Wulfyddia (The Tattersall Trilogy Book 1) by Steele Alexandra

him, seeming to stroke him,
just a hairsbreadth away from his skin, so that he could feel the hum of her
essence, and she comforted him, bringing peace to the darkness.

Chapter 7
    “You’re sure I won’t get in trouble for
this?” Spencer surveyed the court gathering with a knot slowly growing in his
stomach. He did not belong here, and he was unsure why he kept allowing the
sisters to drag him about the castle on their various excursions.
    “Of course not.” Daphne said dismissively.
    “You’re with us,” Lorna told him. “Don’t
worry. Oh look, here comes Grandmamma.”
    Any hope of Spencer not worrying evaporated
with her last observation, and he watched anxiously as three rows of soldiers
four across marched into the royal hall. They were followed by a handful of old
men wearing elaborate suits in brilliant colors.
    “That’s the Royal Guard, and those are the
Royal Advisors,” Daphne whispered. She had been standing moments before, but
now that she was confronted with her grandmother’s court, she sat down in a
high-backed chair and kept her head down. The elderly Royal Advisors were followed
by a group of women in outrageous outfits. They were dressed in elaborate
gowns, had piled their powdered and curled hair on top of their heads, and wore
the strangest shoes Spencer had ever seen, absurdly high shoes, practically
stilts really, which made them walk like newborn colts. Their faces were so
powdered and painted that it was difficult to tell the old ones from the young
ones, especially with the big black spots they’d all painted on their cheeks.
    “Those are the Ladies of Court,” Lorna said
dreamily, sounding star-struck.
    Daphne clicked her tongue. “I think they look
ridiculous,” she said.
    The women were pursued by a group of very strange
looking men. The men were wearing the same sort of high shoes, but much bigger,
and their faces were also powdered. Rather than piling their hair on top of
their heads, they seemed to specialize in finding creative ways to grow it on
their faces. Between them they sported some truly unique moustaches and beards.
Spencer stroked his own chin and wondered if there would ever come a day when
he would be able to grow such outrageous hair… not that he’d want to.
    “They’re not all natural,” Daphne whispered.
    “What?” Spencer whispered back.
    “Those are the Lords of the Court, and they
don’t actually grow those. They like to change them a lot, so they just paste
them on in the mornings and rip them off in the evenings.”
    Spencer thought that was the most revolting
thing he’d ever heard. “But why do the courtiers dress like that?” he asked Daphne.
“You don’t dress like that.”
    “We don’t have anything to prove,” Daphne
said. “They’re at Court trying to gain favor and posts, and titles and land. We
own everything and always will. Why bother painting our faces?”
    She did have a succinct way of putting
things, Spencer thought. Lorna’s sudden intake of breath startled him and he
turned to see what the younger sister was staring at. The men of the Court were
followed after a few paces by a man who danced along comically. He wore a
colorful suit, and on his head was a bizarre hat adorned with bells. He had a
tambourine in one hand and wore a puppet on the other hand.
    “The Fool,” Lorna whispered, and there was a
faint catch in her voice.
    “Shall I call him over here, Lorna?” Daphne
whispered teasingly. But then, when her little sister went white, she shook her
head. “You know I’m only teasing. She hates the Fool,” Daphne whispered to Spencer,
“she thinks he’s scary.”
    Spencer could understand why. As they watched
the Fool stopped to do some backflips, and then purposely botched the last one
so that he fell humorously in front of everyone. The Ladies of the Court all
giggled, waving their fans frenetically, and the men mocked him, even though it
was obvious that the fall had been staged to amuse them. The