Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Of course.”
“When you go back down and stand before the queen again, you are to be calm and collected. No dramatics whatsoever, do you understand me?”
I nodded. “Yes, Mama.”
Only then did she take a deep breath, nodding to herself. She reached up and brushed the wet strands of my curls off my face. “You worry me greatly sometimes, child.”
“I am twenty, you need not worry so.”
“If you were one hundred and twenty, I would worry even still.”
I wanted to ask how old that would make her but feared what she’d do to me, so I just smiled. “Go, Mama. I shall be down shortly. We cannot leave Papa to handle all the guests and the queen alone. He’s probably ready to run to his library as we speak. And who knows what the other mamas are saying?”
She chuckled and nodded. “Very well. Wear the green dress, with my pearls. You will look most stunning.”
“Thank you, Mama,” I said as she moved toward the door. She paused, looking at Wilhelm’s coat and bag, left on my bed.
“Someone must have these returned to Prince Wilhelm’s rooms immediately,” she added. I did not trust any other person to return it without looking inside. Luckily, it was then that Bernice entered, her hair soaked, but her clothes changed.
“Bernice, how have you returned so soon?” I said, moving from the fireplace and toward the bed to gather the prince’s things, making sure to wrap his coat over the bag. “Please drop this with Prince Wilhelm, and then go rest.”
I gave her a pleading look and she nodded.
“Yes, my lady,” she said, taking them from me and leaving quickly.
My mother gave me a strange look but was luckily distracted as Abena stormed into my room.
“Is the queen really here?”
“Yes, which means should I hear even the slightest bit of noise out of you, I will send you to the moon,” Mama said, pulling her cheeks before leaving. “Do not disturb your sister. Come on.”
“This is the worst week ever. I cannot do anything!” She huffed and turned back around to leave with her.
With both Mama and the sketchbook gone, I threw myself onto the bed and took a deep breath. I did not blame Abena. This truly was an unforgiving week, and I felt powerless to do anything about it.
But I was sure I did not like him.
“My lady, we must get you prepared at once, we cannot keep the queen waiting.”
“Coming.”
Dear God, please…help me any way possible. I am at a loss for what is happening.
Wilhelm
“Well?” the queen asked as she watched the gathered guests dance from her chair, me standing newly changed beside her.
“Well what, Aunt?”
“Spare your feigned ignorance for someone who is ignorant, Wilhelm, and tell me directly. What do you think of her?” Straight and sharp, of course, for that was her personality to the letter. My mother called her the unwavering arrow. “And before you waste my time and foolishly ask me who, I mean Lady Hathor.”
“I am sorry to disappoint you, Aunt, but I do not think anything of her.”
“Is that why you gave her your coat and personally escorted her through the rain on horseback?”
“I would hardly be deemed a gentleman if I allowed our host’s daughter to walk back in a storm, now would I?”
“Oh, is that your excuse? Strange, for I’ve seen you leave ladies nearly drowning in ponds to assure no connection could be made between you.”
Before I could reply, the doors opened and she entered: Lady Hathor, as though she were a princess draped in green silk, the trim laced with glistening fabric. Her sweet face shimmered under the light. She walked slowly and gracefully, pearls around her neck and a few in her curly brown hair. All of which was pinned up, with the exception of one long curl over her shoulder. Not one person, gentleman or lady, was able to look away from her…except for the queen, whose eyes seemed to be on me.
“That is not at all the look of a man who has not thought of a lady,” she said. I could not reply, as Lady Hathor made her way to us.
Hathor curtsied low before us…and I was quite stunned at how refined all her movements were. It was so unlike the woman I was used to. That woman was ready to curse and throw acorns at me without a single thought to my position or hers. The lady I was used to was a fierce, thundering force of confrontational energy. This woman before us…looked to be the very definition of a polished young lady of high society.
“Lady Hathor, you are dry and here at last.”
“Forgive me for coming before you so uncouthly earlier, Your Majesty. I pray you are in good health and that your journey was fine.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and I realized that this gentle lady before me was the formation of all her practice.