Isabel was used to quiet mealtimes. The countess preferred to take her meals with Isabel either reading to or supping with her, and so besides the murmur of conversation or the words of the latest piece the countess wished to hear, there was relative calm and quiet. At Hampton Court, however, Isabel was finding that calm and quiet was not something to be expected or perhaps even possible in His Majesty's court.

The evening meal time was overwhelming to Isabel in both sight and sound as she entered the Great Hall. The celebrations of the birth of the new princess were still ongoing, even though Her Majesty was still abed. Isabel wondered, as she observed those joking and laughing, if the courtiers had forgotten their queen? Her hand rose to the wooden rosary around her neck and her fingers clasped the cross. She murmured a prayer for the health of the queen, the king, and the new princess, and continued into the Great Hall.

The red-haired woman narrowly missed colliding with a man who seemed to already have had too much spirits. Isabel wrinkled her nose and continued to a spot in the Great Hall where she thought there would be less traffic and perhaps less persons overflowing with drink. On her way, she procured a cup of weak ale to sip on and as she settled back against the wall, she observed the activities around her furtively.

Isabel felt terribly out of place here. She did love dancing, of course, but here... Countess de Lisle had told her to be wary of those at court, that the place was rife with sin and immorality. She wondered if she should have just stayed in Her Highness' rooms or perhaps gone to the chapel. She raised the cup of ale to her lips but did not sip; instead placing it on a nearby ledge. Perhaps she should have gone to the chapel...

During these past days of revelry where the court decided they would have as much as they could even if there was no prince and the Queen was still ill, Catherine spent as much time away from such activities as possible. She did not like consorting with these sorts of people who crowded the great hall this eve, those who she thought would be better off on their knees praying for the health of Queen Margaret as Catherine did so often lately. Life was tenuous. There was nothing to be enjoyed when she was so worried and consumed with concern for her close friend the Queen. Of course, for Catherine there was no getting away from it. As always she sat at a long table with the other women of the Queen's rooms, finding herself bored by the chatter of gowns and flirtation when she would usually have joined in with laughter and teasing. Instead she was quiet, beset with a headache from the noise of too many people talking and the musicians playing stately chords for dancing.

Looking down at her empty trencher, Catherine examined it and then her lap, with her hands folded demurely. In her anxiety she felt like a completely different person. Was she the only one here among the Queen's ladies who were terrified of the situation? She thought perhaps she was. She excused herself, sick from the thought, with some trivial words about needing to get another goblet of mulled wine. It was a ridiculous excuse, considering such things were freely given to those sitting at the tables, but if she said something else--such as, "I want to go dance"--everyone would know she was lying her head off. She had her supper, she did not want to dance because she had no skill in it, and she certainly did not want to spend her evening flirting with handsome men when she would always be thinking about the Queen. It was a good a time as any to leave the great hall. No one would miss her much, of that she was convinced. She skimmed the side of the great wood-paneled room, wanting to make the least possible fuss out of the situation. In particular she didn't want anyone to stop her for conversation.

"I am so sorry," she mumbled a half-hearted apology, glancing to the red-headed young woman she nearly bumped into on her way out. Catherine was distracted. She did not want to play the part of the polite courtier, but it seemed she would have to whether she wanted to or not. Being at court was all about being an actor. Conversing with people had become a skill she learned, however slowly, however boring the discussion. Once she looked this other woman over, she realized she was not someone she recognized. That could start some small talk before she left. Enough to be polite and keep her reputation as such, but not enough to be overly friendly. "I have not seen you here before." I'd better introduce myself, she thought, figuring that if she had never seen this other woman before that meant she was probably new to court and scared out of her mind. At least Catherine was when she had arrived a year ago. "I am the Lady Catherine Willoughby," she added, offering Isabel a tentative smile that wasn't exactly warm or friendly. "I am one of the Queen's ladies."

The cup of weak ale was forgotten as Isabel watched the activities around her, particularly the dancing. She delighted in dancing, but again she wondered as to the appropriateness of the activity in a time such as this. Countess de Lisle's warning about avarice and vice at court echoed in her ears, and Isabel was thinking about making an exit from the hall when a woman perhaps a few years younger than her almost bumped into her. "I am so sorry," the woman murmured, and Isabel offered a kind smile.

The lady looked somewhat distracted, but did not, as the man who had collided with Isabel earlier, smell of spirits. Isabel was surprised she wasn't jostling more people in this crowded hall. "It is quite alright, lady." She assured, bobbing in a slight curtsy. The other woman had beautiful brown hair and upon looking at Isabel, seemed to decide to speak with her more.

"I have not seen you here before."

Isabel bowed her head once and said, "I am new at court and have not yet been here for a fortnight, lady. I think it is only the first or second time I have taken a meal in this hall." She chuckled somewhat nervously and wondered who she was speaking to, and if a deep curtsy was warranted. She did not need to wonder long, for the woman introduced herself.

"I am the Lady Catherine Willoughby. I am one of the Queen's ladies."

"I am happy to meet you, Lady Catherine." Isabel said, dipping into a curtsy. Certainly, as a lady to the Queen, she was in a higher position than Isabel. Perhaps she seemed distracted because she was worried for the Queen? Isabel certainly could not blame her. Though she had been serving Princess Margaret for a mere number of days, if she had become ill, Isabel would worry too. "I am Isabel Leigh, just arrived from Kent to serve as lady to Princess Margaret." Isabel offered a kind smile to Catherine once more and said softly, "I pray that Her Majesty recovers quickly, Lady Catherine. I'm sure the royal physicians are taking the greatest care." Isabel smiled once more and nodded twice at the lady.

She turned over the name in her head, not recognizing it nor the family the other woman came from.. Isabel Leigh. Hm. It wasn't surprising to Catherine that she wasn't familiar with it. She wasn't the type to focus on what family someone at court came from. That was for others who were more interested in power and alliances between families for mutual courtly advancement, not a lady-in-waiting to the Queen. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Isabel," she said. Again Catherine smiled at her and this time it was more genuine. No matter how used to small talk and greetings she became, she always would retain something of the shy, overwhelmed girl that came to court a year earlier. Familiar and laughing with friends, she was still a bit reticent around new faces.

As Isabel spoke, Catherine thought, That explains much. She could remember well her first days at court, how she avoided such great gatherings of people. It was overwhelming. "You shall become used to these people, though I am not sure if you shall ever be used to their presence as they are now," she said, her blue eyes drifting from the other lady's face to those of people reveling in the hall, most likely drunk on too much wine or ale. "I know I am not."

The mention of the Queen and her health brought a somber look to Catherine's young face, her brows furrowed, a crease in her forehead showing up in her worried expression.. "At least you pray, unlike most people here I assume." Her voice was quiet, but a trace of anger was in the hard way she spoke. "I am sure she appreciates all of the prayers for her health. I am most worried. It seems I spend most of my waking hours on my knees praying for her to be well again, poor lady. There is a great comfort in prayer."

Lady Catherine's warm smile was a most welcome sight to Isabel, especially after meeting some people in her first days at court who were less than welcoming. Isabel could do nothing but reciprocate the warm smile and be thankful for it -- perhaps Countess de Lisle was wrong about many of those at court. The red-head girl eagerly hoped so, otherwise she knew she would not fit in well here at all.

As if Lady Catherine knew what she was thinking, she spoke, "You shall become used to these people, though I am not sure if you shall ever be used to their presence as they are now, I know I am not."

Isabel was unable to suppress a light giggle that escaped from her lips. "It is my fervent hope that I may become used to them, but not necessarily similar to them." Her eyes followed Lady Catherine's to some of the debauch the courtiers were engaged in and then back to her face. "I am not a participant to... activities such as theirs." And she hoped she never would be.

"I am sure she appreciates all of the prayers for her health. I am most worried. It seems I spend most of my waking hours on my knees praying for her to be well again, poor lady. There is a great comfort in prayer."

"Certainly she will recover." Isabel said gently, kindly. "I am sure that our Heavenly Father would not take a mother away from a newborn babe -- and certainly not a new princess of England." Isabel smiled, and for a moment wondered what her life would have been like if her mother had passed away instead of her father. Her father could have remarried, as her mother had, but she was certain that much of the warmth of her childhood would be gone without her mother. Certainly, He would not take a mother away from such a new young life... Isabel shook her head and pulled herself from her reverie.

"Yes, prayer is... Prayer can always make the bleakest circumstance better. I confess, I was just thinking whether or not I should leave these 'festivities' and go to the chapel myself..." Isabel paused before continuing, for she didn't know whether or not it would be untoward to suggest to Lady Catherine that they go to the chapel and pray together -- after all, the festivities were certainly festive. At the last moment, Isabel decided it would be odd of her, and so she instead stated hopefully, "I should hope other celebrations are of a more tame nature than these?"

It seemed that bumping into Isabel Leigh meant Catherine had run into a kindred spirit. "And that is certainly what you should hope for," she told Isabel with a merry laugh. "Not to be like them but to tolerate their presence. It is not just the men, but the women. They spend their time flirting and gossiping like fools." She paused and her smile was a little sly as she giggled. "Although I admit I do enjoy such past-times, especially if he is handsome." Again her eyes drifted to the crowd, as if to pick a handsome face from the groups of people, but she turned her attention right back to the redhead in front of her.

"I should hope He will not take Her Majesty, unless it is His time for her. I hope it is not. She is a dear friend to me, we have known each other since we were girls," Catherine explained. She did not want to go into great detail about her life, especially on this their first meeting, but she felt like she should say something about how the Queen's friendship was so dear to her that her being so ill threw Catherine for a loop. Her life was all upside down. she was not needed, she was no midwife, no physician.

Isabel didn't like the rowdiness of court. She would see worse things, hear more noise, watch more drunkenness and debauchery than the rather tame dancing and eating that was going on this night. "This is the usual. Much drinking and merriment by all, excepting me. I do not dance. I have two left feet. Any poor fellow who would find himself asking me for a partner would soon run away," she said, trying to make the topic of conversation cheerful rather than depressing. She spent too much time thinking on the Queen and worrying for her. "I have spent so much time praying I am ready for something to cheer me."

Isabel's eyes lit up as Lady Catherine replied in a manner most consistent to her own thoughts and beliefs. "And that is certainly what you should hope for. Not to be like them but to tolerate their presence. It is not just the men, but the women. They spend their time flirting and gossiping like fools." Her laughter and smile was infectious, and Isabel found herself smiling widely at her words. Oh, a good soul at court! Isabel felt relief fill her bosom and the smile would not leave her lips any time soon. "Although I admit I do enjoy such past-times, especially if he is handsome."

"I suppose if it is done in moderation, it cannot be too worrisome." Isabel offered Lady Catherine, her brow knitting in thought. She was not skilled in the art of flirtation or gossip, and she did not expect to be any time soon, but she had heard tales of the practice from Countess de Lisle, of course. But Lady Catherine's words assured her that she was not practicing it deceitfully or wickedly, and indeed, her earlier words exposed that she was much like Isabel. So the red-head wasn't worried for the soul of the Queen's lady-in-waiting, or worried at any intercourse with her. "And," she admitted, a faint tinge of blush rising to her cheeks, "the beauty of a noble man can increase the enjoyment of certain activities."' Though Isabel didn't personally know, really... She assumed her words were true.

It seemed that bumping into Isabel Leigh meant Catherine had run into a kindred spirit. "And that is certainly what you should hope for," she told Isabel with a merry laugh. "Not to be like them but to tolerate their presence. It is not just the men, but the women. They spend their time flirting and gossiping like fools." She paused and her smile was a little sly as she giggled. "Although I admit I do enjoy such past-times, especially if he is handsome." Again her eyes drifted to the crowd, as if to pick a handsome face from the groups of people, but she turned her attention right back to the redhead in front of her.

"I should hope He will not take Her Majesty, unless it is His time for her. I hope it is not. She is a dear friend to me, we have known each other since we were girls."

Isabel nodded somberly and the revelation of the close friendship Lady Catherine must share with Her Majesty, and Isabel fervently hoped the Queen would recover for the sake of her family and her good friend Lady Catherine, whom Isabel was finding immensely likable. Lady Catherine was perhaps the first person at court to truly treat the red-headed woman with kindness and consideration that was genuine, and it warmed Isabel's heart in a sensation she hadn't felt since before the countess' death. "We shall just have to place our trust in His capable hands."

"This is the usual. Much drinking and merriment by all, excepting me. I do not dance. I have two left feet. Any poor fellow who would find himself asking me for a partner would soon run away. I have spent so much time praying I am ready for something to cheer me."

While slightly dismayed to learn that the evening's festivities were the usual, Lady Catherine's last sentiment awoke a determination in Isabel to not let the knowledge make her dismal company. Instead, she turned to trying to suggest cheering activities for Lady Catherine. It certainly seemed that she needed some laughter. "Instead of dancing, there are always riddles that could be told, or jokes." Isabel said, straightening in her posture. "I have one that was told to me by the darling son of one of the servants at the last house I lived, and I found it very clever." Isabel smiled at Lady Catherine before asking, "How long did Cain hate his brother?" She waited for her response before replying, "As long as he was Abel." The red-headed woman grinned wolfishly at Catherine before allowing herself a a giggle. "It's very simple, but it does make me laugh."

Her full lips pursed at Isabel's words. Catherine was trying not to giggle at what the other woman said, and it was obvious because her eyes were sparkling in amusement and she finally smiled. "Do you know such things for a fact?" she teased. "For if you spend much time in prayer as I do, and walk round with your nose up in horror at the way others behave at court, I would think you are as ignorant as I am." Finally she giggled. "Though talking to a handsome man is sometimes an enjoyable thing, especially if he is clever. That makes it all the more fun!" She knew some women at court were light with their favors, and while Catherine thought herself much better than them, Isabel didn't seem at all to be one of those women. They had much in common, she thought, or at least it seemed like they did.

When the conversation turned to more serious matters, such as that of the Queen, Catherine nodded, heart-felt, along with Isabel's words. She crossed herself out of habit, saying, "I do pray every day that He has His hands on her and is healing her. It does make me quite fearful of such things whenever my time comes to be a mother, though the little Princess is quite sweet." Her voice was gentle and soft speaking of her royal mistress and the little Princess she was godmother to. She knew she probably had no smile on her face now, thinking on what was going on outside the great hall. She felt everything strongly, and jumping around from emotion to emotion was not at all uncommon. Catherine had become skilled at hiding such things, but with Isabel, it wasn't needed.

The thoughtful little frown faded as she laughed at the joke Isabel told. It lightened the feeling of sadness that settled in Catherine's heart every time she thought of poor Madge. Smiling, Catherine reached out to touch Isabel's arm gently, barely touching the older lady before she pulled away. It was no embrace, but that was far too familiar; it was Catherine's attempt to say thank you without saying it. "I fear I am not very clever with jokes and riddles and such. Anyone would need to explain every detail for me to understand! But the joke is clever, with the play on words." She paused. "I would suggest you go do something to entertain yourself, such as dance, instead of stand here talking to me... but if I came to dance with you, every man would flee the room in fear of his toes!"

The color that flared up in Isabel's cheeks at Lady Catherine's query about whether or not she knew what she spoke of handsome men for a fact. "I... I confess I do not." Isabel admitted, a nervous and humble laugh escaping her lips, and she bowed her head slightly, feeling the heat blooming from her cheeks. "I am as you say, though I can assume -- and dream." The redhead's cheeks now threatened to overpower the tint of her hair as she continued. "I do not honestly expect to learn for myself first hand -- I count myself too careful for that." Isabel let out another peal of laughter, less nervous and humble this time, and she raised her head back to it's former height.

"I do pray every day that He has His hands on her and is healing her. It does make me quite fearful of such things whenever my time comes to be a mother, though the little Princess is quite sweet."

Isabel nodded in understanding and agreement. She had all the faith in the Lord, and was certain He would make the Queen well again. Without saying anything pertaining to Her Majesty, for she did not want her new acquaintance to become melancholy, the older woman turned her attention to the little Princess. "I absolutely adore children, and I am certain a daughter of His and Her Majesty could never be anything short of angelic." Isabel smiled widely. "For certain there is risk in bringing life into the world, but I am sure that the reward far outweighs the danger." Of that too, Isabel could only dream. She was twenty-two, well on her way to being a spinster. Oh, if only she could marry and bare children of her own! -- But that was for the Lord and her family to decide. Once again, she would pace her trust into His hands.

The redheaded woman was satisfied and delighted that her joke made Lady Catherine laugh -- It was a simple one, but humorous nonetheless. The touch on Isabel's arm made her bow her head in acknowledgment, and she felt an increasing comfort with the Lady Catherine. A good soul at court, and such a delightful one too! Isabel would have never thought to meet such a young woman so soon after her arrival and the things she had witnessed since. Isabel nodded at the compliment of the joke, and she said, "All credit is due to that sweet little boy, not I -- and anyone can remember a riddle or joke, it is simply the manner in which it is told that I think it most difficult."

"I would suggest you go do something to entertain yourself, such as dance, instead of stand here talking to me... but if I came to dance with you, every man would flee the room in fear of his toes!"

Laughing, Isabel said, "Nonsense! I would not abandon you to go and dance with men that might have overindulged themselves to drink -- Though I do love dancing, I [i]do not[i] like having my toes trod upon." The redhead grinned wolfishly at Lady Catherine. "And I am sure you are being simply modest, Lady Catherine, but I shan't press you to prove me right. And I must confess that I need no more diversion than a kind and unexpected person to talk to, and at the moment I find myself quite satisfied in that regard." Once again, Isabel imparted a warm smile to the younger girl, her blue eyes sparkling in the soft light.