-truths. The kindness of my master was likely a product of his guilt for seducing my mother. And the man I had so ardently admired since early adolescence was my brother: my flesh and blood.

Disgust churned in my stomach. I stood abruptly, my shoulder knocking against the post of the velvet-curtained bed.

Before I could escape the jarring reality of my situation, the Countess grabbed my arm. "You must understand I wanted no part of this wicked scheme. I was but a girl when I married—oblivious to the cruelty of the world and the betrayals of men. But if you care at all for this manor and the people who abide here enough to save them from all the troubles of war, you will marry the dauphin."

Though I wanted to run back to the forest, I felt my feet planted to the floor like the roots of an ancient oak tree. I had always fantasized about the moment that I would become one of the nobility and embark on grand adventures, although that dream had always been utterly impossible. When I was a child, I had even prayed for a life of excitement beyond the safety of the manor walls. But the idea suddenly disturbed me.

"I do not understand what you mean." I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. "Toulouse is within the King's dominion. Why would my refusal lead to war?"

The Countess arched her sparse brows. She seemed to resent my ignorance of political affairs even though I had been nothing more than an uneducated laundress all of my life. "You are too young to remember the perils of war. But the Kingdom of Aragon has been a threat to Toulouse since its creation. If the King sees no reason to defend our territory, the Spanish will easily conquer Toulouse. That is why we must solidify our alliance with Paris."

"How can I marry the dauphin when everyone knows me to be a laundress?" I demanded, as my previous care for propriety in front of my superiors deteriorated. "I do not know any of the courtly dances. I cannot read Latin, and I do not know how to accomplish any of the courtly duties expected of me."

"You will learn those things swiftly. The King has never seen my daughter, nor has his son. He has only heard about her unrivalled beauty, and what you lack can be salvaged with the finest of gowns and cosmetics. You appear younger than your age, so the idea that you are Lady Adeliza will not seem so improbable." The Countess explained coolly as she appraised me. "The servants will remain silent out of duty to the Count."

Before I could accept or deny the alarming proposition, one of the Countess's attendants lifted my arms to remove my simple tunic—replacing it with a heavy emerald gown that seemed tantalizing and suffocating at the same time.

♕♕♕

I studied myself in front of a circular mirror as if amid a dream. I had never seen a mirror before, only ever catching glimpses of myself in the reflection of water and others' verbal descriptions. Mirrors were expensive and possessed by only the wealthiest of noblewomen.

My nose was narrow but otherwise regular in form, ending above a pair of rouge-darkened lips. My eyes were dark and almond-shaped—though almost grey against the sunlight pouring through the window—while tendrils of my dark hair sought to escape the confines of the ruffled cap fastened to my head.

I realized then that I looked nothing like Lady Adeliza had. If the King had heard about her famed beauty, surely he knew she had possessed a fair complexion, cornflower eyes and golden hair. My dark hair and olive skin were in stark contrast. No matter how many exquisite gowns the Countess dressed me in, I could never pretend to be as beautiful as my predecessor.

"What must I say when we meet the King?" I whispered to the Countess, prying my eyes away from my disappointing appearance.

"You will not meet the King this morning. Only his attendants will escort you to court. You will remain silent when meeting the attendants, but I must instruct you on the etiquette you will follow at court." Countess Emeline then relayed a lengthy list of the customs of the royal court. The more she spoke, the more I realized I had learned much through observing the practices of my superiors.

When she had finished speaking, Martine, one of her female attendants, was waiting in the doorway. She studied me with a bewildered look, but curtsied for the Countess.

"My lady, the King's attendants are awaiting Lady Adeliza in the great hall. The kitchen is preparing a midday feast for the company to enjoy after mass in the chapel." She pronounced the name of her deceased daughter with veiled resentment. She had never wanted an uneducated peasant to ascend to her precious daughter's role.

Countess Emeline placed a hand on my shoulder, guiding me towards the doorway. "I have instructed Martine to accompany you to Paris when you depart tomorrow. She has promised to guide you through your duties at the royal court. She lived at the convent with my daughter, so she will also teach you to read and write."

I stared at Martine's angular features and beady black eyes, realizing that my fate rested within her hands. If she were to neglect to teach me some important court ritual, my true identity would be revealed.

I looked back at the mirror, glimpsing my long silk gown and billowing sleeves. My old tunic lay discarded on the floor, its linen fabric tattered compared to my new attire. Another pang of fear echoed in my chest.

"From now on you are Lady Adeliza of Toulouse, dauphine and future mother to the King of France." The Countess whispered, her words prickling my neck. "You will never be Catherine again."