Chapter 4 #2
Miss Marianne blinked rapidly up at him as though she couldn’t believe her ears, but Lady Sandra took her daughter by the arm and gently reminded her that they were holding up the line.
As the next set of guests was introduced, Rosie couldn’t help wondering if Prince Jonathan was as content to escort her tonight as he appeared to be, or if he was only too polite to let on that he would have preferred Miss Marianne, who seemed to expect him to pair off with her.
She would never ask, of course. Not even she was that candid.
But it did make her wonder what kinds of alliances and animosities she was walking into.
It felt much like walking into a spider’s web and finding oneself caught in an invisible, sticky mass of entanglements.
Entanglements already made stickier by her heedless words from the night before.
Finally, the trumpets announced the arrival of the king and queen, and as soon as they were seated, everyone else headed toward the tables.
Prince Jonathan held out his arm to Rosie once again before leading her to the same table as the night before.
There he pulled out a chair for her two seats away from the king.
Once she was seated, he sat in the chair beside the king’s.
As she sat, Rosie glanced up to see Miss Marianne’s eyes on her, glaring daggers at both of them.
After the prayer of thanks was given, the feasting began, and as Prince Jonathan spoke mostly with his father, and Rosie’s other neighbor appeared to be deaf, it gave her time to gather her thoughts.
What was it, she wondered to herself, that had made her so worried about being separated from Prince Jonathan before dinner?
Was it because he was Frederick’s brother, and she had come to trust Frederick with her life?
That was part of it, she guessed. Even though he had been in his bear form for the vast majority of their acquaintance, Frederick had protected the girls and their mother jealously whenever he was with them.
And she knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t have entrusted her to his brother if he hadn’t felt she would be safe with him.
But there was something else, she decided as she studied the sharp angles of Prince Jonathan’s jaw.
His manners, while somewhat distant, didn’t seem contrived as so many in the castle appeared to be.
She had already seen more false smiles and simpering that night than she ever had in her life.
But Prince Jonathan’s countenance and words were…
straightforward. Unadorned. And after the evening of forced introductions and grandiose compliments paid to her while she stood beside him, that was brilliantly refreshing.
Not long into the dinner, the king stood and began to make a speech.
“You know that we had all but given up hope of ever getting our son back,” he said, looking down at Frederick with obvious fondness. “But thanks to Providence and three brave ladies who took him in as their own, I’m not only regaining my son, but I’m gaining a daughter as well.”
Rosie felt her heart swell with pride as Snow glowed, radiant in her joy beside Frederick.
The king raised his goblet. “To the health of Ladies Magdalene, Rose Red, and Snow White.” The dinner guests all raised their goblets and then drank. “And now the songs shall begin!” he said, looking around eagerly. “Who wishes to begin with our Song of Betrothal?”
“Your Majesty,” came the now-familiar bell-like voice. Rosie looked around with trepidation until she found Miss Marianne smiling sweetly at the king. “I was told by Lady Snow White that her sister has a lovely voice. Perhaps she ought to have the honors.”
Rosie felt the blood drain from her face.
“Of course!” cried the king, turning to smile at Rosie. “The sister of the bride ought to have the honor of singing for us!”
Rosie felt frozen in her seat, looking first at the king, and then at the entire court. In her panic, her eyes met Prince Jonathan’s. He was frowning, but he said nothing.
Her knees shook as she forced herself to her feet so she could curtsy to the king. As she did, the blood pumped through her body so hard that her vision threatened to tilt, and her mouth suddenly felt as though she’d been eating cotton.
“Your…” Her voice came out as a whisper. “Your Highness, I… I’m so very sorry. But I don’t… You see, we don’t have such a song in my–in our old village.” She swallowed and willed herself to stop stammering. “I’m afraid I shall have to learn.”
The silence was deafening, and she wished she could crawl beneath the tables as the room stared back at her. The queen looked disgusted, and Lady Sandra shook her head sadly.
“Ah,” the king said, his smile fading before he seemed to remember himself and nodded to her. “Of course. We wouldn’t expect you to know all of our traditions on your first day in the court.” He looked back at Miss Marianne and opened his mouth, but Prince Jonathan stood suddenly.
“I’ll sing it,” he said decidedly. “As the brother of the betrothed couple, such is my honor as well.”
He began to sing in a deep baritone, but Rosie couldn’t enjoy the beauty of the song. She was too lost in the sudden overwhelming desire to run out the castle’s front doors and all the way back to their little home.
Maybe she should just be her cousin’s nanny after all.
A headache blossomed soon after that, and she used it as an excuse to ask Prince Jonathan to take her back to her room as soon as she deemed it reasonable, once five or six more songs had been sung. Prince Jonathan nodded, but the crease didn’t leave his brow as he escorted her from the room.
They didn’t talk this time as they walked.
But when they reached her door, he said, “I understand that life was different in the village.” He met her eyes.
“But if you’re going to survive the court here, there are…
expectations. If you would like it, I should be happy to hire a tutor to teach you the court etiquette.
I highly recommend it,” he added in a severe tone.
Rosie, who had thought she couldn’t be any more mortified, stared at him now through stinging eyes.
“You must do what you think right, Your Highness,” she finally said in a stiff voice. Then, with one more stilted curtsy, she went inside, shut the door, and cried herself to sleep.