Princess of Athelia: An Unfinished Fairy Tales Novella (6 page)

“Long live His Highness! Long live Her Highness!”

I grab Edward’s arm. “These people . . . they are cheering for our arrival?”

“I should think it obvious. They certainly are not here for Bertram.”

“But there’s so many of them!”

“It is not what I enjoy,” he says with the air of a man resigned to the inevitable, “but I have no influence over what my cousin wishes to do.”

“Is this common—telling the people they have to line up and welcome us?”

“It is usual for tenants to defer to a lord in return for the food baskets and medicine sent to them in aid. From what I’ve heard, Constance is used to having the village women curtsy to her whenever she visits.”

I press my lips together. I know I should be used to the way royals are treated by now, but deep down inside, that modern part of me still squirms with discomfort. I haven’t done anything except catch the attention of the prince. And here are groups of people who never heard about me before, clapping and cheering as though I’ve saved the world.

Edward gets off the carriage first and offers his hand. I place my hand in his and step out, taking great care not to trip in front of so many people.

“Your Highness.” A young girl curtsies to me and holds out a cluster of baby-pink roses. “This is for you.”

I accept the roses with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Edward.” A deep, pleasant voice carries through the cool autumn air. A man with a well-trimmed beard limps toward us. He doesn’t use a walking stick or cane for support—I guess that’s why he has another man trailing behind, looking tense and apprehensive.

“My little cousin, all grown up, bringing his chosen bride along for a visit. How wonderful it is to finally meet the lovely girl who has stolen my cousin’s heart.” He extends a hand to me. I have been instructed on the etiquette of greeting male relatives, so I give the brightest smile I can muster and take his hand. “It is a great pleasure to meet you as well, Cousin Philip. Edward has spoken highly of you.”

He leans towards me and waggles his eyebrows, as though I’m a kid. “Don’t listen to him. Anything flattering he paints of me is untrue.”

Then he gestures to a woman dressed in a fine brocaded gown. She’s beautiful—flawless porcelain skin, doll-like features, and pale-blond hair expertly coiffed and perfumed. She is no young girl, but I can tell she has gone to great lengths to maintain her youth. “Allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Constance, Duchess of Northport.”

I am beginning to curtsy when I remind myself that I’m ranked higher than Constance. I quickly withdraw my hands from the thick folds of my gown and thread my fingers together at my stomach. I incline my head—gracefully, I hope—and smile.

“I am very happy to make your acquaintance, Constance.”

The woman returns a smile, gracious and polite, though she glances briefly at her husband. I’ve no idea what that glance conveys, but from the fleeting lift of eyebrows, it doesn’t seem to be flattering. Maybe she’s thinking that the prince’s fiancée really is as ordinary as the rumors say.

But once she opens her mouth, her voice flows over us like honey. “Absolutely delighted to meet you, my dear. Do come in.” Constance embraces me, and I catch the scent of bergamot oil. “Our party is not complete without you.”

I look back at the villagers, still lined up on both sides of the road. I can’t even see the little girl who gave me flowers. Of course, they aren’t invited to the party.

Edward lays a hand on my elbow, indicating we should go inside. Servants hold the doors open, take our coats, and usher us through a long, handsomely furnished hall. Having seen the palace’s splendor, I’m not particularly impressed with Philip’s house, but the number of servants flitting around us makes me a bit dizzy. They all look the same—men in dark shirts and pants, women in black dresses and white aprons. Philip and Constance probably don’t have to do anything all day except to lift a finger or bark a command.

At the end of the hall is another set of heavy doors. My stomach gets fluttery at the sight of the crowd of well-dressed people seated in an enormous living room. There’s Claire Fremont—breathtakingly lovely as usual—sitting with her mother, and several others with whom I was acquainted during the Season. I’ve met them while playing croquet at Claire’s, or they’re friends I have called on with Bianca. There’s even a girl that looks familiar—I recognize her as the one who shrieked and jumped when Krev let loose a mouse at the ball. And finally I spot Henry. He looks relieved when he sees us. Next to him, the duchess has an annoyed look on her face, which immediately vanishes when I meet her eye.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Philip says, barely concealing the excitement in his voice as though he is presenting an exotic animal in a zoo. “Our most honorable Highness and his bride have traveled all the way from the capital and come to join our company.”

There is a flurry of movement. Skirts rustle and people smooth their hair. The members of the aristocracy stand up and bow or curtsy.
I could get used to this
, then I mentally smack myself. I will be leaving eventually, and there is no reason to be happy about people paying their respects merely because I’m tied to a royal family.

Edward squeezes my hand. I have received guests in the palace before, but this is the first time I’ve had to deal with so many people. I swallow and try to arrange myself to look as calm and gracious as Constance. Even though I have been in large gatherings before, I am used to being ignored—keeping everyone’s ears safe from my piano playing and singing. Now, there is no escape as everyone’s attention is on the prince and me.

Philip and Constance lead us around the room, introducing us to Lord so-and-so, Lady so-and-so—names that I can barely remember. My mind is already jammed from learning Edward’s ancestors. I’m glad for Edward’s hand on my arm. His touch is warm and comforting, his presence a pillar of security.

Lady Fremont and Claire greet me with wide, sunny smiles. In the past, they kept their focus on my sister. They looked at me with disdain or not at all. I can’t help deriving a small vindictive pleasure at being the center of attention now.

Henry’s greeting is more warm and genuine, but I can feel his gaze darting behind me, as though I am concealing someone. When Edward engages the duchess’s attention by talking about some trivial detail of our engagement, I tell Henry: “Elle can’t join us here. I’m sorry—she has been super busy these days.”

He stiffens for a second, though his smile doesn’t waver. Henry may be more approachable compared to Edward, but growing up as one of Edward’s cousins, he also knows how to mask his emotions when necessary. “I had expected something like this. Is it about the school for girls that she plans to open?”

“She told you already?”

Henry darts a glance at his mother, then speaks in a low voice. “She has asked if I could convince a few instructors at the Royal Institute to teach a few courses at her school.”

“Wow.” I’m impressed at Elle’s efficiency and resourcefulness. “She really is set on opening that school.” I rub my elbows and feel a pang of guilt for declining her request that I voice support for girls’ education.

This time, Henry’s cheerfulness vanishes. There is a pained, almost forlorn look in his eyes. “She certainly is. She might seem gentle and soft-hearted, but she possesses a determined, single-minded resolution when faced with difficulties. It is an admirable quality, but sometimes I think she cares more for . . .”

“Henry,” the duchess lays a hand on her son’s arm, then glances at me. “I do apologize for interrupting, but there are some people we were going to speak to before you arrived. It would not do to keep them waiting.”

There is a challenging note in her tone and look. Henry opens his mouth for a second, but no sound comes out. With a triumphant grin, the duchess steers him away. I wish I could yank her hand off and tell her to stop interfering in her son’s love life, but what can I say when Henry allows himself to be trodden on?

“Let him alone, Kat,” Edward whispers in my ear. “If he is truly attached to Elle, he will not disappoint her.”

“He’d better,” I say fervently, though at the same time I also wonder what Henry had meant to tell me. Does he mean that he believes that Elle cares more for her charity efforts than for him?

A while later, I wish I could retire to a room. We have spent the whole day traveling. I long to throw off the heavy gown I’m wearing. If this socializing goes on, I will have to tape my eyelids to stop them from closing. Wait—this world doesn’t have plastic tape. Yet.

Edward seems to sense my weariness. “Cousin,” he says in a low voice. “My apologies, but we would request for a while to rest and change. It has been a long day.”

Philip doesn’t look too concerned. “Pshaw, it’s not even five o’clock! Surely our Princess Katriona is capable of greeting her subjects. It’s not that taxing compared to those balls that last until early morning. A cup of strong coffee will help restore her spirits.”

“At least stay a while longer to meet the children,” Constance quickly says, seeing that Edward is narrowing his eyes. “They have been longing to see their Uncle Ed. And, of course, to meet Katriona.”

She hails a servant, ordering that the children be brought to the sitting room. I look up at Edward and raise my eyebrows. “Uncle Ed?”

He remains impassive, but I think I detect a glimmer in his eyes. “Is that a problem?”

“It hardly suits you. An uncle should be hearty and jolly and present a fatherly image—not that broody, moody person I see.”

“No stranger than Aunt Kat.”

I make a face at him. This time he smiles; I feel like recording it as a victory. Uncle Ed and Aunt Kat—I have to admit the names sound good, even though it feels way too early to be thought of as an elder relative.

Presently, the servant returns with a boy and a girl. They march, almost like the children in The Sound of Music, their postures as stiff as bricks. But their eyes—large and expressive like their parents’—gaze at me with eagerness and curiosity.

“Darlings,” Constance says, taking them by the hand and pushing them forward. “Uncle Ed has finally decided to get married! Isn’t it exciting? And he’s brought his bride to see you.”

Edward loops an arm around my shoulder. “Say hello to Aunt Kat.”

Constance gestures to the boy, who looks about twelve or thirteen. “This is Thomas, my second oldest.” He touches a hand to his forelock and nods at me like a well-trained soldier. “And this is Liana Rose, but we all call her Rosie.” The girl doesn’t look older than ten. She’s a small, dainty thing who reminds me of that glass shepherdess on the mantelpiece when I still lived at Lady Bradshaw’s house. No wonder she’s called Rosie.

I wink at her, and she gives a tiny smile, which she quickly covers up with a delicate white hand. I feel as though I’ve met someone I can be totally comfortable with.

“By the way, where is Tristan?” Edward says. It’s then that I recall he told me that Philip and Constance have three children.

“He’s still away at boarding school—they have a huge rowing competition this week.” Constance shakes her head. “The older he is, the less he listens to his old mother.”

Just then, a servant rushes up to Philip. “Lady Lillie has just arrived.”

A girl attired in a pristine white dress enters the room. She has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen, which curve into crescent moons when she smiles. Although her dress is simple, and she doesn’t have any ornaments apart from a string of pearls, her exquisite face definitely draws the attention of all men in the room.

“Oh, do forgive me for arriving late,” she says breathlessly, coming toward us. “Our carriage broke down on the road, and it took such a long time for our coachman to ride to the nearest village for help.”

“What an unfortunate incident!” Philip says. “Is anyone injured? I’ll call our doctor.”

“Father has a scratch on his leg, but it’s nothing to cause great worry over.” She sees me; for a second her eyes narrow, but then she breaks into a radiant smile and holds out her hand. “My name is Lillie; I am Constance’s sister. Are you the famous Lady Katriona who has captured Edward’s heart?” She says Edward’s name in a casual tone that hints they are well acquainted.

“Pleased to meet you,” I say. “I’m Kat—I mean, you can call me Kat.”

“Lillie will be coming out next year.” There’s a note of pride in Constance’s tone. “If her mother cannot make the journey, I will be accompanying her to court.”

Lillie’s smile wavers for a second. She darts a glance at Edward. “If Mama wasn’t so determined to perfect my wardrobe, I could have had my season this year.”

There’s no doubt that she deeply regrets the delay. What difference does not debuting this year make? A seed of suspicion starts to form in my mind.

Lillie turns to Edward. “Guess what? I’ve brought you several tulip bulbs from Enrilth. If we try cultivating them in the palace now, they’ll be a treat for next year’s flower show.”

I blink. I didn’t expect her to be into gardening.

“I appreciate the gesture,” Edward says. “But I’d rather leave the credit to you.”

“Edward, I bought them especially for you.” Lillie’s tone is plaintive—a bit whiny even. “I trust your skills will do them better justice than mine. You’ve never refused me before.”

“Lillie,” Constance says in a low, urgent voice, giving me a lightning glance.

It’s official: she’s the 999th girl to have a crush on Edward.

10

The journey was so tiring that I slept until midmorning the next day, so Constance had Amelie bring me a late breakfast tray instead. Then she took me on a tour of the house, which lasted so long that we were late for lunch. I counted two grand halls, three dining rooms, four parlors, and a dozen sitting rooms. There’s a healer’s room for the family doctor, as Constance boasts that they don’t need to ride to the nearest town for medical-related emergencies. They even have special rooms including a lamp room, a china room, and a muniment room where they keep parochial records, charters, deeds, and other important documents. Bedrooms are too many to count, and there’s even a “bachelor’s row” to separate the single guests from the married. The steward and butler and housekeeper get their own rooms, while the rest of the servants share a servants’ hall that reminds me of a hostel or dormitory. Even though the duke’s house lacks a throne room and palace guards and other stuff that comes with the royal package, it is pretty overwhelming. Constance seems pleased whenever my jaw drops or I let out a gasp.