Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Despite the troll’s repeated upset of the kitchens, Rosie awoke with a feeling of satisfaction.
She had succeeded in baking all the cake layers the night before.
Tonight, she would need to put them together and frost them, and her contribution toward her sister’s wedding would be complete.
And to be on the safe side, the servants had even arranged to hide the cake in one of the cooling cellars in case the troll returned before Rosie was ready to finish it.
That feeling of satisfaction, however, was tainted by the knowledge that Jonathan was now pledged to another.
She had slept past breakfast due to her late-night baking, so she didn’t emerge from her room until it was time for the noonday meal.
And, as he had been missing the day before, Jonathan failed to appear again.
Neither did she see him in the halls in passing, nor at any of the places she was used to finding him.
But maybe it was better that way.
Still, despite her determination to stay with Snow as much as she was allowed, helping and laughing and being present, she felt his absence weigh on her more heavily than any duty had before. It was a strange feeling–one she had never felt for another person. Almost as if…
Was she in love?
Rosie quickly shied away from answering that question and instead did her best to focus on the flowers her sister was asking her to choose between.
And she made sure they were never completely alone so Snow couldn’t ask prying questions.
There was no reason to ruin her sister’s big day with news that Rosie knew would break her sister’s heart.
She became even more aware of the hole Jonathan had left when she arrived at the supper table that night.
There were few courtiers in attendance. The king and queen were eating in their private rooms, she learned, as were Snow and Frederick.
And, apparently, Jonathan as well. Which meant the conversation that happened not far from where Rosie was eating was much easier to attend to–even if Rosie had no desire to listen in.
“He’s so tall!” one of them was giggling. “He’ll have to bend low to kiss you!”
“I’m taller than you are,” came Marianne’s voice, sounding none-too-pleased with this observation. But then she paused, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded smug. “But we shall have tall children, and I quite like that.”
“He does work quite a lot,” said another friend. “How will you ever get him out of the study?”
“I don’t think I will,” Marianne said thoughtfully. “I’ll take the children, and we’ll stay with my parents much of the time. If he wishes to visit us, he may.”
“The queen seems to have given a good many duties to Lady Snow,” one of the girls said in a lowered voice. “What will you do if she gives you even more? You will be the queen one day, after all.”
“You seem to forget,” Marianne said in an equally low voice, “that I shall have a very capable husband who desires to do what is best for the kingdom.” She sighed dramatically. “I’m afraid I shall need a great deal of help from him when my tasks become too many.”
Rosie dropped her spoon. It clattered against her bowl, and the whole room turned to look at her.
Rosie glanced up and uttered an almost inaudible apology.
She meant to look straight down, but her eyes somehow managed to meet Marianne’s.
And after a moment of holding her gaze, Marianne gave her one small but undeniable smile. That smile said it all.
Jonathan would spend the rest of his life beside this woman. A woman who saw little to no value in his hard work. His quiet strength. His steadiness of character. His small acts of kindness when he thought no one was watching.
And if she was honest, it broke Rosie’s heart.
Because while she couldn’t quite bring herself to admit that she loved him–doing so would be unspeakably foolish, seeing as he was pledged to another–she was self-aware enough to know that had she been given the chance to choose a man to walk beside for the rest of her life…
He was exactly the man she would have wanted.
Or would have been, had he been a farmer or scholar or someone who practiced law. But in spite of her new title, Rosie was really just another country girl.
And he had accepted his fate, she reminded herself as she rose from her seat, no longer hungry.
She didn’t hold it against him. He had little choice in the matter.
But it hurt all the same knowing that Marianne would be the one standing beside him when his position was threatened by enemy or betrayal.
She would have access to the kingdom’s resources as her own.
She would bear him children, and from what Rosie had overheard, would most likely do as little as possible to better the kingdom with the power that was given to her.
Instead, she would heap even more work on her husband, who was already groaning beneath the weight of it.
And she would probably train his heir to do the same.
But then again, this alliance would benefit the kingdom. Or at least, the king believed it would. And benefiting the kingdom was, after all, Jonathan’s first responsibility.
That night, Rosie returned to the kitchens to find her cake carefully returned to the freshly cleaned work tables. It had survived the day, and all she needed to do was mix up the frosting and decorate the cake.
She was so close.
Rosie prepared her ingredients slowly, methodically, enjoying the silence and basking in the solitude. The palace itself was a beautiful place full of countless resources and opportunities. When the courtiers within weren’t being awful, she was delighted to find her way around.
In truth, she admitted bitterly to herself, she didn’t want to leave the palace. But as the wedding would take place the next day, she needed to sleep before dawn. So with a sigh, she began mixing ingredients. It would be her last time in these kitchens. She had to make the most of it.
A few hours later, her solitude was interrupted, but the visitor was a welcome one. Frederick walked in with rumpled hair, wearing a loose shirt and trousers.
“Not able to sleep?” she asked as she placed a cherry on the second tier.
“No, but not for the reasons you might think,” he said with a wry grin.
“Would you like a taste?” She indicated the extra cake she had baked in case one of the main layers didn’t turn out.
He pulled up a stool on the other side of her work table. “I would never turn down your baking.”
Rosie would have accused him of flattering her, but he had shared meals at their tables for nearly five years, and she was quite aware of his affinity for sweets.
Even as a bear, he had eaten every treat she had ever made.
So with a smile, she found a little dish and served him a piece of the cake, wiping a dollop of frosting on it and topping it off with a cherry.
“Were the sweets worth the countless cold nights you spent sleeping at our front door when the wolves were out?” she asked as she passed him the plate.
“They were more than worth it,” he said seriously. “Your family made me feel somewhat human again. I had begun to think I might go mad by the time I found you.”
“Well,” she said, returning to her decorating. “I’m glad you didn’t go mad. We enjoyed your company immensely, and we all felt much safer when you were there, sleeping between us and the wind and the wolves howling outside.”
She expected him to take a bite, but instead, he studied her, tilting his head thoughtfully the way he had done when he was a bear.
“How are you doing?” he asked softly. And she knew by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t asking about her baking.
“Snow doesn’t know it yet,” she said, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “I haven’t had a chance to tell her. But… I’m leaving after the wedding.”
“My brother didn’t accept my parents’ betrothal choice out of duty,” he blurted.
Rosie turned to stare at him.
“He fought the match with Miss Marianne when they proposed it,” Frederick continued in a rush. “But my mother…” His shoulders slumped, and he stared miserably at the cake in front of him. “He fought her until she threatened to send you away in disgrace.”
Rosie continued to stare at him as her mind whirled in circles. She had been the reason Jonathan had capitulated? His mother had used her to force him into marrying that… that troll?
“I fell in love with Snow nearly the moment I laid eyes on her,” Frederick said with a sad smile.
“But to me, you’re already the sister I never had.
You have been since your family took me in.
” He laughed a little. “I know I used to growl at you for it, but you had every right to scold me for making messes and acting like a brat. I was a brat, but you…”
He swallowed hard, and his eyes grew hard. “It’s not fair. You saved me every bit as much as Snow did, but you’re being punished for it. And I…” He shoved away from the table and stood suddenly, taking the little plate with him, his expression darker than she had ever seen it.
“I just wish I could do something about it,” he grumbled, almost sounding like his bear self again as he stomped out, leaving her alone once more.
Rosie didn’t know what to do after that, so she returned to decorating because it was all she could think to do.
Her mind felt numb as she tried to digest all that he had just told her.
And yet, there was a little part of her that felt better.
Frederick’s anger, even if it accomplished nothing, made her feel a little less alone.
When she was finished, she cleaned up the kitchen before looking around once more. It was near midnight, and the rest of the palace ought to be asleep. But she couldn’t help looking wistfully out at the little balcony where Jonathan liked to study and work.
“There’s no use in crying over what I can’t have,” she told herself out loud as she began to lift the cake–which was quite heavy by now–to take it down to the cooling cellar.
But then she put the cake back down. Quickly, she placed another piece of the extra cake in a little dish, just as she had done for Frederick, and dropped a spoonful of icing and a cherry on top of it as well.
Then she went out onto the balcony and left the little dish on the wide balcony wall.
As she lifted the cake and carried it down to the cellar, she indulged in what she knew she should not–she immersed herself in the what-ifs.
What if Jonathan hadn’t been a prince? Who would he have been instead?
He certainly wouldn’t have been too common.
His mind was too sharp not to have been drawn to some sort of practice or respectable trade.
She imagined him practicing law. Perhaps one day he would have risen to the rank of judge.
They would have had a house at the edge of the city.
Nothing too deep in the winding, dirty streets she had seen while visiting the seamstress.
A cottage. Yes, they would have had a little cottage at the edge of town.
He could have walked or ridden a horse to work, and she would have made the house beautiful.
They would have had a thriving garden, and eventually, climbing roses would have adorned their walls.
She could almost see children playing in the yard as she picked herbs.
Jonathan, she was sure, would have been a hard worker in whatever trade he engaged in. And while she would probably have had nothing as fine as what she wore now, their family would have been clean and warmly dressed in clothes that she could easily mend on her own. They wouldn’t have been rich.
But they would have been happy.
There was also, of course, the what-if of the life that was a little closer to what she was living now. What if the king and queen had taken a liking to her, and he had chosen her as his bride instead?
To begin with, she would have eagerly assisted in keeping the kingdom’s ledgers.
Perhaps she could even have helped build schools for children in the little villages where scholars rarely ventured.
She wouldn’t have let Jonathan run himself ragged with work, but instead, would have insisted he retire on certain nights so they and their children might play or go for rides through the fields.
Of course, Rosie knew she was punishing herself severely with such nonsense. But Jonathan had done it. And now so had she. She wouldn’t do it again after this. After all, it wasn’t proper to dream of another woman’s husband, and Rosie had no doubt that his wedding would soon follow this one.
But the dreams had been had. And they were hers. For one night, they had been hers.
She returned to the kitchen one last time before going to bed to make sure that the kitchen was clean.
Before she left, however, she glanced once more over at the balcony where she had left the little dish of cake.
And though she was certain she would need to find it and put it away, the cake was gone.