3
T he next morning I woke an hour earlier than usual.
I knew Bennett got up around the same time, and I hoped to catch him thirty minutes before breakfast to suggest a stroll in the gardens. I wouldn’t have a quiet moment with him otherwise, since the breakfast table would be infested with ambassadors and Ulysses apparently had a full schedule of activities for the day.
As I tended to my toilette, I winced at the sight of myself in the vanity mirror. There were dark circles beneath my eyes and pink patches of skin on my forehead and nose—sunburns from stepping outside for too long yesterday. I recalled how Bennett drew away from my kiss. I hurriedly dabbed powder over my face. Some vanity must be excused.
After retrieving Bennett’s notes from my bedside table, I headed out and met him just as he was walking into the throne room.
“Good morning,” I said, pulling on a smile. I hoped it looked more cheery than forced. Normally I would’ve greeted him with an embrace, but I held myself back.
“Good morning, Cissa,” Bennett said. His hair was perfectly swept back, his lapels were straight, and his cravat was a soft lilac satin knotted in the latest fashion. I didn’t know how he managed to look well-rested despite the hours he kept. Perhaps because the sun agreed with his skin more than mine, giving it a tanned, golden appearance.
As I was ogling him, an ambassador walked past. He had white streaks in his black hair and should have been recognizable, but no name came to mind.
“Good morning, Lord Payne,” Bennett said pleasantly. It was as if all his awkwardness from last winter had dissolved. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay.”
Lord Payne, whose name I should’ve known, beamed. “Of course I am, Your Highness. The grounds are delightful—and so are my hosts!”
“You’re too kind, sir,” Bennett said.
The ambassador turned his attention to me. “Lady Narcissa, you look well!”
I blinked rapidly, not expecting to be addressed. “Thank you.”
I should have said something else, but I couldn’t think of anything beyond more greetings and inquiries about his stay—or heaven forbid—Olderean seagulls.
Lord Payne smiled through the short silence.
“I shall see you both at breakfast,” the ambassador said cheerily. He bowed, and continued down the hall.
Bennett turned his attention back to me.
I blushed. “Um. Your notes from yesterday,” I said finally, handing him his notes.
“Thank you.” Bennett reached for them, his eyes falling to the mottled ink at the corner of the paper. “I hope you found it useful.”
“I was thinking,” I said quickly, “we take a stroll today before breakfast.” The large window on our left opened up to Queen Cordelia’s garden. The hydrangeas were in full bloom, dotting the landscape with soft puffs of lilac, periwinkle, and pink. The weather was impeccable too, the sun halfway behind clouds.
Bennett nodded, and my heart began to lighten until he said, “Perhaps after breakfast, when the ambassadors have eaten. Ulysses scheduled a tour of the gardens at tea time, but it could be moved sooner if you prefer.”
“I...was thinking it could just be you and me.”
Bennett blinked. “Apologies, Cissa, but Father needs me right now. Maybe another time. You should join the ambassadors for breakfast. I hear they’re serving strawberries.”
I curled my hands into fists. “Actually...I’m tired. I’ll take breakfast in my room.”
Bennett nodded slowly. I couldn’t meet his eyes, afraid I would see disappointment in them. After all, I was supposed to shadow him and be part of the diplomacy efforts. But here I was, leaving it all to him.
The rustle of paper sounded as Bennett tucked his notes into his coat pocket. He waited a beat before he asked, “Are you feeling alright, Cissa?”
I smiled. “Yes.”
SOBBING INTO MY OVERSTUFFED pillows was not how I envisioned the day starting, yet there I was, making unsightly wet stains on the linen pillowcases.
Sister Scarlett was right that Bennett was a formidable leader. He was patient and diligent and never seemed to tire. And even though he had struggled to command his voice last winter, he had grown to be as charismatic as any ruler, while I seemed to have lost my charisma altogether
It was like he was the one with magic, not I.
When I had cried to my heart’s content, I managed to eat the breakfast my maid brought in. The strawberries were plump and sweet, but I couldn’t find it in me to enjoy them. I had barely finished when Ulysses knocked on my door.
“The guest list has some last-minute changes, milady. Extra plus-ones for the Ambassadors Ball,” the royal steward said. “If you could update the seating chart, that would be lovely. And perhaps you can join us in the gardens after?”
“Perhaps,” I said weakly.
Ulysses didn’t comment on my appearance, though I was sure my eyes were puffier than before. I took the guest list dutifully and set to work rearranging the seating chart, keeping in mind the ranks of the new guests. The work was simple enough, as I had planned banquets of similar scale before under Mother’s instruction at Whittington Manor.
I drew a rectangle in the empty space where the official banquet table ended. An extra table would have to be added to accommodate the additional guests. I scribbled a note to the head gardener requesting more flowers for another centerpiece.
Since the hydrangeas were abundant in Queen Cordelia’s garden, I had instructed the banquet hall and ballroom to be decorated with them. The flowers symbolized unity and togetherness—an apt theme for an evening celebrating peace.
I was glad to distract myself with work. But when I headed to the kitchens to inquire about the length of the extra banquet table and the amount of silverware available, I passed the gardens where Bennett and the ambassadors were wandering. He was deep in conversation with one of them, no doubt taking mental notes of minute details that could prove to be important to the kingdom.
All I had done was pick which flower to decorate with.
Bennett’s gaze met mine. He smiled and waved to me, but I hurried down the hall, not wanting him to see me in a less than flattering state.
After finishing the seating chart and handing it off to Ulysses, I headed to Giselle’s room. But upon arriving, a servant informed me that the seamstress had left for the witch market thirty minutes ago.
Disappointed, I returned to my suite and lay in bed. I had missed nearly half the day’s activities by then. I didn’t have the energy to join the ambassadors, and I doubted showing up would make a difference. Bennett was handling everything perfectly.
Before I knew it, dusk fell.
I looked out the balcony. I had kept its doors open, hoping fresh air and sunlight would lighten my mood. It hadn’t. My dinner tray sat untouched on the little table in the center of the room.
A knock came at my bedchamber door. “Crown Prince Bennett and Lady Marianna wish to inquire after your health, milady,” my maid called from the other side.
I lifted my head from the pillows. “Tell them I’m not fit for visitors at the moment,” I said. I had already changed into my nightgown. Having a day to myself should have been restful, but I was more tired than I had been that morning.
“Very well, milady.”
I slipped out of bed and wandered to the wall that separated my room from the hallway. It was bad of me to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help myself.
Bennett’s voice drifted from the hall.
“Is she ill?” he asked.
“Her Ladyship is not feeling well,” my maid said.
Lady Marianna tutted. “Now that can’t be. She looked perfectly hale last night. Bennett, did you upset her?”
“I don’t believe so,” Bennett said incredulously.
Lady Marianna tutted again. “Well, a young woman needs her beauty rest anyhow.”
“I hope she is well by tomorrow. The Ambassadors Ball—”
“She will be fine, Bennett. Now come! Let us join your father and the ambassadors for tea.”
They departed, their footsteps growing fainter until they disappeared entirely.
I headed back into bed and wrapped my arms around a pillow. It was too early to sleep, but an exhaustion of another sort hung over me. I squeezed the pillow tightly.
“I miss you so much, Misty,” I whispered.