Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Unfortunately, it was but a moment that Rosie knew such peace. Two days later, that peace came crashing down when Madame Nadine sent a servant to summon Rosie to the kitchen before breakfast.
Rosie, yawning and barely awake, arrived at a scene of chaos.
Flour covered the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling.
Baskets of fruits, vegetables, potatoes, and corn had been dumped out onto the floor.
Honey dripped from the baking tables, and one of the fires, which Rosie had learned were always kept burning, had gone out.
Footprints–which were by no means human–ran all about the kitchen, preserved by the thick layer of flour that covered nearly the entire length of the room.
Countless servants rushed around to clean up the mess, but the moment Madame Nadine caught sight of Rosie standing in the doorway, she gestured impatiently for Rosie to join her. Carefully, Rosie made her way over, trying not to step on something that would make the mess worse.
“Read this!” the woman snapped, thrusting a piece of paper at Rosie.
My dear kitchen humans,
You can thank the brave little lady from the forest for bringing this disaster upon you. And kindly remind her that I’m not done getting my revenge. I’ve only just begun.
Rosie’s mouth fell open, and she looked up in dismay once more at the scene of disarray. “I can help clean,” she said softly, her face suddenly burning hot.
“You most definitely can,” Madame Nadine said, handing her a cleaning rag with such force it nearly slapped her in the face. “It’s only rather decent of you, considering you’re the cause of it!”
Rosie meekly nodded and knelt to the floor, grateful she hadn’t worn one of her better gowns that day.
In her haste upon receiving the baker’s summons, she’d thrown on her gown from the village, as it lacked the little buttons adorning her finer gowns that took forever to fasten.
And it was a good thing she had. In less than half an hour, she was sweaty, sticky, and covered in a fine layer of floury dust.
The sounds of musical laughs and voices sounded from the kitchen door, and Rosie looked up just in time to see a gaggle of the younger court ladies walk in, led by none other than Miss Marianne.
“Oh!” Miss Marianne said, throwing her hand over her mouth in what was obviously feigned shock. “I didn’t know you were in here!” She looked Rosie up and down, a little smile on her perfect little mouth. “Was court life too much for you? Did you just need a little taste of the forest filth?”
The other girls giggled even more before Madame Nadine pleasantly asked the girls what she could do for them.
“Well,” Miss Marianne looked around, “we were hungry and hoped we could find a tray of berries to bring back to my parlor. But if you’re too busy to spare one of your people…” She paused, and her eyes gleamed. “Maybe you could send Lady Rose.”
Rosie had never felt so humiliated in all her life. At least when she hadn’t known the song at the betrothal supper, she’d been sitting upright and hadn’t been covered in honey and flour. But this…
This was the worst she’d felt yet since coming to the castle.
The girls laughed again and left, and Rosie tried to keep her head down so none of the scullery maids working alongside her would see her tears.
A few minutes later, footsteps sounded at the entrance of the kitchen again, but this time, they were heavy, and there was only one set.
Prince Jonathan appeared in the doorway.
His blue eyes flashed, and his expression was dark.
When their eyes met, his fury only seemed to deepen.
Rosie dropped her face back down, unable to bear meeting his gaze. If only she could melt into the floor.
Why, if anyone had to see her like this, did it have to be him? She knew the court gossips didn’t like her. But to have the man she had come to respect see her so…
It was more than she could bear.
But before she could wonder why he was angry–and if he was angry at her–he surprised her by taking her wrist and gently pulling her to her feet.
“Come,” he said through gritted teeth as he led her back toward the entrance. “I’ll take you to your room to change. But first,” he paused just outside the kitchen, “please wait for me here.” Then he whirled around and shut the door in her face. A moment later, Rosie heard shouting.
Jonathan was shouting.
And then she heard low, convulsing sobs. Could those… Rosie blinked at the door. Could they be from Madame Nadine?
A moment later, the door was yanked open again.
“This way,” the prince said, his voice still curt and low. “I’ll take you to your room. You can get cleaned up there. Then we’ll go.”
Rosie did her best to swallow her own sobs. She was grateful, of course, to have been removed from the humiliating situation. But the prince still looked angry, and Rosie wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Was he angry that she had offered to help clean? Or that the troll had returned? Did he think this was all her fault?
“Where are we going?” she sniffed, her voice still warbling pitifully.
The prince, who had been walking stone-faced beside her, slowed, and when he glanced at her, his expression softened.
“We’re going for a ride.”