Light notes filled the background of the Queen's antechamber. Olivia sat at the tufted benched seat of an ornately guilded harpsichord. It was a fairly new instrument, hailing from Italy. Olivia had written home upon arriving in England, asking her father to send one of her own, for only Italy knew how to truly make a harpsichord.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Anything for my little Olivia.</span><br/><br/>Had been his reply within the flourished writing of his letter. She corresponded often with her family. They were near and dear to her. Often times Olivia's prayers were for each of them, and always her confessionals included her worry for them. She knew the Lord God her Heavenly Father commanded her to cast aside her worries, but it was just so hard to do sometimes. Still, she was grateful and there was no better day to realize it than the Resurrection.<br/><br/>Olivia's morning was not dissimilar to any other noble lady's morning. She rose early, as was proper, washed her face and hands. Her maidservant, retained from Italy and with her in France, helped her to dress in an appropriate gown of ivory silk. High necked and long sleeved, it was chaste, without being homely. Champagne embroidery ran along the bodice of her gown. Lace lined the ends of her sleeves, not quite hiding her hands in their delicate ruffles. Soft slippers adorned her feet, unseen beneath the lengths of her silken skirts and petticoats. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a simple three strand braid, a few tendrils framed her youthful face, accentuating the gentle slopes of her neck.<br/><br/>Without much of an appetite, Olivia skipped breakfast, instead opting for a sunrise stroll amongst the palace gardens. It was one of her more frequented places, especially in the mornings, and today it was exceptionally lovely. The sky was cast in beautiful hues as the sun rose. Olivia loved to watch the shadow of night creep from the sleeping foliage as the Lord's light filled the sky. The morning's walk was short, spent in silent prayer and meditation. With her mind crisp and clear,  Olivia did make an appearance at morning mass. While she was sure she would not be missed, Olivia did not wish to cause any unnecessary trouble for her sister, Queen Emanuela.<br/><br/>Her arrival in England did not cause much a stir, for it had been in the wake of the royal wedding. King Raphael had just been crowned, what was one more young noble lady? Not that Olivia minded. Without the fuss and attention, Olivia was assimilating fairly well to life in England. Although, as time moved on, a few lesser nobles had taken notice of her and began to wonder just who she was.<br/><br/>After mass, Olivia now found herself in the Queen's antechamber, playing softly behind the small talk and gossip of Emanuela's ladies as they embroidered. Olivia was not one to sit and sew, instead she preferred to compose melodies. Amongst her hidden things were journals of poems, songs, and music she dared show no one. Still, on this morning of the Resurrection, Olivia played a few livelier originals in celebration of Christ's triumph over death. "You play beautifully." One of Emanuela's ladies had approached Olivia, her hoop left at her cushioned seat, a wine goblet in her hands instead.<br/><br/>Olivia's eyes rose to meet the other woman's, a bright smile pulled at her lips. "Thank you, Lady Elenore. If you wish to learn, I would be more than happy to teach." Her melodic voice was heavily accented, but not discernible as she spoke slowly, careful to be sure she was using the correct words. Olivia found the longer she was here, the easier English was to speak. Elenore went to reply, but a maidservant slipped into the room, announcing the King's summons of Queen Emanuela and her ladies.<br/><br/>Olivia rose with the rest of the room as her sister did. While she was not technically considered one of Emanuela's ladies maids, Olivia could sense her sister's growing nervousness over the past few days. She was fiercely loyal and would not leave Emanuela to face the wolves alone. Besides, Olivia had yet to be properly introduced to the King since her arrival. It was to be expected. As a new King, he had been busy, with nary any time for his own wife, let alone others. Olivia reached for Emanuela, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze and smile before falling into step just behind her.