*Maddy*
I can’t understand a word these people are saying. I sit in on a bench in a large kitchen, a cup of hot tea with milk and honey in my trembling hands.
King Isaac is arguing with the copper haired man, a shade a few lighter than my own. I recognize him from the day Reginald dragged me here. They must be roughly the same age. The man looks over at me quizzically before turning back to Isaac and continuing the animated conversation.
I wish they’d slow down so I could have a moment to pick through their words for anything that sounds remotely familiar. Anything I learned from Reginald’s sadistic tutor has been replaced by nothing but the feeling of my knuckles being swatted over, and over again.
I’m dead. The second they lead me out of this castle, I’m dead.
Two women walk into the room, and I immediately hang my head so my hair falls forward to shield my face.
One of them looks a lot like Isaac. Her hair is much darker, a deep brown that’s nearly black. I can’t see the other woman, but they talk swiftly, their voices lifted and unsure. I carefully look at them through my lashes and notice how similar the dark haired woman and King Isaac look. Their eyes are the same shape, the expressions follow the same patterns. Brother and sister.
That’s Princess Ella.
She’s beautiful, even dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair is pulled back form her face in a ponytail that sweeps across her lower back.
I feel uneasy in the fancy gown I’m wearing when everyone here is dressed so casually. Clothes are a sign of wealth in my village.
But here, I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb.
I can’t escape now, not now that I’m inside the Alpha King’s castle. He’s already yelled at the guards, likely telling them to stand watch at every exit to make sure I can’t escape.
And now I have no way to tell him, or anyone, that I can’t go back. That I need to stay. That he needs to choose me, or I’ll face a fate worse than death.
I’d rather stay here as a maid or another type of servant than go back with Reginald. Or home.
I can’t go there either.
I swallow hard, my throat tight. I should drink the tea, but I can’t get anything past the lump in my throat. At least it’s warm in my trembling hands, and I need the heat.
I barely notice the second woman approaching me cautiously, like I’m some feral animal. She has beautiful strawberry blonde hair that falls to her shoulders in thick, bouncy ringlets. She looks different compared to the rest of the group. She’s dressed in a light blue top and matching pants, a uniform of sorts. Her white sneakers squeal on the tiles as she comes to a stop in front me and crouches down, a kind smile on her round face.
I can’t understand what she’s saying. I try, but I’ve only been able to catch a few words of the conversation. Even my attempts to focus on the bickering taking place between King Isaac and his companions proves useless. I only pick up three words.
Uncle. Celestoria. Luna.
“I think her name is Jenny,” King Isaac says, but his words blur in my mind. “She said something like Jenny Sepaw outside.”
“Jenny?” the woman in front of me says, tilting her head to the side.
I shrug as I try to remember anything from my lessons, but my mind is blank. I can’t even tell them my name.
“Comment allez-vous?” the woman says. “How are you?” I meet her eyes in shock. I can understand her. She’s speaking my language!
“Peux-tu me comprende?” “Can you understand me?”
I blink, then slowly nod.
“Ne parle pas couramment.” “Not fluent,” she says with a shrug. “Comment t’appeles tu?” “What is your name?”
“Mad–je veux dire, Genevieve.” The fake name tastes like acid on my tongue, but this moment could mean life and death. Continuing in my language, I go with the lie. “My uncle told me I had an interview with the King today.”
Still speaking my language, she says, “My name is Hannah,” pointing at herself before turning and speaking to King Isaac and his sister, and the other man I assume is his Beta. He seems important.
The group confers, with me understanding next to nothing, and then Isaac steps forward, saying something else I can’t understand. “Are you in… trouble?” She struggles with the words.
Inquieter.
Trouble
I take a deep breath and tell her the truth for the first time that night. “I will be if I go back without a guarantee that the king has shown interest in me.”
Hannah grimaces, shaking her head with an exasperated expression that tells me she doesn’t understand.
Slower, I say, “Yes. My uncle wants a meeting with the king. He said I had a meeting with the king today.” I watch and wait for confirmation that Hannah understands.
She sighs, giving me a tight smile before walking about over to where the group is standing and watching. A short conversation takes place. I manage to sip my tea, stealing a glance around the room while my fate is decided.
I take note of the kitchen, of the soft white paint on the cabinets and the stainless steel appliances. Vases of flowers are arranged throughout the room, and in the far corner a cozy breakfast nook overlooks the back garden through ceiling-height windows that send sprays of warm, spring sunlight dusting over everyone in the room.
It’s a beautiful space. I can’t remember the last time I saw a room like this–warm and inviting–a room that feels like it’s full of love and designed with a family in mind.
I look down into my tea as a pang of regret swells in my chest. My mother used to pull a stool up to the stove while she cooked so I could sit and watch. My father used to dance around with me on his shoulders outside the kitchen window above the sink so I could say hi to my mother while she did the dishes. Whenever I couldn’t sleep, I’d sneak downstairs to steal cookies from the jar on the counter, always finding my father doing the exact same thing.
My fingers curl around the tea cup as the memories of my parents seep over my mind like a tidal wave. Everything had been so perfect until Mom got sick. When she died, it was just me and Dad, and everything was fine for a while…
Then Louisa came along, and my whole world spiraled out of control.
The cookie jar, white porcelain and painted with delicate blue flowers, had been the first thing Lousia ruined. She swept through my life and took it apart piece by piece, starting with the jar. She’d slammed it on the ground, smashing it to pieces, and made me clean it up.
I close my eyes against the unwanted memory of Louisa’s malice as tears sting my eyes. I feel cool fingers against my cheek, wiping the tears away. I look up with a start and find Princess Ella standing in front of me.
I jerk away, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Hannah moves into view, and a quick scan of the room tells me King Isaac and his Beta have left the room.
I’ve failed.
And now I’m crying in front of the princess.
“New clothes? Shoes?” Hannah asks, waving her hand over my gnarled and shredded fabric shoes and wet gown.
“Oh, no. Please–”
Princess Ella extends her hand. “Come, we won’t bite.”
I’m not sure what that means, but when I look up at her, into those sea-green eyes, I see kindness. Her eyes are fanned by thick, black lashes, and the color of her eyes seem to shift from green to a pale blue. An odd feeling sweeps over me as I reluctantly lay my hand in hers. She pulls me to my feet and ropes an arm around my shoulders. It’s such a casual motion, like we’re friends, and I feel my cheeks heat furiously as I try to stop myself from trembling.
That feeling, I begin to recognize it but stow it away for later.
“The king is talking to your uncle,” Hannah says, taking her time to get the words right in my language.
“I’m in trouble,” I try to say, but the words are a whisper as the princess and Hannah lead me down a hallway and into a room on the first floor. My attention snaps to a row of machines lining the wall. “What is that?”
Hannah watches my mouth as I speak. She smiles, glancing at Ella before stretching her arms wide. “Laundry house.”
“House?”
“Room?” She grimaces, shaking her head. “Not fluent.” She taps her head and motions to one of the machines. “Washes clothes. Dries clothes.”
My mouth drops open as I step toward one of the machines. “You mean, you don’t have to scrub the clothing and hang it to dry?”
Princess Ella and Hannah glance at each other.
A tingling sensation blooms in the back of my throat as I walk along the line of machines. They must think I’m some kind of peasant. Uneducated, poor, and feral.
I guess I am, compared to them. Visiting Crescent Falls three years ago had been like stepping through time. Everything was so modern, so shiny and new.
My calloused fingers curl as I snap out of my delusion and turn to face them.
Hannah hands me some clothes while the princess crouches on the far side of the room, speaking rapidly. I can’t understand a word Ella is saying, but Hannah points to my left foot and motions for me to lift my leg. Cheeks burning, I do as she bids, and she holds my foot while talking rapidly to Ella, who nods and pulls a pair of black sneakers from a shoe rack.
I’ve never worn sneakers before.
“Dress,” Hannah says with a smile, then she and the princess leave the room.
I stand with the clothes and shoes in my hands, alone. The sound of machines whirling fills the silence. My heart is hammering in my chest as I peel my wet gown from my body and put on the clothes they provided. A white shirt with long sleeves and a pair of gray pants that hang from my body, the fit meant for someone whose bones don’t stick out.
But I sigh with relief after slipping on a pair of thick socks. The sneakers fit perfectly. I could run very, very far in these before they fall to pieces.
I almost forgot what I’d planned to do. I fell back into delusion the second I was shown kindness.
I can’t let that happen again.
Maybe I can run now?
I open the door and find the princess and Hannah waiting for me.
Nevermind.
I want to ask why these women even care enough to offer me clothes and new shoes. I want to ask why they’re so kind without expecting anything in return. Maybe they are expecting something, but whatever that might be, I don’t have time to ask.
A few moments later, I find myself in a sitting room, alone. I take a few deep breaths, still thinking of fleeing but needing a moment to gather my thoughts.
Then King Isaac enters the room and shatters that idea.
“I never scheduled another meeting with you or your uncle,” he says, but his words shift and blur. I pick up a few words, but by his expression and stance I can understand his meaning loud and clear.
You are unwelcome here.
I open my mouth, searching for any reply he can understand, but the words fall flat.
But then, in my language, he says, “I am not fluent in Celestorian, but I know a few words.
I startle, looking up at him. How much of what I’ve said has he understood? Not enough to know I hadn’t told him my name is Jenny when we were standing outside….
“What game are you playing?” he demands in my language, his accent making it difficult to understand him.
“I’m–I’m not–” I mutter.
“You came onto my property uninvited.”
“I was told I had a meeting with you today.” I swallow hard and lean back in my chair. King Isaac is not the young prince I met three years ago. The boyish warmth from the ball has been replaced by cold indifference. He doesn’t recognize me, that’s clear.
I barely recognize him, for that matter.
“Then you were led astray,” he says, tucking his hands in his pockets as he watches me like a predator. He sees me as a threat. I can almost taste his suspicion. “I have… chosen someone else as a bride.” He lingers on each word as if reaching into the recesses of his mind to find them and arrange them so I can understand.
My heart falls into my stomach.
I’m dead.
I’m dead if I don’t run.
“I’ll go,” I say, choking on the words.
But then Reginald walks into the room.