Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 47

47. The Lady of Charlotte

If one were to ask the people of Ingrint to name their favorite tale, nine out of ten would likely answer, “The Legend of King Arthur.” The legend is filled with tales of valor and romance involving numerous characters, and the individual stories have been expanded and altered through oral tradition over generations.

Among these, the most famous love story is that of “The Lady of Charlotte.” One can see this in the countless paintings and poems by Ingrint artists that continue to depict and sing of her.

Near Camelot, where King Arthur resided, there was an estate called Charlotte, home to a lady who lived under a curse. She could neither leave her home nor see the world directly. She could only glimpse the outside world through a mirror’s reflection.

She spent her days sitting in her room, weaving the scenery outside her window, as seen through the mirror, into a tapestry. Those days were long and filled with torment.

One day, the lady saw a knight of dazzling beauty passing by in the mirror. He was one of King Arthur’s comrades and vassals.

Captivated by his handsome appearance, the lady, almost involuntarily, rushed to the window to see the man’s face with her own eyes. At that moment, the mirror she had been watching shattered, and the curse upon her doomed her to death.

“I’m tired of seeing only shadows.”

Facing imminent death, the lady resolved to live differently. She set out for Camelot in a boat, taking the tapestry she had woven. She did so just to see the knight one more time before she closed her eyes forever.

The next morning, a small boat carrying the lady’s body arrived in Camelot. The end of a woman who defied her fate was thus a tragic one.

***

Close to Ingrint, separated by the Doven Strait, lies Gallia. In the flourishing duchy of Charlotte in Gallia lived a woman named “Eleanor d’Estrée.”

Eleanor was cursed before her birth. Her fate was to marry a monster from the barbaric land of Ingrint across the sea upon reaching adulthood.

Because of her predetermined husband, Eleanor was barred from falling in love or receiving love from anyone. Her father strictly monitored and restricted her conduct.

Gallia was a country that embraced love. Most Gallians considered premarital romance and intimacy as natural. Even after marriage, they openly kept lovers without hesitation. Many transgressions were forgiven in the name of love.

Ingrint, however, was different. Ingrintians might engage in secretive affairs behind closed doors, but public displays of romantic sentiment were scorned. While Gallians flaunted their lovers and mistresses openly, Ingrintians hid them discreetly.

Though Eleanor d’Estrée was Gallian, she was forced to live by Ingrint’s standards due to her impending marriage to an Ingrintian man. She was forbidden from meeting any men or falling in love. Preserving her purity of body and mind until presenting herself to her future husband was her destiny.

Thus, Eleanor was prohibited from seeing the world directly. When her younger sisters invited men over and flirted in a suggestive atmosphere, Eleanor could only observe them from a distance. She could neither step into their world nor be a part of it.

The only glimpse of the world Eleanor had was through portraits. While the Lady of Charlotte looked into a mirror, Eleanor d’Estrée consoled herself with a portrait of her future husband’s face.

Richard Spencer and Eleanor d’Estrée had their portraits painted annually to report their growth to each other’s families. Every time her portrait was painted, Eleanor dressed as splendidly as possible to present herself at her most beautiful.

However, Richard Spencer’s portraits always looked the same. The paintings Eleanor received were done by skilled artists using the finest canvas and paints.

Yet no matter how hard the painters worked, they couldn’t conceal the indifference of the subject.

Eleanor d’Estrée turned to various interests to alleviate her misfortune, but most of these endeavors ended poorly. She showed little aptitude for foreign languages, musical instruments, or painting. However, there was one thing she loved: clothing and jewelry.

The Duke of Charlotte, with more money than he could ever spend, fully supported his daughter’s hobby. He pitied her for being unable to experience romance before being sent abroad for marriage.

Thanks to this, Eleanor d’Estrée came to possess wardrobes filled to the brim with clothing, including four rooms within the Charlotte Castle, one being her bedroom. Pondering which accessory matched which outfit, what colors to add, and what textures to layer became her sole pleasure.

One day, as usual, Eleanor received a portrait of Richard Spencer with his perpetually indifferent expression. But this time, her face lit up. It was because a folded letter was tucked inside the frame. The sender was Lancelot Spencer.

Lancelot Spencer bore a striking resemblance to Richard Spencer. This was only natural, as they were twins. The sole distinguishing feature was their eye color.

Richard Spencer’s green eyes were said to mirror those of the Spencer family’s founder. In contrast, Lancelot’s amber eyes resembled their mother’s. Eleanor had long since felt the warm, honeyed gaze from Lancelot.

Eleanor had only met Richard and Lancelot twice. Both encounters were so brief that her memories of them were vague.

Piecing together those faint memories like a quilt, Richard Spencer was akin to the rough, heavy wool of Ingrint, while Lancelot Spencer felt like the soft, silky fabric of Gallia. The two men’s attitudes toward her were just as different.

[How have you been, Eleanor?]

Though it was only one sentence, Lancelot’s greeting became an invitation that urged Eleanor to step out into the world. He was as tender as ever.

[I have been well, Lancelot.]

After some hesitation, she wrote a reply. Following Lancelot’s example, she hid her letter in her portrait and ordered it wrapped for delivery.

For years after, their letters were safely exchanged, hidden in bundled portraits. Over time, the length and number of their letters increased, as did the emotions they conveyed.

“I’m tired of seeing only shadows.”

Those growing emotions extended all the way to Ingrint, where Lancelot Spencer lived. Overwhelmed by her feelings, Eleanor made up her mind. She could no longer be satisfied with the shadowy figure of honey-colored eyes painted over Richard Spencer’s portrait.

Eleanor approached her father, the Duke of Charlotte, and made her case. She declared her intention to travel to Lydon to secure her future herself.

Of course, she left out any mention of Lancelot. Though meeting him was her primary goal, admitting it would have resulted in her immediate dispatch to a snowy mountaintop convent, never to emerge until her hair turned white like the eternal snow.

Fortunately, the Duke, who had been disgruntled by the delay in her engagement due to Richard Spencer’s decision to attend college, supported her plan. Thus, Eleanor d’Estrée set sail for Ingrint. Instead of tapestries, her ship was loaded with an abundance of clothing.

“Eleanor, I’ve been waiting a long time.”

The person who greeted her as she disembarked at the Lydon port was not her fiancé, Richard Spencer. Instead, it was his younger brother, Lancelot.

“Lancelot…”

She didn’t have time to be upset that her fiancé hadn’t come himself. Eleanor was already on the verge of collapse from the intoxicating sweetness of Lancelot’s amber eyes.

Like a knight from Arthurian legend, Lancelot drew Eleanor’s gaze away from Richard’s portrait and toward the world. She surrendered herself to a love-filled world, ignoring the curse tied to her fate.

Eleanor and Lancelot grew closer. No matter where they were, they constantly communicated with their eyes rather than their mouths. It was fortunate that Richard Spencer showed no interest in Eleanor whatsoever.

At the Spencer estate, their rooms were right next to each other. Although it was customary for noble houses to separate the men’s and women’s quarters, the Countess insisted Lancelot stay in the adjacent room.

On a night when the moonlight was so bright that even its surface blemishes were visible, after watching a play, Lancelot tapped on the wall to wake Eleanor. From that night onward, the two pressed their ears against the wall and exchanged whispers until dawn, much like Pyramus and Thisbe in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

But mere conversations separated by a wall were no longer enough. Instead of breathing wistful sighs against the cold, hard wall, Eleanor yearned to feel Lancelot’s warm, soft lips.

Finally, Eleanor resolved to break free from the curse that bound her. She sent her heart through the wall to her lover, listening on the other side.

“I want to marry you.”

Lancelot hesitated before replying, “But you are my brother’s betrothed.”