Chapter 10
Hermione POV
When she had reached the palace, Sir Abraxas who always went with her husband, had met her on the gates. Her presence had not been announced, and she was quietly led to a sitting room to adjust her gown. She had barely set foot into the sitting room that she noticed several young ladies, all wearing pastel shaded gowns woven with the silver and golden threadwork so favoured in Silverhaven.
Upon her arrival, a hush fell onto the room. Sir Abraxas kissed the air above her knuckles and left her at the door. The whispers reached her first.
...That was Sir Abraxas Malfoy. ...Is she some dignitary? ...Is she Sir Abraxas's fiancé ?
Hermione had barely entered the room, and she knew she couldn't stay there. Not because she would have to field questions from the curious ladies, but because the scent of so many perfumes was cloying and she felt the inescapable urge to vomit. Whirling out of the room, she ran down the corridor, but she didn't have much time. Ducking out she saw the gigantic ornamental plant pots at the end of the winding corridor. They will have to do. She heaved the contents of her stomach into the pot. There wasn't much to expel, just the sandwich she had nervously eaten on the way to the palace.
Even after expelling the contents of her stomach, the nausea was not abating. She was acutely afraid someone would find her in that position, and on her first day itself, she would become a laughing stock. She had brought her vine-wood wand with her, and with a spell she had recently learnt on her own, she vanished the vomit. But it was an effort to get up. She felt she would hurl again if she rose up from her kneeling position. Taking a few deep breaths, she heaved herself up, clutching the white edges of the pot. She had scarcely moved back from the pot when black dots covered her vision, and she did what she had never done in her entire life. She fainted. But it must be good to faint, because she felt cushioned in her husband's embrace, his characteristic lemon and woodsy scent comforting her.
~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~
As came to, she realized she had been laid down on an ornate long sofa. As she sat up, she felt a stare on her back. Turning around, she gasped. The man sitting in the big cushioned chair at a ninety degree angle from the sofa where she was currently on, was the same man who had bought the entire cart of her goods just a month back.
"What are you doing here?", came her automatic question.
The man just tilted his head and smiled at her. "What do you mean by what I am doing here?"
"I mean, two months ago, you bought all the produce from my cart in Frosthaven. So, who are you and what are you doing here? And did you bring me here?", her frazzled state of mind could not accept that this handsome man who had bought from her was probably some rich noble who was invited to the Slytherin palace. At the most she had though him to be a wealthy trader.
The grin this raven-haired man now gave her was simply put, feral, and she felt shivers down her spine as he replied, "Indeed I purchased herbs from a middle-aged lady, two months ago."
Hermione realized her error then. Why had she blurted out that she had met him. She was clearly glamoured up during her trading hours, and this man must not even know that she was that middle-aged woman. But something about the slyness of his smile made her think that he probably already knew who she was while buying from her cart.
Her surmise was right on the mark when he said, "That day, I just had to see how you fared in trading among commoners, Madame Voldemort."
To say that she was shocked would be an understatement. "How do you know who I am? And who are you?"
The calm on the man's face was unruffled by her questions. "My General's subordinate, Sir Neville had informed me that Madame Voldemort is an expert herbologist, and she sells her herbs in the village market. I was passing by to have a word with General Voldemort, and my curiosity led me to your cart."
If what this man was saying...my General...did that mean he was the King...?
She got her confirmation not a moment later when he continued off-handedly, "Both Voldemort and I love Frosthaven. People there do not know the royal family, and my General and I could be there without being swarmed by the subjects for fear of our identity. Frosthaven is a sleepy little place, isn't it, Madame. And I see you've worn the gown. It does look stunning on you, Madame."
She immediately got up from the sofa and bowed down into the deepest curtsy reserved for the highest dignitaries, addressing him formally, "Your Majesty."
"Madame Voldemort, you may please sit down. When it's just the two of us, you needn't stand on such formality."
With his permission, she sat back on the sofa. King Thomas got up and from the side table poured a glass of water. What she didn't expect that he would be bringing that glass for her.
"Have some water. You look a bit pale. I'll send for the physician in a while. They'll prescribe something for you."
Hastily taking the glass, she told him, "Your Majesty, there is no need to call a physician. I had just gotten off the carriage, travelling for a whole day. The sickness was probably just caused by the carriage's motion. It's nothing to trouble any physician over."
"Nonetheless, I insist, Madame. I will not let you leave till you have been checked by my physician, and there is nothing you say that would change my mind on that. While we wait for the physician to come, I have something else to discuss with you."
His demeanor had gone somber. The sly amusement in his eyes, as though he were in on a secret which nobody else knew, had also left him, leaving him looking every inch a solemn monarch.
"You're from the House of Granger, and they had been the contending line to the throne of Briarwood. Yet, it has come to my knowledge that you were expelled from the royal family. Since, I'll be hosting King Harry and Queen Ginerva today, I'd like to know the true state-of-affairs from you."
Hermione knew the question was pertinent. She had been expecting this question from her own husband, but he had not asked it. And now that the King was asking this, she had no choice but to answer.
"Before I answer, do you wish to administer veritaserum to me, Your Majesty?"
"Will you be lying to me Hermione?"
She was startled.
He was calling her by her name. And the way he'd called her name seemed just like when her husband called her. And because of that daze, she answered with "No, My Lord."
She realized her error in address only afterward. She called her husband, Lord Voldemort that. She looked at him to gauge his reaction to the wrong address of not calling him majesty, but he didn't seem to mind it.
"Then we won't be needing any veritaserum. I trust you'll tell me the truth. And the whole truth, Hermione. Leave out no parts that you may deem unsavoury. I need to know everything."
She told him that at the age of 17, Ginny and Harry had gotten married. Ginny was from one of the noble families, and they had played together as children. The old King James had approved of the love-match between Harry and Ginny, and a year later when he had passed away, Ginny had framed her, stating that Hermione had tampered with the wine putting aphrodisiacs in it to seduce Harry and get on the throne of Briarwood. It was all lies, but the presence of aphrodisiacs in the drink could not be disproved. Hermione had pleaded that just because Harry's drink was laced, did not mean that she was the one who had done it. Harry had not listened to her. He had told her that the only courtesy she and her family would receive from him was not to be sent to the prisons, but the alternative of being banished from the Castle. While her parents had already had their house set up outside the Castle, the main impact of this decision was on Hermione, as her entry to the castle was banned. Where earlier she had been a regular to the royal balls, and had tromped around the castle's gardens, all of that had stopped after Harry's decision.
As she had recounted this, a surge of anger and unhappiness washed over her. Why had Harry not been fair to her? They had grown up together, and he was like her brother, then why had he so readily believed the lies Ginny had spouted against her?
She was roused from her own thoughts as she heard him talk to her. "Thank you Hermione for sharing that with me. I know it wasn't easy for you to recount all this, but I needed to know this. One more thing I want to know is, when these accusations were levelled against you, were you tried with veritaserum in the Court of Briarwood?"
"I wasn't. This was not taken up in the royal court. It was dealt with privately by King Harry and Queen Ginerva."
"I see, Hermione. It seems Queen Ginerva is quite a shrew. Do you want me to turn her into one while she's here, trust me nobody will know where she vanished." The last was said with a twinkle in his eyes, so she knew he was joking.
She couldn't control her laugh then. "No, Your Majesty."
"Why are you calling me Majesty now. Call me your Lord."
"I had mistakenly called you by the wrong address before, I possibly couldn't continue that."
"I am already calling you by your name, and I have told you how to address me. Besides, being your Lord is so much more intimate than being your Majesty."
A blush covered her entire face. Why was he being so flirtatious. She was saved from a reply when the door was knocked and the physician came in.
The royal physician was a middle-aged matron, Madame Pomfrey. She had a short springy wand which she waved over Hermione in some diagnostic test.
Hermione was not expecting what the matron told her then.
"You're pregnant, dear. But it is not stable yet. It is sill early days. From what I can tell, you're 5 or 6 weeks along. You need a lot of rest. Absolutely no physical exertion for you, and you should not lift heavy objects. Some anti-nausea potions will take care of the vomiting. Everything else is fine though."
As she was being told all this, her surprise turned into joy, her hand automatically going to her stomach. She immediately wanted to go to her husband and tell him.
Something of her thoughts must have reflected on her face, because King Thomas said, "It seems congratulations are in order, Hermione. But you'll be able to share this auspicious news with your husband, only after this Royal Ball finishes. The General is overseeing an errand for me."
She did not argue with him over the proper form of address any longer, for she wanted to get his acquiescence on keeping quiet about her pregnancy. "My Lord, you've heard the matron. It is still early days and it is not stable yet. I hope you do not share this information with anyone else for another three months, and I hope you can ask Madame Pomfrey to not disclose this to anyone yet."
"Of course. Till you and the General wish to share this happy news, I will keep it to myself. As for Madame Pomfrey, you do not need to fret about her, she will not let any information slip."
The next few hours flew for her. From the moment she had fainted, till the moment a room was shown to her for retiring for the night, King Thomas did not leave her side. She was surprised when he had told the majordomo to introduce her as Lady Hermione of Briarwood. He did not tell the majordomo to announce her as Madame Voldemort, but she did not have much time to dwell on that for King Thomas drew her into the first dance. For the next hour, she was glued to his side as different dignitaries came to talk to him. She did find it odd, but to be honest, she did not mind being on the King's arm if that meant that she didn't have to answer awkward questions from different people. She would have much preferred to be with her husband right now, for she didn't know what to say and to whom, and so she didn't mind just standing beside the King. Within an hour though, a headache started pounding her. The scents of sweat and too many people was again bringing a feeling of nausea to her.
She had to give it to King Thomas that he was a master observer. For the past hour she had seen him deftly maneuver conversations, and she saw how he stroked the ego of the politician from Meadowland, just enough to wrangle out a trade prospect from the man. And now, he was equally observant of her growing discomfort. A mere 15 minutes later he had escorted her up to her room.
As she bid goodnight to him, she could see why her husband was so devoted to the Slytherin King. From the small amount of time she had spent with him, she realized he was a competent statesman who inspired confidence in others.
As she got out of the heavy gown and put on her night clothes, she couldn't help smiling. A baby. She wondered if her child would inherit her brown hair, or the father's almost albino white complexion and hair, but a moment later she knew it wouldn't matter. Whoever the baby took after, she already knew she loved it.