The Mistress' Revenge

From the scrolls

"Are you sure, Your Highness that this is a good idea?" José stares at me with reclusion.

We have been stuck here for two hours, trying our best to get dressed before the feast begins. Whoever has started complaining about women's attires, and the time they take to get ready should try putting on a disguise.

"Being pretty takes a good amount of time, José. Don't be so judgmental. Patience favours the best," I tell him, and he shakes his head gently.

"But, Your Highness, the feast's been on and going for a couple hours now. Are you sure..." He asks, and I narrow eyes at him. Give them some, and they want it all!

"I am sorry, Your Highness. Forgive me... I have spoken out of turn," he shudders a little.

"Have you?" I cock my eyebrow at him, and he looks like he will faint any second now.

"I am not going to put on the moustache. Get me something more discreet. Like a beard maybe," I tell him, as I watch myself in the huntsman's attire.

"As if a beard's discreet," I hear him mumble but do not threaten him this time.

The disguise that he brought has been infact more hideous then what I had in mind. It consists of brown, leather rags sewn together to support my body's frame. It sticks to my pecs, and is too thick. It doesn't make for a comfortable thing to stroll in.

"Are you sure they have got my measurements correct?" I ask José, and he blinks.

"About that Your Highness, this is the best they could come up with. I am aware there might be misgivings in the attire's dimensions," he says politely.

"Were they not aware that this was made on commission for the member of a royal family?" I ask him, and he lets out a sigh.

"No, and not that it would make much a difference," he tells me. "Nobody in the royal family plays dress up on a whim," he adds, clearing his throat.

"Aren't you speaking so freely, José on this fine day?" I taunt him, and he bites his lips.

"Your Highness, have recruited me to speak freely, I believe. Why else would I be spared when most aren't?" José says, and I catch the hint of a facetiousness in his eye. Impressive.

"Very well then. The beard. In five minutes," I pressed the importance of it.

José has been the Knight that my father had brought with himself during the earliest days in battle. Briefly, they had dragged me out from my cage. And José and I, fought alongside each other for eight years together.

Four of which had me thrown in another exile. José was a country boy who knew what he was doing with a sword.

"Your Highness," he returns with something that vaguely resembles a beard.

"What is that made of? Bear hide?" I asked, and he blushed.

"It's best we don't talk about that," he says, moving closer. His strides are quick as he peels the back of the beard.

"They are experimenting with some sort of face adhesive, Your Highness. I told them they will die if it causes you discomfort," he adds smiling, as he carefully places it on my face.

His yellow irises shine under the glinting light of the chandelier. "Say, Your Highness, won't you tell me why go through all this trouble?"

"Well, all those years at the battle field and you are still asking questions, José. Should I seem you have gone rusty from your time guarding at my door?"

"Why worry about that, Your Brilliance. It is a known fact that more wars are to be fought from within the palace walls," he presses the whole of it, as I watch our reflections in the mirror. His small stature against mine as I taken in my new disguise.

"Good heavens, José. I indeed look hideous," I tell him and he clicks his tongue.

"Your Highness, never in a million years have you looked hideous. Even on the days when you bathed in blood, and even on days when you didn't sleep for nights. You are always...breathtaking," José adds.

"Flattery will get you everywhere my friend. Even to places you don't wanna be at," I tell him.

"There ain't anywhere I'd go as long as you are there. Always at your service, Your Highness," he says and I realised he is just too close.

"Well then, I assume Huntsman don't have bedazzled guards by their arms. Or in their bedrooms," I tell him and he chuckles. "Good thing, I come prepared."

"Cannot ever leave me alone, now?"

"My Lord, I wouldn't think of," his head bows.

This was one of the things that I loved about José. I could trust him with my life.

"I have bad news for you. I want you to take this letter to the House Of Versailles, my friend," I tell him and his face loses all colour.

Doesn't mean I would trust him with my life.

"Indeed. The Lord chooses his toughest battles for the most loyal of his people," his shoulders square as he moves away in discomfort.

"Atleast let me know where I can find you, shall I need to reach you-"

"Subtlety isn't your best trait, my friend. You will have to leave now. You will be at Versailles' by dawn," I tell him.

"I cannot let you be here alone. Not while I am gone. Your Majesty, don't you get it?" His eyes meet mine with a sense of retaliation. It's easy to be mistaken that you know what's good for the others when you mean good. It makes you short sighted.

"It's an order, Sir José," I tell him, and his body freezes. I know it was a low blow. For years when I have treated him like my own brother.

"Very well then, My Liege. I shall leave now," his face sirs astutely. But from what I know about José, I know he is disappointed and angry.

The tragedy was, no one could know what was to come. Or, the fates would take a darker turn...