21
I was determined to spend all of next day finishing the shirt, as I had only managed to press the collar and stitch up the sides during the night. But my plans were ruined when Lady Marianna knocked on my door in the afternoon.
“Narcissa? Join me in the kitchen, will you?” she said mysteriously before disappearing.
I was disgruntled at being interrupted, but annoyance at Lady Marianna wasn’t sustainable. The delectable aroma of baked goods and the toasty temperature instantly improved my mood as I entered the kitchen.
“Gently, dear. Don’t dent my cookware,” Lady Marianna said to Prince Ash, who was putting away pots with unnecessary clanging. She smiled when she saw me. “Just in time. Come, come.”
She led me to the counter in the center where a selection of desserts, golden brown and glazed, were spread out in neat rows. “I thought you could help me choose what Bennett would like for his birthday.”
I bit my cheek. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with his tastes.”
Prince Ash joined us at the counter. “Redheads,” he said in a singsong voice.
I blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
He laughed. “Don’t tell me you never noticed Bennett staring at you when we were younger.”
I scoffed. If he liked me, Mother’s plan would have come to fruition years ago. “You told me he wasn’t interested in anything but old books,” I said.
Prince Ash shrugged. “Mostly. But I’d say he thought you pretty for a year or so. Your personality, on the other hand—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
“Ash! Stop teasing her,” Lady Marianna scolded. “We were talking about desserts. ”
Prince Ash popped a puff pastry into his mouth, wiping the crumbs on his waistcoat. “You should try the raspberry tarts. Amarante gave me the recipe. They’re heavenly.”
The three of us spent the next thirty minutes tasting the desserts. Mother would have never allowed me to eat so many sweets at once, and for good reason. Though I felt nauseated by the end of it, I rather enjoyed the warm atmosphere and Lady Marianna and Prince Ash’s banter.
At last, we narrowed it down to three dishes—honey-glazed puff pastries, sugar-dusted raspberry tarts, and pumpkin pie baked to golden-brown perfection.
“It’s your call, Narcissa,” Lady Marianna said.
I chose the last without hesitation, though for purely selfish reasons. I hadn’t tasted a pumpkin pie since the tour began. If Crown Prince Bennett were as impassive as Lady Marianna said, he would have no issue with it.
Prince Ash reached for his tenth puff pastry. “Perfect. We’ll surprise Bennett with it tomorrow night.”
“His birthday is tomorrow?” I said, alarmed.
Lady Marianna nodded, clearing off the counter with a smile. “He’s turning twenty-one. Doesn’t time fly?”
Younger than Maddox. Somehow I always assumed the crown prince was older from the way he carried himself.
I excused myself shortly after and returned to my room, charged with energy from the sweets. I had to finish the shirt today.
Misty wasn’t present, though a glance out the window showed her perusing the yard with Pippin. I didn’t have time to dwell on their newfound friendship before pouring myself into sewing.
It was midnight when I knocked on Giselle’s door. The witch was miraculously awake, surrounded by piles of fabric and half-drafted patterns. There were dark circles under her eyes, which I was sure matched mine.
She took the shirt and inspected it. In the dim light, it looked like a misshapen bedsheet.
“You didn’t finish any of the seams,” she said accusingly, picking off a loose thread.
I nursed my throbbing fingers. “Does it matter? He can still wear it.”
Giselle sighed and pulled out her own needle and thread. “Give me a minute.”
Quite literally a minute later, Giselle had the seams neatly felled. She folded the shirt, tied it off with a velvet ribbon, and gave it back to me. “I’m sure Benny boy will be thrilled,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Off to bed with you now.”
Despite being blissfully done with the shirt, sleep did not overtake me immediately. I spent a good two hours staring at the ribboned bundle in the dark, wondering how I could possibly give it to him, if at all. Would Giselle know if I didn’t? The only reason I bothered with this was because of the overbearing seamstress.
THE NEXT MORNING WAS a strange one. Breakfast was quieter than usual, the silverware making more noise than the people. Crown Prince Bennett excused himself halfway through, claiming to have unfinished paperwork.
“He’s always like this on his birthday,” Prince Ash whispered to me after the crown prince left the table. “He avoids us like we’re about to spring a surprise party on him. ”
“We won’t,” Lady Marianna said, smiling at my questioning look. “Let him busy himself all he wants. Tonight he’s getting a home-cooked meal and pumpkin pie. And a gift from you, I heard.”
The embellishment on my plate suddenly became very interesting. Horsefeathers. I had no choice but to give it to him now that everyone knew.
“It’s nothing special, Lady Marianna,” I said stiffly, arranging my eggs to the center of the plate.
Her eyes glimmered with mirth. “Please, dear, call me aunt. You are going to be my niece-in-law.”
Ulysses came down soon after to inform me of today’s events. We were going to the Vandil witch market to inspect the popular fabric shop the textile merchants favored.
“Dress warmly, milady. I have a feeling it may rain,” he said.
We set off for the city with a few guards. Besides speaking with Ulysses about the schedule, Crown Prince Bennett spent the trip stone-faced and silent. I had never seen someone look so dismal on their birthday—with the exception of myself.
Mother rarely put effort into making the day feel special unless it was for show. The crown prince, on the other hand, had family members willing to throw genuine festivities. What was keeping him from celebrating?
THE WITCH MARKET WAS bustling with people despite the early morning cold. In contrast to the rigid stone structures of the rest of the city, the market had the rounded architecture of the past, with curved storefronts and thatched roofs .
Grocery stores, quaint bakeries, and the notorious shops that robbed many of business lined the cobblestone streets, overlooking the canal. The water lapped against the ruddy bricks of the bridge, clear and sparkling in the overcast sky.
The three of us entered a fabric shop, our guards lingering back at the entrance. I was assaulted by a torrent of bright colors and unique textures, each arranged in neat bolts. One of them was a lilac that shifted to pale green, very much like the fabric of Elowyn’s dress.
A middle-aged witch greeted us, fair brows raising in recognition. “Your Highness, Lady Narcissa. It’s an honor to have you here.”
Crown Prince Bennett began asking questions about the logistics of the store’s operation. The witch, who introduced herself as Pamela, spent the next hour showing us around the store and to the back, where several witches sat hard at work. Some looms were weaving by themselves. I asked what kind of magic was involved with their duochrome silks.
“The concept is quite simple. There doesn’t have to be magic involved at all,” Pamela said with a laugh. “We use two different colors for the warp and weft yarns. It produces a shifting effect.”
“Are there any fabrics that do involve magic?” I asked, curious.
Pamela gave me a smile. “Certainly. Our satins and chiffons require the most delicate handiwork. Impossible to do by hand, so we use magic,” she said, gesturing to a self-weaving loom. The moving threads were practically invisible, but the fabric looked like water, shimmering delicately in the light.
We perused the workroom for another hour. At some point, it felt that the crown prince was repeating unnecessary questions, and it became clear we were overstaying our welcome. Ulysses eventually convinced us to leave.
Crown Prince Bennett, however, had no intention of returning to the manor any time soon. The three of us spent the entire day inspecting the market, taking our lunch at one of the bakeries, and riding along the canal.
Lady Marianna was right. It was lovely. Or, it would have been if Ulysses didn’t lose his lunch into the water.
We drifted along for some time, our guards following close, until the sky darkened with clouds and a light drizzle began to fall.
“Really, Highness. I must insist we return,” Ulysses said, motioning for the boatman to let us back onto land.
“Do you think, Ulysses, that the kingdom can tour itself?” Crown Prince Bennett said irritably as we climbed up onto the street. The steward tossed the boatman a coin and ducked underneath a lamppost. It did little to keep the rain off him.
Miraculously, the roofs of the shops were dry. The precipitation was repelled by an invisible sheen of magic. I wished it extended a little further so I could take cover.
“No, but drifting in circles hardly counts as touring the kingdom, Your Highness,” he said. “Just because it’s your birth—”
Crown Prince Bennett gave him an icy look that rivaled the raindrops drenching my hair.
“We are all exhausted, Your Highness. And the guards can’t very well do their jobs properly when they’re frozen stiff,” Ulysses said, straightening. He wiped his spectacles on his coat, but it only wet the lenses more.
I was sure my ears were going to fall off from the cold. Thankfully my wool spencer kept the rain off my shoulders. I couldn’t say the same for my skirts. Still, I feigned indifference as the crown prince regarded us.
“Fine. Let us return.” He turned on his heel, his greatcoat billowing behind him.
It was difficult not to sigh in relief when we returned to the warmth of the manor. Lady Marianna ushered us in, tutting at our drenched state.
“You three ought to dry off at the fireplace,” she said. “Oh, and dinner is ready!”
The crown prince shrugged off his sopping coat and gave it to a passing servant. “I have reports to start.”
Lady Marianna stopped him with a stern look. “Nonsense. You just came back. At least sit down and have something to eat.”
“I’m sorry Aunt Marianna.” He left before she could say anything else. Hurt flashed across her features.
I looked incredulously at his retreating figure. What did he have against birthdays that made him blow off his aunt and a decent meal ?
After drying off, Ulysses and I joined Lady Marianna, Prince Ash, and Giselle in the dining room where a variety of dishes were laid out with more care than usual. In the middle of it all was a pumpkin pie, finished off with a dollop of cream in the center.
The ambiance of the meal felt rather bleak, and though the food was delicious, it didn’t entirely distract from Lady Marianna’s frown and Prince Ash’s uncharacteristic silence.
“Narcissa. Do me a favor, dear?”
I looked up from the remnants of my pie. Lady Marianna met my gaze across the table. I was surprised to see a glint of determination, and if I wasn’t mistaken, mischief, in her eyes.
“Yes?” I said hesitantly.
“Bring Bennett some food, will you? And a nice big slice of pumpkin pie. He should be about done with those reports.”
I hardly had time to stand before Lady Marianna grabbed a plate of food and some utensils, arranging them neatly on a silver tray. She thrust it into my hands.
Giselle jumped up. “Wait one second!” The seamstress ran up the stairs and came back with a familiar bundle tied off with a purple velvet ribbon. She placed it beside the plate, giving me a wink.
“I—”
“If anyone can get Bennett out of his birthday blues, it’s you,” Prince Ash said before I could protest.
“But why?” I said, bewildered.
“Because you’re going to be his wife and one simply cannot be angry at one’s wife. That would be most unwise,” Lady Marianna said, pinching my cheeks and rearranging my hair. “There. Pretty as a pansy. Albeit a little damp. Hurry now, before the food goes cold! ”
I was ushered up the stairs despite my aching feet and my objections. Crown Prince Bennett’s suite was at the end of the empty hallway, his door firmly shut.
I huffed. I much preferred finishing my pie instead of subjecting myself to his cantankerous mood, but I knocked thrice nonetheless, the sound feebly quiet.
The door opened. Crown Prince Bennett glanced at the food, then at me. His waistcoat was rumpled, shirt open at the throat. He was still damp from the rain.
“Your aunt wanted me to bring you dinner,” I said after a beat.
“I’m not hungry.”
I was half-tempted to shove the tray in his hands and leave, but one look down the hall showed me Giselle and Lady Marianna making encouraging gestures. I exhaled, shoving my shoulder against the door before the crown prince could close it.
“Yes, you are,” I said. “You hardly ate anything today.”
He blinked. “Lady Narcissa, I believe I am more acquainted with the state of my stomach than you are.”
I pressed my lips together. Why was he being so difficult? “At least let me come in and sit. My feet are sore. And I’m freezing.”
This seemed to get through to him. He stepped aside to let me pass, and I set the tray down on the nearest table. The woodsy scent of cedar and spices enveloped me as I surveyed his room. A wide window seat took over the opposite wall. His bed was neatly made and the rest of the furniture was arranged in a way that lined up perfectly with the floor tiles.
The space was spotless. The only exception was the mess of papers strewn across his desk. A fire burned happily in the fireplace, warm and inviting. I didn’t miss the sturdy grate secured over it .
The crown prince shut the door. He regarded me with an unreadable expression.
“Are you going to sit?” he asked.
I grabbed the armchair before his desk and took a seat, scrambling for my next words. I felt like a pigeon on a bench. And the crown prince was the cat staring at me.
It seemed my knowledge of language had vanished without a trace. I blamed it on the lungfuls of masculine fragrance I was inhaling, though why it was affecting me so much was beyond me.
“Try some of the pie,” I managed to say, nudging the plate over to him.
Crown Prince Bennett took it wordlessly, though he didn’t make a move to eat. I was reminded of the time Lady Vanessa had visited me, pumpkin pie in hand, to tell me about her arranged marriage to Father. Had I been as frustratingly unresponsive as the crown prince?
I cleared my throat. It felt odd that one of us was sitting and the other wasn’t. “Should we move to the window, Your Highness?”
“Bennett,” he said abruptly, breaking away from the door and taking a seat at the window. He wet his lips. “Your Highness is too ceremonious at this point.”
I took the tray and joined him, shifting slightly on the cushions. “As you wish. Bennett,” I said, trying the name.
My throat still felt tight even now that I had permission, though perhaps this time it was because of his gaze. Prince Ash was wrong about him staring at me as children. I would have felt it a mile away.
I gripped the tray tighter. The shirt was dangerously close to soaking up the gravy on the plate beside it. All I had to do was give it to him and leave. My palms felt clammy as I reached for the bundle.
“Here,” I said, holding it out.
Bennett took it and turned it over, fingers trailing across the linen. “What is it?”
It was difficult meeting his eyes. I settled on the spot between his groomed eyebrows instead.
“A gift,” I said. Scowling at his questioning look, I turned to the window panes. They fogged up at my breath. “People give gifts on birthdays, don’t they?”
The velvet ribbon unfurled. Bennett held up the lopsided garment I had painstakingly stitched together in the past week.
“It’s not my best work,” I mumbled, rattling the tray as I prepared to leave. “I’m assuming you have reports to finish?”
He made a move to stand with me but leaned back at the last second. “No. No, not at all,” he said, carefully tucking the shirt over his arm. “You may sit for longer. If you like.”
The door was tempting. But for some idiotic reason, I returned to the window. “Only if you tell me why you hate birthdays so much,” I said.
He paused. “I do not.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You were as sulky as a child today, Your Highness.”
“Bennett,” he corrected. “I was not sulky.”
I stared at him long enough until he broke his gaze. “Very well, so I was,” he said. He swallowed. I tried not to be too distracted by his open collar. “I’ve lost my taste for birthdays when the Earl of Alevine celebrated his eighty-fifth.”
“The one where he fell into his fountain, drunk?”
I recalled the event vividly, despite being seven at the time. I had been shocked by the elderly earl’s behavior as he sang bawdy tavern tunes and guzzled down two bottles of whiskey. His lordship passed away the week after. I suppose he wanted to make a lasting impression.
Bennett gave me a sidelong glance. “You were there?”
“The whole five hours.”
His lips quirked, but he smoothed the grin away with his fingers.
I wished he hadn’t.
“You know, my birthday celebration wouldn’t have been as distasteful,” I said.
“Yours?”
Of course, he didn’t remember how he had refused to go to my eighth birthday party. Or how rude his rejection was.
I was about to brush it off, but realization dawned on his face. “I—” He stopped. “I should have been more polite. Apologies.”
The injured child in me spoke before I could stop her. “I didn’t have a birthday because of you.”
Bennett tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
My mouth went dry. What was I supposed to say? That Mother desperately wanted us to be friends in hopes of us becoming something more? That she punished me for my failure? That she had given up for a moment and betrothed me to the general’s son when I was still a child? He would be disgusted. Heavens, I was disgusted.
“Nothing. I’m bothering you. I should go.” I stood again. My skin felt clammy, a chill biting my collarbones. My dress had yet to dry completely .
“No. Stay...if you please.”
Our gazes collided. My knees weakened on their own accord and lowered me back beside him, closer this time. The ends of my hair brushed Bennett’s arm. His was in boyish disarray, dark locks falling over his forehead. I looked askance, suddenly shy.
“My father didn’t want me wasting my time,” he said quietly. “He said celebrations were frivolous. He didn’t like them much himself. I assumed that was part of being a ruler.”
Frivolous. At least now I knew what it meant.
“Celebrating your own birthday isn’t against the rules,” I said.
“The mentality is a little difficult to get rid of,” Bennett said with a short laugh.
I stilled, feeling his breath ruffle my hair. I twisted a strand hard between my fingers to center myself. “Lady Marianna only wanted to give you a nice dinner.”
He shrugged. “My aunt has been overbearing in her celebration tactics in the past. I’ve learned to avoid her,” he said. “But you’re right. I should apologize.”
How odd that the crown prince of Olderea wasn’t comfortable celebrating his own birthday because of the king.
Bennett’s gaze fell to my left hand, which rested between us. “You’re not wearing your ring.”
I had forgotten it in my dress pocket last month. It was surely back at Greenwood Abbey. He was wearing his, a plain gold band on his ring finger. I never noticed it before. If we were a love match, I would have given him a ring too. But our union was one of necessity. What would he think of me, leaving behind the very thing that symbolized our duty to the kingdom?
“It...didn’t fit,” I lied, cursing myself for my forgetfulness .
Bennett touched my hand, his fingertips rough and stained with ink. He ran a thumb over my ring finger. It was a light touch, but it sent a jolt through me. “Odd. I thought it would.”
I held my breath as his hand rose to brush a coppery strand of hair away from my face. He twisted it between his fingers and stared, as if admiring the color. It was awfully forward of him.
“Um...” I couldn’t manage a coherent word.
Bennett’s eyes flicked to mine, closer than ever. They were hazel, not brown like I thought. How did I miss that?
“Apologies,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I find myself in a strange mood.”
My stomach turned as it did the night of the Winter Solstice Ball, but this was a different sort of feeling. One I wasn’t sure I wanted to identify.
The window seat was shrinking. Or was he leaning closer?
“Your Highness!”
The door burst open. Bennett and I sprung away from each other as Lord Frederick came in, eyes wide and hair disheveled. He bowed quickly.
“Forgive me for the interruption, but there’s news from the palace. The former duchess has attempted a prison break. The Royal Guard managed to stop her, but...I think there’s something you should see.”