Lady Claudia Casalon D'Anvers was never introduced to anyone without her full name being said, carefully enunciated. It was why she knew she would like the newly arrived Queen, even before meeting her.

The outlandish stories about an affair with the Darces Count, her rise to the throne - in spite of her uncle's scheming, her scandalous arrival to marry Charles, and the general curiosity around her family's less than discreet pursuits, all made everyone in Leront curious about the woman behind them, overshadowing Claudia's years-delayed return to the Court. It had made it easier for her, as fewer eyes were watching. If not for The Queen, she would have been the most important arrival at Roune court.

Once considered quite a catch, the only daughter of the old Casalon family became invisible to every high born at the court as soon as she married the old and very wealthy Count D'Anvers, and she liked it that way. It was a marriage of convenience, arranged entirely by her parents -- their name could only keep them from ruin for so long, and he was almost seventy and without heirs.

The Count, a kind man who liked books more than people and men more than women, mostly left her alone for months, at their summer castle, while he traveled the continent to collect the first and pursue the latter, as he often encouraged her to do before she'll become a wife "in the real sense of the word". He meant after his death -- when she remarried. It had been his honor to help his dear friend, Claudia's father, restore his family status. Their families merged, even without a D'Anvers son to unite their names, just like they had always wanted. He gave her the freedom to read and learn anything, and his only concern was that she was wasting her young years, isolated from her peers. "Your mind is becoming old, like mine," he said often, as a reproach. To her, it had always been a compliment.

Still, as the sole future heir of a fortune she had nothing to do with, and with a last name that scared any potential suitors, Claudia knew she had little time to waste, she had to enjoy what freedom she had left. Beyond prepared for her son-in-law's long-expected death, her mother Lady Anne Casalon had already put together a list of the suitable nobles of Leront. It was a very short list, and Claudia already dreaded the imminent battle of wills. She had been easy to fool, the first time, believing that they knew what was best for her. But her second marriage would be out of love, no matter what anyone else said.

Looking at the comfortably seated woman in front of her, Claudia remembered how, when she first met her, she thought that the Queen of Moaran would not be a remarkable woman if it weren't for her reputation.

She was smaller than most of the ladies of the Roune court, but the first thing Claudia always noticed about her was her hair. She had coffee-colored hair, styled fashionably up, which unfortunately lacked the discipline of the other, similar Roune coiffures that it was trying to copy. There was no discernable way she could tame such hair, Claudia thought, it looked heavy on her. It needed to be shorter, and less thick. Her long, corseted green dress was impeccable, however, probably because it was a more predictable foe - even if it was not wide enough at the bottom, where it touched the floor. Times were changing, even for Leront's old dusty court, and dresses were starting to shrink back to human size. So it was acceptable, even considered forward, to bring the line of the dress closer to the wearer's body. It was not something a married woman would do, but a young girl would have a right to show off a little.

Claudia had read that, in Moaran, women wore comfortable dresses, some even wore men attire, and that their small army had women who wore uniforms and fought battles. She had been disappointed to find that their Queen's personal guard looked like every other Royal guard: men with weapons and hard stares, only darker in skin color, thanks to their country's eternal warm sun.

She remembered their formal introduction, at the beginning of the summer season. The Queen and Charles, both beautiful and smiling, stood at the top of the stairs that led to the throne, where the King, like an old statue, kept his hand supported by his sword. Charles had been polite, charming even, shaking hands left and right, as the line of nobles to be introduced shortened. He was embarrassed, Claudia knew immediately, he was only nice when he wanted something. He wanted them to approve.

"This is my dear friend Lady Claudia Casalon d'Anvers," he had presented her. "She has just come back after a considerable absence at the court."

"Your Majesty," Claudia had made a small curtsy. The Queen smiled often when in public, showing a white that clashed with her skin. Her eyes were almost the color of her hair, but with amber stripes that made them seem like they could see in the dark.

"Claudia, perhaps you could show my future wife the ways of the court, she is still relatively new to them, even after all my lectures," Charles had said, as if making light of himself, when both women knew better, their eyes converging on him.

"It will be my pleasure, but you should know I am just relearning them myself. Maybe we can learn them together," Claudia had said without thinking.

The Queen's smile finally reached her eyes, "I would like that very much."

It was the beginning of many official visits between the two young women, and many more, unofficial, followed.

In Her Majesty's chambers, one of the Roune Castle's smaller guest ones, they now went over the plan for the hundredth time, looking for ways to improve it. They discussed strategies, obstacles, and what dress to wear.

Claudia lamented not knowing Mathias d'Athanar better, she would've been of much greater help. To her, he'd always been was the silent, serious boy who followed Henrik around.

"Don't worry about it," said The Queen. "I have everything I need."