𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 ✔

Chapter Seven

By late afternoon the seamstress had arrived. She took my measurements, jotted down some things, compared her book of fabrics to my skin tone and hair, made many odd sounds while intently sketching on a piece of paper, then left the room.

I continued practicing the many dances Alveary had shown me while Madam Fontaine pointed out all my imperfections. It was wearing on the body and mind being educated hours on end, but dancing was quite fun in itself. I suppose with a better partner than Alveary I might have enjoyed it a lot more than I had. Not to mention that she had this dead look on her face the entire time, which really killed any pleasant mood I might have been in.

After a few more hours of dancing one of the maids fixed my hair and dabbed the beads of sweat from my face and neck, then we all met in the dining room for dinner, or should I say for a feast. I had never seen so much food before in my life, and it was prepared in ways I had no idea food could have been prepared in.

But the lessons did not stop there, they coached me on the etiquette of dining, which was over cumbersome and quite annoying. I had no idea why anyone would have needed more than one fork, spoon or knife to eat, why there were different stages to the meal, and most of all why we need to eat for over an hour.

Being wealthy was more effort than pleasure, and somehow, I was glad I did not have to go through that tedious process every single day. What made it worse was that what they were teaching me at the time was only the casual way of going about things, and that there was more one had to do if they were attending a formal event, such as a ball. I feared they would have attempted to teach formal dining the following day which would have added more to the list of things I had to remember. By the end of it I was sure to burst from too much knowledge being thrust upon me in such a short period of time.

After dinner, we all met in the drawing room once again, where Alveary played the pianoforte and sung rather ill. Though, I could not judge her on singing since I had no experience doing it myself, but for some reason I was sure if she actually cared about what she was doing, instead of being forced, it would have sounded beautiful.

"Isabelle." I looked up from the book I was reading, "Sebastian, his name is Sebastian, Gastaun, Merlae." Madam Fontaine spoke as she continued to write on a piece of paper. She sat at the writing desk on the other side of the room with her back to me.

Sebastian. The name suited him well. It was a strong name and popular amongst the nobles because of the Saint.

"It is derived from the Greek word sebas, which means dread, amongst other things. But I must say, I do dread the very sight of him." I could not see her face, but I could tell she was smiling at her own joke.

"We have that much in common then." I chuckled to myself.

The room went silent for a while, and Alveary had finally stopped singing. Other than the pain resonating up my legs from my sore feet, I was quite relaxed while I sat on the couch listening to the fire crackle as I did some light reading.

"Do you know who the Dauphin is? Let me be more precise, do you remember anything before the curse?" The subject caught me off guard. I knew little about the prince, and the only things I remembered from before the curse was bits and pieces of my mother.

"I'll take your silence as a no. The most important currency in this world is knowledge. You can acquire many things with it that money cannot buy." She paused, "I have gathered that you are a trustworthy person, and I believe telling you more about the curse will do no harm. That is, because I know you are going to, once again, attempt to be sent in the next Offering."

I nodded in response. I had started to become accustomed to her startling knack for knowing things she probably shouldn't. And, truthfully, I had begun to expect her to know everything.