Chapter 9
Hermione POV
She had had a regular day. Waking up early, looking to drying her foraged ingredients, going to the village market to sell her herbs, coming back, assorting and drying more ingredients. Having an early lunch prepared by Alice, and snoozing a bit in the afternoon, and the day would have progressed just as regularly, but for the royal summons she received in the evening.
She had been asked to attend the Royal Ball in honour of dignitaries from both Briarwood and Meadowland being invited. Not only had she received the invitation, but a ball gown had also been sent to her, 'a gift from His Majesty, King Thomas, for his General's wife'. The subtext was clear to her. The gift of the gown meant it was mandatory for her to go, even when she did not want to.
"Sir Neville, do you know when Lord Voldemort would be back?"
"My Lady, I am not privy to that information."
"Do you think he'll be back before the Ball?"
"We could hope so, My Lady, but if His Lordship is not back by then, you'll still have to set forth for the Capital. Mayhap, His Lordship may meet you at the palace." With that, Sir Neville left her alone with her thoughts.
She opened the gown. It was a deep shade of magenta with the bottom covered in green rosettes, and as the rosettes moved up, they transitioned into a beautiful design woven with golden threads, ending with small silver serpents embroidered around the neck. She wore the gown and it fit her perfectly, the square-cut neckline emphasizing her collarbones, and the green and golden work complementing her brown hair and bringing a vibrance to her brown eyes. A gown of such intricacy could not have been made overnight. It must have been months in the making. Not to mention, what she now knew about Silverhaven, the fabric colours preferred here were all pastels, and sensible colours. This fabric with its beautiful hue of magenta must have been sourced from Briarwood, and after spending time in the markets, she knew the fabric itself must have cost a lot, not to mention the intricate design stitched onto it. Looking at the gown, she realized that it indeed was an expensive gift. Did the King favour all his men's wives like this—with extravagant gifts?
Although she loved the gown, a slight unease settled upon her for she knew she would be journeying to the Slytherin palace alone. She now knew enough of her husband's patterns that she knew he wouldn't be back before the moon waned. She did not fear him cheating on her, for their marital vows had included fidelity on part of both of them. She just did not like the uncertainty his assignments brought to their life, and though she had tried pushing for more information, but she had been politely but firmly stonewalled from any conversational attempts to even gain any information, and her guards were equally tight-lipped.
As she smoothed her hands over the gown, a curiosity settled upon her. She really wanted to meet the King to whom her husband was so devoted, the King who'd send such an extravagant gift.