The Prince's Bride (Part 2)
Page 17
I looked, and sure enough, there it was.
“Even the second heavily debated pieces of legislation, the Nationalism Reform Act, did not make coverage today. The Ersovian Times is one of the most reputable papers in the nation. Unlike the Morning Eagle, they do their best not to report gossip or anyone they cannot quote on the record or fact check. Because of that, they have the people’s trust but not always people’s attention. The people sometimes wish to bash and complain about the privileged, so the Morning Eagle feeds that desire. The Ersovian Times wants the attention back but also wants their dignity. So, I am sure they spent time wondering what they could factually report, and here comes your sister, slandering us all!”
Snip.
“I—”
“Today, people woke up to the news that their monarchy looks down upon those who are not as educated as us, who do not have the same background as us. Today, people woke up to the news that their monarchy is forcing you to abandon your mother. And they will believe it because the most trusted source not only reported it but so did your sister. And now I am left wondering what I should do? Should I call your mother here? No, then it will seem as if we are guilty and trying to cover it up. However, if I do not call your mother here, it will seem as if it is true, and we do not care that they know. So please, Odette, advise me, what shall be done?”
“I do not know, ma’am.”
“Well, that is no help at all.”
Snip.
“I will talk to my sister—”
“Did you not talk to her after the first time?”
Snip.
I hung my head. “I did.”
“So, it does not seem likely that talking works.” Snip. “So far, you have not been any help. We have not gotten any of your money, we are continuously in the papers for all the wrong reasons, and you have no idea how to stop it.” Snip. “Fine. Let us move on then so I can remind you of how important the Royal Bellecoeur Garden Party is.”
“I know, ma’am.”
“I pray for all of our sakes that you do.”
Snip.
Chapter 16
My dress for the Royal Bellecoeur Garden Party was a modest soft-pink, knee-length, long-sleeved, tailored-bodice cocktail, and I did not like it. It was not that it was ugly; it was just very church mother-ish. However, the queen had chosen it, so I said nothing. In fact, she had personally selected every piece of jewelry, my shoes, my clutch, and even my makeup for today, choosing how she wished me to look. And I said I would just accept it all. However, as I sat in the chair to get my hair done, I regretted that.
“Wait,” I said when she brought out a flat iron.
“Her Majesty says you will wear it straight today,” my new hairstylist said.
I could not remember her name, and in all honesty, I did not think she would last long. She was the sixth in what felt like a disappointing, never-ending line of hairstylists Gelula had searched for and brought back to me with hope shimmering in her eyes.
I tried to give each one at least a single try. Some weren’t that bad, but they weren’t great, either. Now this stranger's first job would be to straighten my hair. I could not remember the last time I had straightened my hair. Even though I always complained about combing it out and wrapping it up and taking care of it, I loved it as it was.
“If we do not start now, we won’t finish in time,” the stylist said, and I followed her gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
There, standing at attention, was Gelula and the queen’s assistant just watching. And it made me feel worse. I knew their jobs were to stay and help in any way they could, but part of me felt like they were just watching out of curiosity. I was not a zoo animal.
“May I start?” the stylist asked.
I wanted to say no.
But instead, I nodded.
And so, she began to take my curls, section by section, through the hot plates, pressing them out till they were bone straight. Each time she did, I saw my hair fall. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was not a zoo animal. I hadn’t left this cage in weeks. I could not go anywhere, not that I knew where to go. But still, I was locked in. Being trained to walk and sit and eat the way they wanted me to.
I was a zoo animal.
This was a circus.
And I had walked right into it.
So, I could not say anything.
It took almost three hours before she finished, and I could see the final product.
“Wow, you look so beautiful,” Gelula gushed, grinning from ear to ear.
Did I not before?
“Miss?” Gelula’s smile dropped, and her eyes widened.
I did not know why until the tear came out of my eye. “Oh, my God,” I said, quickly grabbing a tissue to touch up under my eye. They all looked very concerned, even the stylist. “Sor—I mean, I’m just happy with it. Thanks to you.” I stood up and turned to the almost half-dozen people, all trying to help me prepare. “Really, thank you all.”
“You will do amazing today,” Gelula said with confidence.
“From your lips to God’s ears,” I replied.
I can do this. I will do this.
“You are fidgeting again, sir,” Iskandar whispered from behind me as I waited down the hall for Odette to step outside of the room.
“Let me fidget. No one else is here to see anyway,” I muttered back, checking my watch. We were not late. I just needed something to distract myself. Today was the big day, and I was not sure if the discomfort I felt was due to nerves or a general sense of awkwardness. In a way, it was ironic. I had worked so hard to get closer to Odette, wanting not to look like every other stiff, cold, and heartless couple who came out to their engagement events only to feel just like that anyway.
This is going to be okay.
Once this is over, we can both relax a bit more, and it will get better. I lied to myself because there would always be some other event, like our wedding. Oh God, our wedding—we had not even begun to talk about it. I did not want to think about it. I reached up to run my hands through my hair, but a firm grip stopped me. I turned to Iskandar to see him frowning.
“Sir, you both will survive this. Now, please stop fidgeting. You will ruin your hair,” he said.
I chuckled. It was the only amusing thing I’d heard in a while. “Iskandar, I did not think you cared so much. I expect this kind of thing from Wolfgang.”
He made a face at the mention of Wolfgang’s name, so I had something new to distract myself with. “What is it with you two? Why are you always so hard on him?”
“I am firm with everyone.”
“Yes.” I nodded while thinking about it. “Yes, but it is only when I say Wolfgang’s name that your stony face changes slightly.”
“I do not know what you are talking about, sir.”
“Yes, sure. If I did not know better, I would say you...” my voice trailed off as the doors opened. Turning back, my heart started to beat faster, and I could hear the sound of heels as they made their way to me. I wanted to see her, to get to hold her hand finally. However, the beautiful woman who walked toward me was not the beautiful woman I knew and thought I was waiting for. Her big curls were now straight, and she wore a small pink hat on the side of her head and a manufactured smile. Beyond that, I could not see anything else anymore.
“Hi, have you been waiting long?” she asked gently, her voice barely a whisper...and dull. I wanted to reach out and shake her.
“No,” I finally managed to say. I forced a smile myself. “You look beautiful, as always.”
“Thank you. Are you ready? Oh, I need to stand on this side.” She shifted to my left quickly.
And I could see her checking off a list of things she had to do and where she had to stand. Before I even offered her my arm, she placed her hands where she must have practiced they should be. She was not looking at me, still lost in thought. She was standing right here and yet was so far away.
“Odette,” I called, trying to bring her back.
“No, you are doing everything right.” You are dying.
And it brought me utter despair to see her misery, but I was still glad she was here, so I put my hand over hers, tapping slightly, and smiled. “Let us go see the world.”
She took a breath and nodded. I tried to focus as we walked from the east wing of the palace down to the gardens. But her silence only further disturbed my mind. What was going through her head? How had she been for the last few days? Weeks? What was going on with her sister? How were her tutors? It was maddening how so much had happened and how little I knew of her. This was custom? This was tradition, not having any real free or private time to talk to your future wife until you were married? I guess it made sense when most marriages, except for my father’s, was arranged. But in the modern world, it seemed ridiculous. It was even more ridiculous considering that we were already married.
“Gale! Odette!”
Before I even open my mouth, I felt Odette curtsy beside me to both Eliza and my mother, who stood at the double glass doors, guards standing at each end, preparing for us to step out into the garden.
“Just as I thought. You look very nice like this,” my mother said, putting on her gloves and nodding only once as she took in all of Odette.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Odette replied with little to no emotion at all.
Does anyone else feel as though all oxygen is being sucked from around us?
“Where is Grandmother?” Eliza asked as she moved to stand on my left. “Did she not arrive already?”
“The queen mother’s flight was canceled due to poor weather, and thus, she is unable to attend this morning,” Ambrose answered as he stood like a statue on the side of the corridor.
“Really? Will she be coming tomorrow, then?” Eliza questioned, now looking at our mother, who clearly did not care in the least.
“Let us worry about today before we think of tomorrow. Odette.” At the mention of Odette’s name, my attention returned to the woman at my side, even though she looked at my mother. “Your ring—center it.”
She had to be joking. She found the slightest thing to nitpick. But she was not, and Odette quickly adjusted the engagement ring on her hand without argument or so much as a second thought. The queen spoke, and she reacted quickly.
“We are ready, Ambrose,” my mother replied, stepping in front of us all.
When the doors opened, they announced all of our titles. The Victory Garden was littered with people, for as far and I could see. They stood upon the green lawns, around the swan ponds, all waiting. I had wanted Odette and me to eat lunch here at least once before today. Sure, she could see how beautiful the white cherry blossom trees were in the distance, and to the left and the right, purple orchid trees were everywhere. The Victory Garden was like a magical oasis when no one was there.
“Her Majesty, Queen Elspeth,” they announced as my mother stepped out into the direct sunlight.
When it was our turn to step out, I felt her grip on my arm. Her feet stilled, her eyes transfixed by the massive crowd waiting.
“Cinderella,” I whispered, and her head whipped back to me.
She stared for a brief moment until the corner of her lips turned upward. Good, she was still in there.
“Everything will be fine. You have me.”
“I—”
“His Royal Highness, Prince Galahad, and Miss Odette Wyntor.”
I squeezed her hand before we were forced out into the sunlight as we walked down the stairs behind my mother, and she squeezed my arm tightly. I wanted to know what her expression was; however, I could not look at her. Instead, I was forced to see the many faces watching us in return. Most notably, the prime minister. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, along with other ministers and members of the government, to pay their respects first.
Like always, the smug-faced fool who was Ivan S. Hermenegild lifted my mother’s hand to kiss it. His blond hair was slicked back as if he had just returned from the 1920s with more archaic world views to force down our throats. When we stopped in front of him as my mother made her way to the next man, I tried to contain my disgust for him, but that was impossible as his disgust was so damn evident.
“Adelaar.” He nodded to me, then cast a downward glance at Odette as if she were beneath him and not the other way around. He did not touch, bow, or truly speak to her, merely said hello before shifting his gaze to Eliza and placing a fake smile as he once again returned to kissing hands.
The son of a whore.
My mother had all but demanded I stay within my bounds. I was not doing anything different from what had always been done or making a scene of any kind. I knew I should not, it was too early in the day for me to send everything to hell, but I could not let it stand.
“Prim—”
“Let it go,” Odette whispered, already pulling me to the next person.
I bit the inside of my jaw.
This was all shit!
All fucking shit!
I could not stand it, and had I not been the Adelaar, had Arthur been alive and still here, I would not have.
I had sensed it before, but I never had sincerely faced it. The truth of the matter was, Odette was not the only one the crown chipped away at—it had gotten to me, too.
“Adelaar. Miss.” We both forced ourselves to smile and nod back at them, making conversation that early in the morning that I would not remember.
How pitiful that this was the state of the monarchy?
This was the life of the great House of Monterey?
“She is unhappy,” Wolfgang lamented next to me with a deep frown as we watched the couple in front of us greet all the guests in the Victory Garden.
So is he, I thought but did not speak, only scanned the crowd. Though everyone was of some level of importance and had been cleared, then double-checked for today’s event, their close proximity to the royal family was unsettling. The fact that anyone could just walk up to them and talk was unsettling.
“What are we going to do to help them?” Wolfgang asked, and I just turned to him.
The desire to hit him was so strong that my hand even rose, but I regained my composure and reminded him. “Wolfgang, I am working.”
“These are the most affluent people on the continent and not just the nation. Who are—”
“This is yet another reason why you did not make the royal guard,” I replied, stepping forward as a man approached from the left somewhat drunkenly. The event had only just begun, and there was this foolishness. I reached up to my ear.
“We have a duck,” I said.
“I have eyes on him. Blocking view now,” Thelma stated from her place a few feet behind Odette. She stepped farther to the side, so no one behind her would see the fool.
“We got him.” Two other undercover security men, dressed in suits and not their uniforms, said, coming up beside the man as if they were his long-lost friends, guiding him away from the Adelaar and Adelina.
“Be prepared for others,” I said, and they nodded. There was no way in hell I was going to let anyone ruin today, not after so much had been sacrificed for it.
“What is a duck?”
My shoulders slightly rose at the whisper behind my ears. I gritted my teeth. “You are about to become a duck, Wolfgang. If you are not needed at your post, find someone else to disturb.”
“And here I thought we were friends. Buddies brought together by our mutual desire to protect these two.” He pouted, watching the pair in front of us again. When they moved, we moved as well.
“We were brought together by a work order form,” I replied, even though I did not want to respond, nor would have had it been anyone else.
“So, you do not care about them?”
I stopped talking, hoping he would get th
e hint. But it was Wolfgang. Hints flew over his head like planes over the ocean.
He leaned in to whisper, and I stepped farther away. “Iskandar, you know you are the only person I can talk to about this stuff. We are the only ones who know—”
“I. Am. Working,” I repeated because he did not understand the words coming out of my mouth the first time.
He looked up at me for a long time then shook his head as if I were the unreasonable one. Oh, the man-child infuriated me.
“Careful.”
My head whipped back to them, already walking forward, only to see that Odette had caught the little girl from falling and helped her stand. How she managed to move so gracefully in those death contraptions they called heels, all the while keeping her dress unstained, was beyond my logic. I also noticed that everyone within viewing distance had stopped and were now openly staring, not pretending like they once were to have conversations as they tried to get a glimpse of the future queen.
“Are you all right?” Odette asked in perfect Ersovian.
“Yes, I am sorry, Your Highness,” the little girl said as she curtsied.
“There is no need to apologize. And even though you curtsied very well—much better than I do, I must say—I am not Your Highness yet. You may call me Miss Odette. What is your name?”
Once more, I was surprised by her fluent speech already. I looked at Prince Galahad, and he also seemed a bit stunned.