Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Once the queen released them, Rosie, her mother, and Snow spent the rest of the day resting from their journey and preparing for the betrothal dinner that was to be held that night in Frederick and Snow’s honor.
Rosie sighed as she studied herself in the full-length mirror.
After wearing Mayra’s dress in the carriage the day before, and then to the queen’s tea that morning, it was looking more than a little tired.
Normally, a wrinkled dress wouldn’t have bothered her in the slightest. But this was the palace.
Attending a royal betrothal dinner in a dress that was most decidedly dirty and rumpled wasn’t really something she looked forward to.
Your gowns will be finished as soon as possible, the queen had assured them that morning. In the meantime, as Snow will be attending more royal functions, I’ll send a few more gowns from my wardrobe for the seamstress to alter so she’s not without proper attire for any event.
Well, Rosie drew in a deep breath, at least the bride would look lovely. And that was most important.
When a knock sounded at her door, Rosie startled slightly before smoothing her hair once more and then hurrying to answer. She nearly fell over when it wasn’t her sister or even Frederick at the door, but the crown prince.
“Good evening, Lady Rose,” he said with a bow.
“I… Your Highness.” Rosie fell into what she hoped was a decent curtsy.
“Please,” he said in his deep, rumbling voice, “call me Jonathan.”
Rosie was not entirely confident she could do that, but she did her best to smile.
“Thank you. That’s… very kind.” As she spoke, however, the memory of her sarcasm toward the mean girl the day before returned to her, and she almost grimaced.
Hopefully, the girl and the crown prince weren’t very good friends.
His eyes moved up and down her person–not in a leering way as some men might–but almost as though he were trying to sum up her person in a single glance. Did he scrutinize everyone he met the way he always seemed to study her?
Oh, please don’t let him look too hard, Rosie prayed. Not, at least, until she’d had a chance to wash her dress. And yet, she still had the feeling, as she had every time he looked at her, that he was trying to peer into her soul.
“I’ve come to escort you and your mother to supper to make sure you know the way,” he said, seeming suddenly to realize that she was still standing in her doorway.
“Oh.” She nodded, and as she did, she saw Frederick standing beside Snow at her door, beaming down at her as she took his arm. “Again, that’s… that’s kind of you.” She paused. “My mother–”
“Is our next stop.” He held out his arm, and as there was nothing else to do, she took it, trying not to panic as it dawned on her that she was taking the arm of Dulcinia’s crown prince.
As soon as her arm was resting on his, he led her to her mother’s door down the hall. And as he had done with Rosie, he knocked on her mother’s door. But when her mother answered, she was shaking and pale.
“Good evening, madame,” he said kindly. “May I escort you to supper?”
But Rosie didn’t wait to hear her answer. “Mother!” she exclaimed. “What’s wrong?”
“I… I’m so sorry, Your Highness!” her mother said in a faltering voice. “I’m afraid I’m not… I’m not feeling well. Not, at least, well enough to attend tonight.”
“Are you ill?” Rosie demanded, letting go of the prince’s arm and touching her mother’s face.
“Just… just tired from… from the journey.” Her mother gave her a weak smile. “You go, my love. Take care of your sister. I’ll feel much better when I have rested.”
Rosie wanted very much to argue with her mother, and she was sorely tempted to demand to stay with her.
But then again, her mother hadn’t traveled farther than their village since their father had died.
Everything they had done since arriving at the palace–attending meals with strangers and being the center of attention–was everything her mother feared.
Since they’d left their cottage, Rosie had feared this very thing.
“Should I send for the physician?” Prince Jonathan asked. When Rosie turned, she was surprised to see that he was addressing her rather than her mother.
“I think she might feel better if she could have some restorative tea… and some lavender,” Rosie said slowly. When her mother nodded profusely, she turned back to the prince. “If that’s possible?”
He nodded. “Of course. As soon as I see a servant, I’ll send some down.”
A moment later, her mother’s door was shut tightly once again, and Rosie found herself walking the halls of the castle alone with the crown prince. Snow and Frederick had already gone.
After a moment of walking, Prince Jonathan broke the quiet. “Are the rooms of your suite to your liking?”
“Oh, they’re wonderful.” Rosie smiled. “I didn’t know such luxury existed.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He glanced down at her. “From what my brother tells me, I can only assume all of this change came as quite a shock to your family.”
Rosie chuckled. “That’s an understatement. One day, we were in the same cottage we were born in, doing chores and walking the forest, and the next day, my sister was betrothed to a prince, and he was sweeping us all away.”
They turned a corner.
“I’m sure you will miss it. Your old life, I mean,” he said.
Rosie sighed. “I already do.”
“What do you miss about it?”
“The work,” she answered without thinking.
He paused and looked at her, his eyes widening. “Truly?”
Rosie met his confused gaze before laughing a little. “I suppose that seems a silly thing to say, but I can promise you, Your Highness, that I am terrible at being indolent. I spent half the day pacing my rooms trying to decide what to do.”
“You needn’t hide in your suite, you know,” he said seriously. “The castle is your home. You’re not a prisoner.”
Rosie shook her head wistfully. “I hope to feel that way soon.” Then she threw her hand over her mouth and gasped. “Oh, Your Highness! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to imply–”
“Please don’t apologize,” he said in a grave voice. “You can feel however you wish to feel.”
Rosie nodded, but she could feel her face heat with embarrassment. She mentally kicked herself as they turned down yet another hall. Hopefully, they would reach the dining hall soon, she thought as they began to descend a set of stairs.
Rosie had never been good at small talk. She was too frank, Snow liked to tease her. She would tell the truth until it got her into trouble for her efforts.
But then again, the prince himself seemed far less gregarious than his brother, and though his words were polite, they didn’t clutter up the space around them. If only she could speak like him. Honest yet kind.
To her relief, they arrived at the great front entry. From there, they quickly moved to the dining hall, which was now full of people.
Unlike the night before, however, the crowd seemed to sparkle. Women wore diamonds and other precious gems on their fingers, around their wrists, on their necks, and in their hair. The men were nearly as bright and polished in their colored breeches, ruffled shirts, and shiny boots.
“There you are!” Frederick called from across the large room.
He and Snow were standing at the head of a line of people.
Rosie hoped they would allow her to simply watch from the side, but her hopes were in vain.
Jonathan immediately moved to stand at Snow’s left so that all those who met Frederick and Snow would immediately move on to meet Jonathan and Rosie.
Snow gave Rosie a questioning look, but Rosie just shook her head, and Snow sighed.
She didn’t seem surprised either that their mother had suddenly felt ill.
But then the introductions started, and Rosie was so overwhelmed that she had little time to think of her mother.
She met lords and ladies, earls and countesses, dukes and duchesses, and many more individuals she would never be able to name again.
They all bowed and curtsied low to Jonathan and then to her, but Rosie couldn’t help noticing the number of ladies who smirked slightly when they glanced up from looking at her dress.
It doesn’t matter, she chided herself. I’m probably imagining it. And if I’m not… Well, it doesn’t matter.
“Lady Rose,” Prince Jonathan said, reclaiming her attention. “Let me introduce you to Lady Sandra and her daughter, Miss Marianne. They are visiting from our neighboring kingdom, Thornhope. Lady Sandra’s husband is my father’s top military officer, General William Radish.”
Rosie was dismayed to see that Lady Sandra was none other than the woman who had glared at her the entire evening before.
And her daughter, Miss Marianne–the one who had mocked Rosie for her question about dinner–was now openly sneering at Rosie’s dress.
But Rosie did her best to swallow her pride and smile as she returned their curtsies.
“How do you do?” she asked. “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.” But her words were belied by the awareness that she’d publicly questioned Miss Marianne’s intelligence the evening before.
“Of course,” Lady Sandra replied coolly. Before she could say more, though, Miss Marianne laced her arm through Prince Jonathan’s right arm and smiled sweetly up at him.
“I’m ready to go to dinner when you are, Sire.”
Rosie froze. She couldn’t even pretend to know the prince well. Their entire acquaintance had been made up of the four minutes of talk they’d shared as they’d walked the halls. But if he left her now to escort Miss Marianne, Rosie would have to find a place to sit on her own.
And as much as she dreaded facing the crowd with the prince at her side, she dreaded facing it alone even more.
Much to her relief, however, and Miss Marianne’s obvious disappointment, he only gave the girl a kind smile and said, “As lovely as your company is, Miss Marianne, Lady Rose is my partner for supper tonight. Frederick has asked me to help her settle in.”