Coralie had arranged for tea and cakes to be served for she and the Princess around noon. The parlor had been cleaned up, she had even helped, and baskets of yarn had been set beside each chair and couch. Playing cards were on a nearby table, parchment and charcoal in the drawer. No one could say they'd heard of the Princess's hobbies so they attempted to be prepared for almost anything. They'd even laid out needlepoint materials on a desk at the far end of the room.

Lady Macari had wiped down each of the tables and placed the fireplace screen up after a servant girl had lit the fire. The mantle was a covered in a bit of soot but she made quick work, running a cloth over it to expose the polished surface below. Her dress was black, still in mourning of her husband so she was saying, but more in memory of the babe she could have had. Her mind flashed the the lifeless child as Henry Baptiste held it in his arms.

"M'lady? The dirty rag?" Coralie snapped out of her haze when the servant girl slid the towel from her grip. "The Princess is on her way M'lady." After thanking them, she buzzed around the room. Flipping and fluffing pillows, making sure the trays of food were perfectly prepared. She had never entertained royal guests before, but she would do so with perfection at any and all costs.

Finally she settled down to stand in front of the stonework of the fireplace and wait to receive her guest. She folded her arms in front of her navel and hoped, beyond hope, that her first impression would be a great one.


@Tatianna Farrand-Calhoun