Chapter 20 – Raelyn
Chapter Twenty
RAELYN
An entire week passes with neither sight nor sound of the prince.
Perhaps he truly is going to marry the princess like the rumors say.
It’s better this way, I try to rationalize as I carry out yet another chore.
With no word of when Father will return, my betrothal didn’t stand a chance of happening anyway.
Chessa wasted no time and commandeered my room the very day I left it. Consider me shocked. At least it wasn’t Erika, but her betrayal will always hurt the most. Sometimes I question if she ever liked me at all, or if our pleasant memories are nothing but lies.
I’m also starting to wonder if Stepmother has heard the rumors about me not belonging . . . but that makes no sense to me. Surely Father wouldn’t accept and love me the way he does if he wasn’t actually my father.
Since it’s looking like the prince’s plan is not going to come to fruition, I’ve started dreaming of escape. Perhaps I am delusional, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my days waiting on my family and being treated worse than our paid servants.
Only, if I did leave, I’d have nowhere to go and no way to provide for myself unless I stole from my family.
My only other hope remains in Father’s return.
I have to believe he will not be okay with the way Stepmother has been treating me.
Perhaps when he returns, he will set things right, or I can beg him to send me to live with our distant relatives in Sillamae.
All I know is that something has to change. It’s as if I’m withering away on the inside. I’m becoming no one. No longer allowed to do anything that brings me joy, but forced to work so hard from sunup to sundown that all I have energy for is collapsing into bed every evening.
The rest of the servants have stopped calling me “my lady” these past five weeks, and I’m just Raelyn now. That part doesn’t even bother me; I actually prefer it—if I can’t belong with my family, I want to belong somewhere.
I’m carrying a basket of sheets when a commotion from the front of the manor pulls my attention. What in the realms could that be?
Stepmother’s shrill voice echoes down the halls, but it’s unclear to me what she’s saying.
Were we expecting guests today? I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary on my list of tasks.
Usually, if Stepmother is entertaining, she makes me clean the parlor twice for good measure.
As if the dust could multiply in an hour.
I snort in annoyance just thinking about it.
A velvety baritone voice drifts down the hall, and I freeze.
I know that voice. Has the prince finally deigned to show up?
I’m simultaneously angry and excited—perhaps a little bit scared.
Stepmother does not sound pleased at his appearance, which is absurd when I really think about it.
A prince is in our home, and she dares to speak to him like that?
I shuffle as silently as possible toward them, hoping to overhear some of their conversation.
“This simply isn’t the time for a visit, Your Highness,” Stepmother says, sounding miffed.
The prince’s unworried, smooth drawl sends a shiver down my spine. “I apologize for the lack of notice, my lady, but there simply wasn’t time to send word.”
I bite back a laugh at how he throws her words back in her face.
“Lady Raelyn is not available for callers at this time,” Stepmother replies.
The bitterness coating her tone makes my stomach ache.
The prince is finally here, but she won’t even allow him to see me?
I debate the merits of “accidentally” waltzing into the foyer.
She would be furious, and I hate to think of how she’d take it out on me.
Does she realize the prince recognized me the last time he was here?
Does she know he’s aware of my current status as maid in the household?
If I were to come out and embarrass her, there’s no telling what she’d do to me.
“Is she ill?” the prince asks.
“Nothing like that, Your Highness,” Stepmother replies.
Idiot. He might have actually bought that lie if she’d been smart enough to play along.
“Lady Erika is available if you’d like to call on her,” Stepmother continues.
When the prince doesn’t reply right away, my heart drops. Would he give up so easily? What should I do? He’s perhaps my best chance of escaping this hellscape.
“I really must insist on seeing Lady Raelyn,” the prince says firmly. “Considering she herself told me she never leaves the manor unless she’s deathly ill, I don’t understand why she isn’t available.”
Darling Stepmother is going to find a way to punish me. I just know it. Should I just make myself known now?
If I’m going to be punished anyway, might as well go all in.
I take one step when Stepmother says, “You are quite forward, Your Highness. I suppose I can check on her and see if she is willing to take a caller. Don’t get your hopes up.”
I sag against the wall. She’s just going to make more excuses for me.
“I’m happy to wait as long as it takes,” he replies smoothly.
Gods, I could almost kiss him. Thank Kyros and Luna he is willing to stand up to that witch.
Footsteps come toward me, and I quickly run in the opposite direction. Shit. If Stepmother catches me eavesdropping, it will only be worse for me.
I turn the corner just in time and toss the sheets into the never-ending pile of laundry.
“Raelyn!” Stepmother snaps.
I spin and look at her, hoping I don’t come across suspiciously. “Yes, Stepmother?”
“A certain prince is here looking for you. Would you happen to know anything about that?”
“Um . . . well, we met formally at the ball last month and he seemed to take a liking to me,” I reply, hoping no one saw us together last week.
“He is quite insistent about seeing you, but clearly, you’re in no condition to see him.” She looks me up and down judgmentally, as if she isn’t fully responsible for my current state. It takes everything in me to bite my tongue and keep from retorting back.
“I can go change and send him away?” I offer hesitantly.
Stepmother taps her toe as she holds a perfectly manicured finger to her lips.
“You must be delicate about it. I can’t have you offending the prince now, can I?
If he’s not going to marry Princess Helene, I fully intend for him to match with one of your sisters, and I won’t have you stand in my way. ”
“Yes, Stepmother,” I say quietly. Why she won’t let me have this, perhaps I’ll never understand, but just maybe . . . “I can encourage him to call on Erika or Chessa, if that’s what you prefer.”
“Of course I prefer it, you insolent brat. You can’t possibly think you deserve a prince, can you?”
I try not to flinch at her tone, at the words that cut even though I don’t want them to.
“You are far past your prime, Raelyn. You had your chance to find a husband, and now it’s too late.
You are nothing but proof of your mother’s disgrace.
” Stepmother stands before me, wagging an accusing finger, and I shrink in on myself.
“You don’t even deserve to have the name Astoria.
Your father is a fool to allow you to remain here.
If it were up to me, I’d have exposed you long ago.
But I am a gracious woman and allow you to serve in this household.
If you do not, you will be cast out. Do I make myself clear? ”
Each word is a blow. Does she have proof? The way she can say that without a shadow of doubt makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry.
Unbidden tears prick my eyes as I stare up at her, recognizing the triumph in hers. After weeks of trying, she finally found the words to break me.
“How can you say such hateful things?” I blurt out.
All of her beauty fades as the scorn on her face takes over. “I know your secret, Raelyn. You are not your father’s daughter.”
“Th-that’s not possible,” I stutter. “Father would have surely said something to me if that were true.”
“He is all the more a fool for not telling you then. Don’t you think it odd that you’re the only sibling who needs a special tonic to keep your illness at bay?”
I close my eyes, as if it will keep her words from being true.
“I found the doctor’s notes. You don’t have an ounce of Astoria blood, and if you do not convince the prince to choose a worthier sister to call on, I will expose you for the disgrace that you are.”
A pit of despair threatens to overwhelm me. Any joy at seeing Kian today is overshadowed by this new knowledge Stepmother has thrown at me. Is she telling the truth? Perhaps she’s just saying this to hurt me.
But deep down, her words ring of truth. I have always felt different. My illness is unique to me, as she said. Perhaps it really is Father who has been lying to me all these years.
I hang my head. The prince won’t want to marry a bastard.
That much is obvious. I suppose it’s time to end things.
Stepmother knowing this truth means she can hold it over my father and prevent him from doing anything to change my situation.
He wouldn’t want that shame to get out to court.
All hopes of my father’s intervention crash and burn like a star falling from the sky.
“Now hurry and make yourself presentable,” Stepmother commands. “Best to get this over with.”
I nod and make my escape to my room, tears flooding my eyes. Through blurred vision, I rifle through my limited options and pull out the least offensive dress.
The room-temperature water in my small basin doesn’t do much to clear the puffiness of my eyes, but it’s the best I can do.
I pin up my hair and pinch my cheeks—I look like a mess, but it’s not like I’m supposed to impress the prince.
I’m supposed to push him toward one of my sisters . . . or half-sisters, I guess.
Rolling my shoulders back, I take a deep breath. I can do this. I can face the prince and turn him away, and then I’ll plan my escape. I owe this family nothing.