It was a hot summer of 17 ... In the east the dawn was just beginning to warm, painting the edge of the horizon in coral shades, and in the palace the commotion began a few hours before dawn, with the first trills of morning birds, foreshadowing the sunrise. The streets glittered with cleanliness - a light summer rain had passed the day before and gave the whole city a fresh, festive look. All the halls and rooms of the palace, all the aisles and driveways of the palace park, all the main bridges and streets of the capital, as well as the cathedral, hundreds of workers decorated with garlands of scarlet natural flowers and waterfalls of golden ribbons. Almost at every step huge cages with snow-white pigeons were set up, which will be released at the most solemn moment of today's ceremony - at the very moment when the young queen finally reached adulthood will sit on her crystal throne under the domes of St. Tuin's Cathedral, topped with the golden crown of the Bloody Moon with forty huge rubies. The giant gates of the temple will then be open to the crowd in exultation and reverence, so that each subject can admire the beauty, grandeur and sincerity of his new ruler.

In the chambers of the future queen reigned full turmoil. The overweight master of ceremonies now and then ran into the courtroom infested with the crowd, raged in the crowd, sought out the person he needed and, puffing out, gave the last instructions. The skinny-like oper-chamberlain poker could not deal with the next batch of flowers and theatrically clutched his head, not imagining how he would have time to attach such a number of them with a clear shortage of people. Ober Wardrobe Master completely knocked down and was in a state of faintness, although at his disposal, perhaps, there was plenty of servants responsible for the magnificent royal dresses, prepared for different stages of today's event. He wiped his wet forehead with a lace handkerchief every now and then and carelessly slid his luxurious wig on one side of his head, so he looked rather comical. However, there was absolutely no one to laugh at him, because everyone was absorbed in his work and did not notice the people around him at all. An endless line of pompously dressed up ladies of the court carried more and more new wardrobe items of incredible beauty and grace. Seamstresses and tailors fussed around the dresses they wore on their mannequins with their tool boxes and added the final touches to the outfits. The chief treasurer was responsible for the safety of the royal jewelery, so a small detachment of heavily armed guardsmen in ceremonial red robes still held a place in the chambers.

In the midst of all this chaos, bewildered and bewildered, stood a half-naked young girl of incredible beauty. That was the future ruler of Valaringia, Princess Chantal. The correct oval of her gentle face framed frantic flows of chocolate curls, flowing to the buttocks. Her well-defined plump pink lips were ajar, as if she was going to ask something, but still could not decide. From the expression of her golden-brown eyes, it seemed that she was not fully aware of where she was and what was happening around her. Now the beauty of her feminine body was hidden by a spacious silk shirt to the middle of the thigh, but the accidentally unbuttoned deep neckline allowed the indiscreet observer to contemplate the lush roundness of her elastically protruding breasts, and large beads of her dark dark nipples appeared through the thin fabric. Of divine beauty, slender legs attracted the eye with pleasant roundness of the hips and calves, graceful subtlety of the knees and ankles, and even neat little feet, spoiled by idleness and the luxury of a rich life, seemed perfect, as if they belonged not to an earthly girl, but to an innocent angel,descended from heaven, and first set foot on mortal earth. This angel translated the lost gaze from one person to another, not even trying to understand what everyone wanted from her. She nodded at random, answered at random, smiled at random and seemed ready to cry. She was looking for someone in the crowd of courtiers and still could not find. The absence of this man plunged her into despair.

To her very mouth they brought in turn several tiny elegant sandwiches and pastries, which she accepted without the slightest objection, washing it all down with a few sips of the proposed red wine. Three hairdressers took up her hair at once. At the same time, they smoothed out her recalcitrant curls with ivory combs, wove scarlet ribbons and scarlet flowers into her hair, and incessantly argued with each other about how best to style her hair. The shoemakers tried on her shoes, the chamberlain made her repeat the text of today's speech, and she talked him out without a hitch, not worrying about intonation, pauses and accents.

When the hairstyle was ready, it could no longer be disturbed, so the main court tailor, not caring at all about the girlish modesty, and not even embarrassed himself, with a habitual gesture cut the silk shirt of a beautiful woman with sharp scissors to personally follow how it would sit new outfit. However, the young charmer from childhood was accustomed to publicity, so her own nudity in the presence of such a large crowd of people did not embarrass her at all. In addition, she knew perfectly well that her body and face are perfect, that everyone admires her, that it is the duty of all these people to take care of all the smallest needs and needs of her body, therefore there is nothing shameful about the fact that now she is naked and given to someone else's care . The maids rubbed her tender pale golden skin with fragrant oils, soaked them with silk napkins, and refreshed them with the most delicate floral perfumes. The touch of their gentle hands brought Princess Chantal into a little trepidation and a little exhilarated, because sometimes she was tickled.

In general, in the future queen's chambers, at first glance, there was a complete mess. However, if you look closely, it could be noted that this whole mess was not at all chaotic. All preparations clearly obeyed some strict regulations, the precise execution of which was followed by the attentive and stern look of the sapphire eyes of a wonderfully dressed young man, dressed in black from head to toe. His long, black as a moonless night, curls freely falling on his broad shoulders and straight back. His leather jacket, embroidered with black precious stones and adorned with the finest black lace, superbly emphasized to become his taut strong figure and the pride of his regal bearing. Not a single emotion was reflected on his face, it rather resembled a brilliant work mask, whose courageous classical beauty could hardly leave anyone indifferent to even one female. However, the coldness of this face and the insight of these magnetising wise eyes almost did not allow anyone to even look at him without trembling and shuddering in front of the forces that their permafrost concealed in them. Many said that this man was capable of many things, because he went through such trials that any mere mortal could scarcely endure. It was the chief administrator at the court of the future Queen Chantal, her first adviser, the powerful Duke Verlaine.

For a moment, the young naked queen turned over her shoulder, as if feeling a gaze on herself. Her golden eyes, framed by dark thick eyelashes, suddenly flashed with cheerful lights, a blush blossomed on the still-pale cheeks, and a radiant, tender smile touched her lips. She finally found the person she was looking for and eager to see on this fateful day - Verlaine, her wise teacher, adviser and the one who had long been, if not her whole adult life, the subject of her girlish dreams.How passionate and playful her passionate gaze was, just as cool and indifferent was the gaze of this demonically beautiful and at the same time frightening young man who, at twenty-eight years of age, had achieved such a high rank at court and had the deepest confidence of the recently deceased king now also his daughter.

Verlaine remembered Chantal more ...