Princess of Athelia: An Unfinished Fairy Tales Novella (7 page)

Edward has gone grouse-shooting with the men—a popular pastime with the titled and wealthy, so I am left with the women. Everyone is nauseatingly polite and respectful, even when I occasionally behave like a country bumpkin, which again reminds me of how they ignored me in the past. I’m sure few of the smiles they give me are sincere, and it bothers me that I have to paste a huge, fake smile on my face in return. Again, I wish Poppy or Elle were here with me.

At noon, when the men return with cartloads of game from the shooting, Constance insists on having a picnic outside since the weather is uncommonly warm today. Like a general barking orders to soldiers, she directs the servants to set up a buffet style table on the lawn, with clusters of small round tables under the trees. As I observe her discussing with the butler the choices of meat and the seating arrangements, I realize this is the kind of woman that Madame Dubois wants me to emulate. Organized, efficient, well acquainted with every single minute detail and rule. Which is so not me.

The table looks in danger of crashing from the weight of food placed on it. There are platters of pheasants and partridges and deer, a giant wooden bowl of salad greens, slabs of cheese and fresh rye bread, cakes and jellies and puddings, and coffee and tea. I don’t even know where to start.

I look for Edward, but he is already occupied with Philip, Henry, and other men. I suppose it isn’t appropriate that we stick together like glue all the time, so I quash the awkward, shy part of me that’s threatening to rear, and do my best to socialize. Even though I’d rather sit away from the crowd with a book.

“Where are the children?” I ask, looking around. I remember Rosie smiling shyly at me, and I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.

Constance looks surprised. “In the nursery, of course. It is the governess’s responsibility to take care of them.”

The tone of her voice suggests that I had said something foolish. Excuse me, but neither my lady nor princess lessons has covered anything concerning children. “Um, I just thought since the weather is so nice today, they might enjoy having lunch outside with us.”

“Children have no business mixing up with the grown-ups,” Lady Fremont says coldly. She’s been civil enough, but there’s something in her eyes that sparks of resentment. Which is perfectly understandable. Her two prospects for her daughter—Edward and Henry—have been snapped up by me and Elle. “They will have plenty of time for social activities in a few years.”

Constance digs a fork into her watercress salad. “God knows that I wish they never grow up. It really makes one feel old, you know. I know I shall resent it when the time comes for Rosie to be brought out.”

“How is Rosie getting along recently?” Lady Mansfield asks. She also treated me like I never existed, especially since I ruined her dinner party by splashing champagne on Andrew McVean, but now she can’t be more friendly. “Didn’t you tell us that your eldest tried to lead her astray?”

“She has much improved now, thank heaven.” Constance rubs her forehead as though to ward off a headache. “Tristan has always spoiled her dreadfully, but taking her to the woods to go climbing trees, jumping over stiles, and getting her frock dirty and torn? I had to put my foot down. I could not have my little girl growing up a savage.”

“You won’t have cause for worry, since most of the time the boys are away at boarding school.”

“Well, that reminds me. I need to give Tristan another talk when he comes back. He may have stopped with shaping her into a tomboy, but he’s been feeding Rosie’s head with ideas lately.”

“What kind of ideas?”

Constance presses her lips in a slash. “He calls them modern, but I call them dreadful. He lent Rosie his books at that boarding school—books that a pure-minded young girl shouldn’t be around. I confiscated one book that had pictures of the human anatomy. It is positively disgraceful for her to be learning about such distasteful stuff when she should be concentrating on her own lessons. I told her to put everything she read out of her mind and worry about performing a court curtsy.”

“You needn’t worry, Constance,” Lady Fremont says, simpering. “Considering that Rosie is your daughter, and a little beauty who takes after her mother, she won’t have much trouble with suitors.”

“Making the right choice for marriage is no easy deal,” Lady Petunia says, joining the conversation. “You don’t know how much I have pleaded with Henry to pick a suitable girl from a good family, but he has been fixated on that Bradshaw girl. She might no longer be a servant, but the fact remains that she lacks a lady’s education. Did you know that she offered to help me do my hair? As if I didn’t have enough maids for that.”

She sends me an irritated glance. As if I had anything to do with getting Henry and Elle together. If anything, my original goal was to separate them so Elle could marry Edward. But with so many women present, I’m worried that any defense of Elle might backfire and produce an opposite effect. From how Constance seemed so concerned about making Rosie into a little lady, I doubt any of them will approve of a union between Henry and Elle. Heck, I’m pretty sure that they don’t think too highly of me either—a girl who tripped over her feet during her presentation.

“Excuse me,” I murmur and get up. The aroma of roast pheasant is assailing my nose, and my mouth is watering after pretending to be satisfied with a meager plate of salad. Plus, I need a break from the conversation—it’s getting more and more difficult to smile and agree with their views.

I grab a plate and help myself liberally to food. Even in the palace, you can’t get pheasant that’s caught on the same day it’s cooked. Let Constance and the others gape at my appetite; I have endured their conversation all morning and I’ll be pissed off if I need to endure an empty stomach as well.

Laughter rings out near me, just when I poured myself a tall glass of lemonade to go with my piled plate. Then someone stumbles in my back, my hand is jolted, and a chunk of meat falls on my dress. Half of my lemonade spills down my front.

“Oh I’m so sorry!” Lillie gasps. “I was talking to Mother and didn’t notice you behind me.”

Her mother also apologizes profusely, but like Lady Fremont, I sense the same restrained resentment in her face. Unless I’m much mistaken, Lillie’s mother also harbors anger toward me—anger that I stole her daughter’s chance to be queen.

I tell myself to stop speculating; for all I know, they could be genuinely upset about humiliating me in front of the party.

“It’s all right, don’t worry about it.” I squat on the grass to pick up the meat off the ground. A small gasp comes from Lillie; immediately a servant rushes over and tells me not to trouble myself.

“Katriona . . .”

“I’m fine. Just excuse me for a moment.”

I slip away from the picnic buffet, dabbing my soaked front with a handkerchief. Actually I’m not too miffed about Lillie, since her accident gives me a perfect chance to get away from the crowd. I feel the need to breathe in privacy after all the socializing since breakfast.

Amelie doesn’t say anything when she learns what’s happened. There’s a peeved look on her face as she strips me down, tosses away the soiled dress, and laces me into a new gown. But when she finishes tying on my sash, she puts her hands on her hips.

“Don’t you think it’s an accident, Princess. That younger sister of Constance Maynard has been hankering after His Highness since her sister married Duke Philip.”

“I don’t think she could cause anything to come between Edward and me.” Judging from the age of Constance’s children, she must have married more than a decade ago. If Lillie knew Edward that early, he would have chosen her way before we met.

“I’m not saying that His Highness will change his affections, he’s hopeless. But what I’m saying is that you ought take a firmer stance. Make it clear that you won’t stand for any insult. You’re the princess.”

“So what do you suggest I should have done?” I ask, curious but also amused. “Pour the remaining lemonade in my glass over her dress?

A rare smile appears on her face. Amelie really looks prettier when she smiles. I wish she’d smile more often.

“Well, no,” she admits. “But while you’ve got a spirit when it comes to injustice, you’re not strong enough when dealing with those girls with the mind of a shark. You could have made her take responsibility for ruining your dress or warn her to be more careful the next time.”

I nod, remembering how Lillie gazes longingly at Edward whenever he isn’t looking in her direction. “If there is a next time.”

On my way back, I hear a little cry of pain. Under a large tree lies a girl in a crumpled heap. It’s the same girl who shrieked like the world’s end is coming when Krev let loose a mouse in the ball.

“You there,” she calls to a passing servant. “I tripped over a root and I think I sprained my ankle.”

“Certainly, miss,” the servant says anxiously. “I’ll fetch the family doctor for you.”

“No!” She exclaims in a vehement tone. “Go and find Henry—the duke of Somerset. It’s just a minor sprain, he will be able to see to it.”

“But we have a doctor on the premises . . .”

“Which part of my request escapes your understanding?” she says icily. “Now go!”

Is she trying to get Henry’s attention? Since Edward is already taken, it’s possible that Henry looks a lot more attractive at the moment. My gaze falls on a rose bush nearby, and an evil idea enters my head.

I stalk to the bush, pick up a twig lying on the grass, and hook a fat caterpillar onto the twig. I return to the girl, pretend that I’m just passing by, and tell her I’d go for a doctor.

“Oh, please don’t trouble yourself, Lady Katriona,” she says, flustered. Her attitude has changed completely from bossy to fawning. “I have already sent a servant.”

“Very well.” I drop the twig and the caterpillar lands on her dress. It wriggles for a second and starts to crawl.

“Eek!”

She lets out a shriek and leaps into the air—so high that I’m sure she broke her own record at the ball. Much to my amusement, she scrambles up and runs off with no sign of any injury. Her shrieks can still be heard even when she’s out of sight.

Muffled laughter reaches my ears. I look for the source and find Edward striding towards me, his shoulders shaking as he tries to suppress his laughter.

“What?”

“You . . . never fail to amaze me, Kat,” he says, his shoulders still shaking.

“I didn’t even have time to apologize to her when she took off running.” I grin sheepishly. “This Little Season thing really is as exaggerated as you described. By the way, how come you’re here?”

“I was concerned when you disappeared.” He gives me that intense gaze that I have become familiar with. “I told myself that you’re strong enough, that you wouldn’t care about the stupid mishap, but in the end I had to come and find you. And I find that not only are you completely unaffected, but you also scared off a scheming girl? Life is never dull when you’re in it.”

In the back of my mind, a voice whispers that this life isn’t going to last, but I push it down.

“I’m glad you came to get me,” I say, and I mean it. “It’s only half a day that we have been apart, and already I missed you. I wanted to come and sit with you, but you are with the men and I didn’t want to appear too needy . . .”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing. So what do you say that we steal away for some time alone?”

“I’d love to,” I say without thinking, and he smiles. “But won’t the others be concerned if we don’t show up?”

“The picnic is almost over and some have already retired to their rooms. Come,” he says, grasping my hand and leading me away. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Fallen leaves crunch under our feet as we make our way to the front of the house. There, surrounded by slender young fir trees, is the lake–smooth, glittering, and crystal clear.

Edward strides toward a small rowing boat and starts unwinding the rope that tethers the boat to shore. I quicken my pace, intending to help him, but the boat is already free by the time I reach him.

He turns to me and holds out his hand, his eyes glowing with heart-melting warmth. “I always like to come for a row whenever I visit Cousin Philip.”

I step carefully in the boat, careful not to let my long skirts catch around my shoes. Edward helps me before he steps in himself, then he takes the oars and we glide away on the mirror-like lake. The water laps quietly against the boat, and fresh air cools my skin, making me feel refreshed and peaceful and just . . . happy.

“I wish we could have a trip of our own,” I blurt. “Just for the two of us, without loads of people hanging around.”

Edward lets out a sigh, his expression regretful. “There is nothing else that I’d rather do, but we have been uncommonly busy lately, and I’m afraid that taking a trip for pleasure may reflect negatively on our family. Industrialization has solved many problems in this country, but it has also brought a new set of problems–as you are also well aware. There is much to deal with.”

Disappointment is evident in his tone. I reach out and squeeze his hand. “It’s all right,” I say softly. “There is still your garden. And the closet in the hallway.”

His mouth quirks up with amusement.

“Let us wait until after our engagement; perhaps the workload will lessen after my father and I review the reports from Parliament.” His eyes grow dreamy as he stares at the surrounding scenery. “I would like to show you Enrilth, the village where I grew up. It is not as glamorous as Northport, but I’m sure you would like it better.”

I nod and smile. Hopefully this dream of our own getaway will be realized one day.

There’s a tiny pop, and an ugly, pointed-eared creature appears, hanging a few feet above Edward’s head.

It’s Krev.

11

Krev has followed me to Northport? Since I entered the palace, I’ve tried calling to him a couple times, but he never responded. Not that he paid much heed even when I kept yelling for him to help me get out of Athelia. Still, I’d expect him to check up on me sometimes. It seemed that once Edward chose me at the ball, Krev considered his mission done and wouldn’t have anything more to do with me. Then what is he doing here?