A different servant came in with the slipper on the gold tray. Again, Felicia realized that there was no female to assist with the shoe. It took effort to speak up for her modesty the first time in her home, but now at the castle and in front of the royal family? Her resolve waivered until she met the blue-eyed glare of Prince Bastion. Her shoulders stiffened. That spoiled prince isn’t going to get a peek at my ankles!
Before the servant reached them, Felicia stood. “Pardon me, but could we get a female servant to try on the slipper?” She looked at the king and the prince. “And I’d prefer to have my modesty honored as well.”
“I knew it,” Prince Bastion burst out. “It doesn’t fit. And now you’re trying to stall from being exposed to your deceit.”
Forgetting all about using proper protocol, Felicia lost the reigns over her tongue. “Trust me, Sire, if I were to think of some elaborate scheme to come into money, it wouldn’t involve having to see your arrogant face every day for the rest of my life.”
Prince Bastion’s cheeks became a mottled red and he opened his mouth. But before he could say anything, the king stepped in front of Felicia. “I can get a female servant for your comfort, but I must confirm with my own eyes that the shoe fits.”
Lips twisting, Felicia nodded and sat, doing her best to tamp down her ire at Prince Bastion.
“Don’t bother to send for another servant,” the queen said. “I’ll do it myself.”
Felicia glanced up at the queen with her mouth open in surprise.
The queen took the glass slipper and knelt before Felicia, giving her a close view of the older woman’s gold crown cushioned by thick blonde braids.
The room was quiet. Everyone seemed to be as shocked as Felicia at having someone of high rank kneeling before her. Blinking, Felicia wondered if this was some sort of twisted dream. The queen removed Felicia’s leather shoe, her nose wrinkling as she placed it to the side. Then she put the slipper on Felicia’s foot.
Frowning, the queen bent lower to inspect the fit.
Prince Bastion and his father also leaned in to get a better look.
Sighing, she pushed modesty aside and raised her foot higher, then shook it like she did earlier. There was no disputing that the shoe fit perfectly.
Prince Bastion’s gaze strayed to her exposed ankle, his eyes warming. Flushing, Felicia quickly put her foot down and covered it with her skirt. Her stomach fluttered, but she couldn’t if it was in a pleasant or ill manner.
“See?” Viscount Durand’s smile was broad and beyond pleased. “Our family is also one that keeps their word. Now, shall we sign the marriage contract?”
“But Father,” the prince protested, his expression outraged. “You can’t honestly expect me to marry her. She’s clearly here to rescue her family from financial ruin.”
Stepping close, the king’s face was hard as stone. “That wasn’t a stipulation in your damned proclamation,” he said in a low voice.
“Wait.” Everyone stopped and glanced down at Felicia. Her spine trembling, she stood and looked at the king. “There are two weeks until month’s end. What if Prince Bastion can find another whose foot fits this slipper, then perhaps he can choose his bride out of the other and myself.” Of course, all of them knew who the prince would be choosing. Though Felicia didn’t want to marry him, it still stung that the prince was so clearly repulsed by her. Perhaps he’d heard the gossip that she was a harlot, just like her mother. A vicious lie, but one he’d certainly believe.
Prince Bastion frowned, his expression confused and pensive.
Exhaling loudly, the king nodded. “That’s quite reasonable.”
Felicia nodded, ignoring the burning glare her father threw at her.
Viscount Durand cleared his throat. “Might I make a request, Your Highness?”
Stepping away from his family, the king turned to the viscount. “I’m listening.”
“My daughter is not schooled in the ways of court.” He bowed his head. “I realize that she may not marry the prince after all, but if she does, she’ll need to learn much before she’ll be ready to rule by your son’s side.”
“I can’t disagree with that assessment,” the king murmured.
“May Felicia stay in the castle and observe while we wait to see if the prince can find this other woman? She’s a quick study and will be much better prepared if it turns out they will indeed wed.”
The king’s beard twitched as he thought. The queen and the prince, however, glared at Felicia’s father. Felicia’s chest tightened and she gripped the arms of the chair. Thanks, Father. You’ve just painted a target on our backs for both the prince and the queen.
Finally, the king held out his hand to Viscount Durand. “Sounds fair to me. Send her back here tomorrow and everything will be prepared for her stay.” He glanced at his wife as if giving her a silent command to make the arrangements. The queen folded her arms and glanced away, her jaw flexed so tight that Felicia thought it might snap.
The viscount shook his hand and bowed his head. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
The king commanded that Prince Bastion keep Felicia company while he and the viscount went over the marriage contract. Felicia sat stiffly while a maid served them tea. It was impossible to ignore the prince’s brooding glare.
Felicia sipped her tea, wondering how things had gotten so far out of control, as the hot liquid formed a path down her chest and into her stomach.
“Why did you say that?” the prince asked.
Setting her teacup on a side table, she frowned. “Say what?”
Prince Bastion leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why did you suggest I take more time to find another girl? You could have ensnared me into marriage today.”
“I don’t want to marry you,” she said softly.
It was quiet in the room. Perhaps her declaration had hurt his feelings. The prince was likely not used to having women rejecting him.
“We both know that’s untrue. Why else would you be here?”
Ire stiffened her spine. “You have the audacity to call me a liar?”
“Beg pardon, my lady.” His tone dripped with contempt. “But a fortune hunter such as yourself isn’t exactly trustworthy.”
“Excuse me?” Felicia’s voice was higher than ever before, making her sound like a child. Heat spread up her cheeks. “You do not know me, sir. I could be the epitome of virtue.”
“Please.” He folded his arms and leaned back as if it were obvious. “It’s no secret that your father is struggling. Any money he once had has gone to poor investments. The only thing keeping you afloat is his paltry title of nobility. But that may only carry you through for another month or so.” He shrugged. “So you pursued an opportunity with that small foot of yours.”
Having her grievances over the last few years listed in such a casual manner hit hard in the gut. Her corset felt too tight and Felicia’s fingers tingled with longing to slap the condescending look off the prince’s face.
“And, no doubt, you think I’m exactly like my mother.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Who is your mother?”
Tension worked from her torso to her shoulders. “Don’t toy with me. I’ll not go into the sordid details of my mother abandoning us for your amusement.”
The prince frowned, studying her. “She was the one who ran off with the town blacksmith?”
Instead of answering, Felicia stood and faced the window, glancing over the splendor. After she felt a fraction calmer, she said, “Playing ignorant doesn’t become you, sir. Everyone knows the story and no doubt you’re privileged to hear all the gossip in the kingdom.”
“This may come as a shock to you,” retorted the prince, “but I do my best to not listen to the gossip circulating through the nobility. I find there’s only a grain of truth in the pile of dung people toss around.”
Surprise made her head feel light, and she turned to look at the prince. His posture was stiff, but he looked sincere enough. The f
act that the prince didn’t listen to all the torrid gossip made her see him in a different light. “Well, still.” Where was her witty comeback? Her brain was working too slowly. Without her mask of indifference and her wits to hide behind, she felt vulnerable. It wasn’t a good feeling and anger rose to the surface. “If you had any wits at all, you would have made a completely different decree to find your girl.”
The prince stood and glared at her. “She left her shoe behind, which is unusually small. It seemed the best way to find her was to fit the slipper back on her foot. How was I to know there would be another girl with extremely tiny feet?”
Felicia stared, her mouth open. “You didn’t think that through at all!” she finally bellowed. “How could you command every eligible maiden in the entire kingdom to show her ankles to complete strangers and think that’s okay? Why couldn’t you have sent out a detailed description of your mystery princess and told everyone if they found her that they’d receive an award?”
Blinking, Prince Bastion’s lips turned downward. “My idea seemed very romantic at the time,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
Folding her arms, Felicia huffed. “I’m fairly certain that all the maidens who had to expose themselves on your behalf did not find that romantic in the least, myself included.”
He turned as if to leave and Felicia couldn’t stem her outburst as she raged to his back. “You know nothing, Prince. But how could you?” She gestured around the room. “All you’ve had is entitlement. And you even shrug off the responsibility that supposedly comes with higher status. You’re insensitive to anyone or anything that doesn’t interest you and you judge others who do what they can to not fall into a pit of despair.” He spun and she pointed a finger in his face. “For your information, I don’t want to marry you, nor am I a treasure hunter. I care not for riches but for living a full and happy life.” Her godmother would be tickled to learn that Felicia quoted her. “But you, you only think of yourself. You’re not just selfish, but incomparably shortsighted.”
His ears tinted red and his nostrils flared. “How dare you call me shortsighted?”
“I very much dare, sir, because you can’t see anything outside of yourself!” Felicia realized she’d lost it. There was a part of her that was screaming to get herself under control, but her body, particularly her mouth, wasn’t listening. She couldn’t shut off this rant. “Do you not realize that you’ve ruined my life? You think I want to be stuck in a loveless marriage? Why do you think I’m unmarried?”
The prince frowned. “I had assumed… well that is to say, I believed no one had—”
She cut him off, not wanting to hear again how much the prince thought her undesirable. “This may come as a surprise to you, oh selfish one, but I had offers. While we are poor, we’re still nobility and men wanted to marry into that title.”
Prince Bastion’s brows came together. “And you declined? Did they have no lands or money?”
“Yes to both, you insensitive buffoon!” Never had she raised her voice so much. The servants were staring at her as if she’d grown a second head. Felicia couldn’t believe how much he’d gotten to her. She’d always tolerated the jabs and disdain from the rest of society, but for some reason, his harsh judgment had her screaming like a raving banshee. “I said no because I knew I wanted to marry for love or not at all. And your half-brained proclamation ruined all of that.”
The room settled into an uneasy silence, with the servants staring at the floor as they shifted. Felicia turned and inhaled a shaking breath. Her anger was draining away, but now tears threatened. He must not see me cry. She knew he’d exploit her weakness and hit her while she was down, just like everyone else did.
“It seems my passionate nature has doomed us both then.”
The king and her father entered, saving her from responding.
Chapter 4
Felicia lay in her bed, beyond exhausted, but sleep eluded her and thinking of what the following day would be like bombarded her. She’d be moving to the palace tomorrow. Thankfully, her father agreed to let her bring Tess as her personal maid.
They’d finally left the castle after the king and her father drew up the marriage contract. Of course, no one would sign until the end of the month. But it was postdated so that they could marry as soon as the deadline arrived.
Prince Bastion hadn’t said another word to her after their confrontation, nodding a farewell when they left. Her father had been jovial the entire way home, wanting to celebrate. Felicia had pleaded exhaustion and escaped to her room, but her mind whirled with her predicament.
When the first pink rays of light filtered through her curtains, Felicia got up and went about her morning ablutions. She had to wait for Tess to lace up her corset, so she stayed in her nightgown and robe, packing her valise with the items she wanted to keep with her. Tess would take care of the rest while she broke her fast.
Yawning, Felicia sat at her desk and penned a letter to Lady Ella.
Dearest Godmother,
You would not believe what has happened these last couple of days. Pure madness, I tell you. And it’s not only my father this time. The worst part? His fantasy has become reality and I’m being sent to the castle to wed Prince Bastion. The man despises me, and I can’t say I express any affection for him, either. The one thing I wanted in life was a marriage filled with love, where I could share my life with someone else and be happy. How can I accept this fate when it goes against everything I’ve yearned for?
What am I to do? You must visit me. I need your wisdom and your guidance. I can’t imagine being a princess. Me, of all people. With the ridicule I’ve endured over the past four years, I doubt I’d be able to get anyone to obey my commands. Especially since the prince and the queen both loathe my very existence.
Please see me at your earliest convenience. Just go to the castle and ask for the imposter pretending to be the princess. They’ll know exactly whom you’re speaking of.
Your most devoted goddaughter,
Felicia Durand
Sealing the letter with hot wax, Felicia printed the name Ella de la Roche and left it on the desk. Tess would know to send it when she saw it.
As if summoned by her thoughts, her maid entered the room and helped Felicia change into her best dress. It was still drab in comparison to richer nobility, but the dark blue complimented her complexion and contrasted well with her brown tresses.
Viscount Durand was already downstairs and bursting with energy when Felicia entered the dining room.
“Father?” Felicia eyed him as she put eggs and kippers on her plate. “You rarely get up before noon, and even then, you take a full hour to wake.”
The viscount laughed. “Well, this is no ordinary day, is it? You move into the castle and will be married in a fortnight!”
Sighing, she sat at the table to eat. “You’re assuming the prince won’t find the other girl. He probably will.”
“No, no.” He sat across from her. “I feel it in my bones. This is going to work.” He reached over and patted her hand.
Felicia looked down at her plate so he wouldn’t see the derision she felt. It was difficult not to remind him that those words were spoken each time he’d made a poor investment.
He sat back. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out with the prince, you have two weeks to meet other nobles who frequent the castle. You can work your charms to get one of them to marry you.”
This time she did look up, and let the exasperation she felt show. “Really, Father? Have you not heard anything I’ve said when I turned down other suitors?”
Shrugging, the viscount pulled out a small canvas bag of tobacco to fill his pipe. “I was likely too irate with you to listen. Especially with the last one.” Who had been extremely wealthy.
Felicia didn’t understand why her father couldn’t comprehend her desires. She’d thought that of all people, he would support her in this. Her mother had been so unhappy in her loveless marriage with the viscount. That m
isery had led to the most selfish act of running off with her “true love” and leaving a daughter and husband behind to deal with the mess.
Forcing a bite of cold eggs in her mouth, Felicia let the matter drop, trying to push away all the hurtful remarks and jabs she’d had to endure since then.
Will life be different if this farce of a wedding actually takes place? Would the other nobility try to be friendly with our elevated status? No, she decided. That was something unrealistic, like her father’s fancies. They never came true. Except you might marry the prince. But Felicia still hoped that she’d get out of it. Being a spinster was much more desirable.
The trip to the castle was much better this time, since Felicia could ride her own horse and enjoy the fresh air. She didn’t care much for being stuck in a stuffy carriage, even the nice royal ones.
No one in the royal family received Felicia upon her arrival. A groom led her horse away while an older woman led her and Tess through the maze that was considered a hallway to her chambers. Two servants trailed them with her luggage.
The servants exited the chambers, leaving Felicia and Tess to wonder at their new living quarters. Everything screamed extravagance, from the silk sheets on the spacious bed to the plush rugs lining the apartment. Felicia’s anteroom was larger than her father’s parlor. And the closet was already filled with new gowns. Vanilla and rose drifted over the smell of the fire blazing in the fireplace, making her shoulders relax.
Under different circumstances, Felicia would have savored every bit of newfound opulence. But the situation soured everything, making luxury salt in her fresh wound. No amount of satins and jewels would cover the fact that the prince didn’t want her, or that the queen disapproved of her, and that she wanted nothing to do with them.
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