Kerdik jerked his chin at me. “I was just going to fix it. Would you get off my back?” With his elemental energy crap, Kerdik repaired my counter in under five seconds. “There! Are you happy?”
“I’m pretty sure you meant to say, ‘I love you, Rosie. I’m sorry I lost my temper and tried to break your house.’ I mean, honestly. What’s Lane going to say when she gets back?”
“Lane will say, ‘Master Kerdik, can I get you some tea?’ ‘Master Kerdik, whatever you wish shall be done.’ That’s how normal people talk to me.”
I pretended to barf all over his shirt. “Did somebody run off with your lueur or something? You’re a little more egotistical than usual today.”
Kerdik whirled on his heel and barked at my father, “Urien, would you handle your daughter?”
Urien’s wide eyes hadn’t calmed the entire time. I think he was just now getting a handle on our hard-swinging dynamic. The corners of his mouth started twitching upward, though he tried to hide his amusement. “Darling, perhaps you should go rest while we wait for Bastien to return. Kerdik, old friend, I can’t imagine what you hope to accomplish by shouting at my daughter in my presence.”
“Fine!” we both yelled. Then I called over my shoulder, “I’m too worked up to sleep, though. I’ll be on the wall if anyone needs me.” Then to Kerdik, I spouted, “And don’t you dare step a toe outside this palace until you clean up the mess you made, young man.”
“Sass me again, and I’ll turn you over my knee myself!” Kerdik countered, married to his temper and single for life.
I threw him the middle finger before I marched out of the kitchen, chin in the air and anxiety churning in my belly.
9
Rosie the Formidable
I kept to myself for the most part on the job the next few days. My head stayed down as I tried to quell the nerves that churned in my gut. Kerdik and I did our best to stop fighting, but our friendship usually banked on him being the unstable one, not both of us. We’d argued so much one of the nights that he’d stormed out and sent Draper to watch me while I slept – or more accurately, while I tossed and turned. I didn’t need a mirror to know that I had bags under my eyes and looked like a frazzled version of my former self, but it wasn’t as if I was auditioning for any beauty contests. At night when my family held court, Urien and Draper stopped waiting for my labored response on most matters. My mind was too unsettled to be of much use in the academic sense. Besides, my dad liked to rule on the side of unswerving black and white, no matter the heartfelt pleas and dodgy circumstances. Once I understood the laws of the land, I was pretty well trained on how to be useful, should he need a day off.
Pascal assigned me to work mixing mortar, since Kerdik had noticed a long cut across my back from when I’d been lugging bricks the day before. That had been World War III between us, or more realistically, Word War XXVII, since we were at each other’s throats more often than not these days. We usually made up by the time I passed out in his arms.
I had sweat running down my back, making my tank top stick to my skin. A few women strolled down the line of men, offering water and rolls they’d just baked.
An older woman with wrinkly fingers laid a roll at my side. “You know,” she said to me conspiratorially, “you don’t have to work with the men like this. I’ll make sure the women don’t shun you.” It was the first time a woman outside the mansion had spoken to me since it all went south.
My nose crinkled in confusion. “Huh? Why would they shun me?”
“Oh, you know. Because your fiancé left, and shamed you.”
I gaped at the gall of this woman, and tried to hurriedly talk myself down from lashing out. “So let me get this straight. If a woman gets dumped, she then has to deal with every other woman being a snob to her? You’d really kick a woman when she’s down?”
The old lady blinked at me. “It’s how things are done. If a man left, there’s clearly something wrong with her.”
“Nonsense. If you hear of that happening to any other women in the village, you come straight to me and tell me about it. That’s terrible. Band around your sister who’s grieving. We should all have some respect for other people’s pain.” I leveled my gaze at her. “Are there other women in Province 9 who are being shunned like this?”
She nodded carefully, not expecting to step into my wasp nest. “Of course.”
“Your official mission from the Avalon Rose is to go home and bake each of them a loaf of bread. Then you’ll spend the next week visiting every one of them in their homes, listening as if you give a crap about the women who aren’t lucky enough to have kings as fathers.” It was beginning to make sense why many of the women didn’t look me in the eye anymore during the nighttime suppers, and why none of them spoke to me.
Her mouth fell open, but she recovered quickly. “Yes, your grace.”
I watched her scurry off, and tried to stifle the venom in my soul before it rooted too deep for a smile to fend off (should one ever surface again).
“You’re going to go home with blisters if you mix that without the gloves,” Montel warned me, wiping the sweat that slid from his dark brow.
“Yeah, I know. They keep sliding off me. They’re men’s gloves, and my hands are just plain too small. I’ll give them another try, though.”
“Why don’t you take a break? You look about ready to fall over.”
“I’m alright. Gotta get this wall built.”
Montel chuckled, taking a swig from his canteen. “Pace yourself. It’s a large province, and we want the wall to encompass the whole thing. This is years of work, your majesty.”
I shook my head, donning the sturdy gray gloves that went up my whole forearm. “I told you to call me Rosie. I’m not exactly ruling a kingdom right now.” Even though Aimee had braided my hair into a tight French braid, a few strands always inevitably came loose and stuck to my neck.
Montel sobered. “No, no. I wouldn’t dream of disrespecting King Urien by calling his daughter by her first name, like his family is on the same level as me. That he’s back? It’s a miracle none of us thought we’d see. I won’t risk his wrath after waiting for so long to get him back.”
“You were from Province 3 before people started merging into 9, but you were still counting your lucky pennies, hoping to get my dad back? He was from Province 1.”
“Of course. But Morgan le Fae wasn’t always in charge. When King Urien ruled Province 1 with her as an equal, there was harmony in the land. Everyone loved all the rulers, no matter which part of Avalon we came from. It was when Morgan le Fae started taking over that the divisions grew so sharply defined. But those of us who believe that Avalon is worth saving held out hope that one day our king would return, and unite us once again.”
“What about the other dude rulers?”
“Oh, some of the dukes are fine. Many of the duchesses were great, as well, back when they were alive. The dukes do what they can with what they’ve been left. But King Urien loved his people, loved his land. He was much like you in that respect.”
I churned the mortar with the giant wood stick, but it didn’t feel all that effective with the giant gloves on. “Like me?”
“You’re helping rebuild the wall, not just ordering it be done. I have no doubt that once the king is fully back on his feet and the kingdom in order, he’ll be down here with the rest of us laborers. Why do you think none of us tire of the work?”
“I thought it was just because you’re all awesome.”
Montel smirked at me. “That, we are. But it’s also because we want to work beside our king once again. Show him we never gave up on Avalon, and that Morgan le Fae didn’t break us, either.”
I was about to tell Montel how much I appreciated him being so cool to me, but one of my handmaidens from the mansion ran down the path toward me with a giddy expression. Aimee was around seventeen, and seemed nice enough, though I didn’t know much about her. Most of the servants gave me a wide berth because they were afraid of K
erdik. Though she’d seen me naked dozens of times while helping me bathe and dress, she was usually in and out of my bedroom in twenty minutes, before much girl talk could occur. Her skirt flew out behind her as she ran toward us, tossing a private smile at one of the dudes behind me.
Today her smile didn’t make me nervous, which was odd, because lately everything did. Over the past hour, I’d been breathing more evenly, and my internal monologue hadn’t been so dejected. “Your majesty! Master Kerdik and King Urien, may he live forever, have requested you to come back to the palace.”
“What’s going on?”
She tipped up onto the balls of her feet, her brown shoes dusted with the dirt of the road. “The Untouchables! They’ve come back for us!”
Montel rose to his feet, calling over his shoulder to the rest of the men. “Did you hear that? Bastien the Bold has returned to help us restore our land!” His fist in the air was met by dozens of enthusiastic cheers.
“Well, that was fast.” All of it made me want to run far, far away. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be back home tonight once I’m finished with the wall for the day.”
Aimee’s face fell, and she stopped short of greeting the guy she was excited to see. Jean-Pierre was a nice enough dude, but I’d given him a wide berth, being that his sweat stank like hot garbage. I seemed to make him nervous, which only made him sweat more. “But I was instructed to bring you back straightaway. It seemed the matter was quite urgent.”
“I’m sure it’ll still be just as urgent tonight.” I wasn’t looking forward to another grudge match with Kerdik.
She twisted the fabric of her stained apron. “What am I to tell the king? And Master Kerdik, he’ll most certainly be displeased.”
“You don’t have to tell Kerdik anything at all. He’ll figure it out on his own easily enough when I don’t come home.”
“I, um, I don’t know, your grace.” Whispers broke out among the men, each one speculating on why I didn’t want to go greet our hometown heroes. News of my engagement being broken off had spread like wildfire through the land the day after it happened. I’d been getting a mix of looks that ranged from pity to fresh meat. Words like “shamed” and “jilted” followed me like a stigma. I refused to address it, but I felt the sting all the same.
A few beats later, Montel sat next to me on the sideways stump I’d been using as a seat. His voice was low, but firm. “If Master Kerdik requires something of Aimee, she must obey. You don’t want her to risk his wrath, do you?”
My shoulders slumped as I took off my gloves and dropped them in the dirt. “Oh, fine. Tell Pascal I didn’t want to leave. The job’s totally unfinished, but whatever.” Our foreman was out with Draper, procuring more supplies, since we were running low on a few things.
“My father knows of your dedication.” He stood and extended his hand to me, hoisting me up and walking as my escort, as Draper had asked him to do. I didn’t go anywhere without Montel as my shadow when I was on the job.
“Slower,” I requested, wishing for just a little more time before I had to face the man that had broken my heart. I was tanned from too many days in the sun. My fitted tank top and jeans were smeared with dust, mud and smudges of mortar.
Aimee was at my other side, her girl chatter in full swing. “They seemed quite anxious to have you home. Perhaps we should hurry along. Oh, Madigan the Formidable is even bigger than I remember.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Not eager to see your former fiancé?” Montel surmised with a sage smile.
“Right. Yeah, I’d rather be working, not dealing with a bunch of drama.”
“Perhaps he’s come to ask for your hand again? That would erase so many of the rumors. Then everyone would know that he didn’t shame you,” Aimee suggested with a teenaged optimism and romanticism about her that I was sorely missing. Girlfriend looked like she was about to start scrawling Rosie… whatever the crap Madigan’s last name was, all over her notebook. Rosie the Formidable. That actually had a nice ring to it.
“I’m not sure that’s it. I left something with my Guardien before they all took off. They’re just returning it.”
“I’m sure Madigan the Formidable is anxious to get a peek at you. Perhaps you should go up to your chambers, and I’ll draw you a bath first? We can sneak you in through the back.”
“Is that your fancy way of telling me I look like crap?” I asked her, managing what I hoped looked like a light expression to tease her with. I’d given up on smiling ages ago.
Aimee was horrified. “Oh, no, your grace! You’re lovelier than a thousand flowers. Lovelier still than if you had bathed and worn something other than mere peasants’ clothing.” She cupped her hand over her mouth to stem the flow of foot-in-mouth disease she seemed prone to.
Montel chuckled at my side. “You look like the rest of us laborers, and if he’s half the man you deserve, he’ll see the beauty in that. A woman working her fingers into blisters to help restore Avalon? A lovelier sight I’ve never seen.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Aw, that’s actually really sweet. Thanks, Montel. You’re very pretty, too.”
He laughed, and the sound was natural on him. “Ha! I guess I can turn in for the day, then. The Avalon Rose said I was pretty. Doesn’t get much better than that.”
Aimee shot him a narrow-eyed look that told him she thought he was a very bad boy, though he was nearly double her age. “Don’t be incorrigible, now. When Madigan the Formidable does ask for her hand again, you’ll want to keep that little flirtation under your hat.”
I tried not to sigh too obnoxiously. “I’m not marrying Madigan. I’m not marrying anybody. The wall. That’s what I’m marrying. That beautiful, sturdy piece of craftsmanship is who’s going to carry me over the threshold like the damsel I am.”
Montel jutted his chin toward the castle, and the men who waited inside. “I think that wall’s going to have some steep competition, your grace.”
10
My Boyfriend’s Back, and He’s Going to be in Trouble
“Lucy, I’m home!” I called throughout the house in a thick Hispanic accent after I waved goodbye to Montel. Aimee scurried away from me, no doubt afraid of the ensuing row Kerdik and I were known to have these days.
Link’s operatic voice boomed through the halls from the direction of the parlor, filling my home with the smile and song I’d been missing. “Rosie, I love ye! Rosie, I care. Rosie, without ye, my heart’s in despair.”
It wasn’t just Bastien I’d been living without; it was the trio of misfits who had ditched me outright. Having them back now felt like a fresh slice across the open wound I’d been pretending didn’t exist. I kicked off my filthy boots and toed through the halls to the parlor, which was kind of like a super formal living room. The high-backed seats were bedecked with bronze, making the emerald cushions seem to glow with a vibrancy I was too shell-shocked to feel.
There they were with my dad, hanging out like nothing had gone horribly wrong. Well, to be fair, Link was hanging out, lounging on the chaise like a naughty oversized boy you’d never bring home to meet your parents. He was grinning as he tossed a lively back and forth with my dad about their journey here. Mad was completely upright in his chair, not fiddling or participating in the conversation. As always, he remained on the outskirts of normal life. Kerdik stood behind my dad’s chair, bored of the mundane conversations.
When my eyes fell on Bastien, all the denial I’d been constructing into dams to hold my emotions back began to disintegrate – my best efforts reduced to nothing more than a sandcastle that collapsed with laughable ease. He was standing near the double doors, and I was surveying the room from the side entrance, just out of his view. He was unshaven and unwashed, his beard an inch long. His shoulder muscles that had been live wires of capability and brute determination were now slumped with too much tension and defeat. I simultaneously wanted to run to him and run far, far away, so I remained stock still, frozen like a deer with n
o place to go. “Where is she?” he growled with a touch of desperation.
Mad didn’t look in my direction, but jerked his thumb to rat me out. “She’s spying from over yonder, like a wee mouse.”
I fiddled with the hem of my tank top. It had been white when I’d put in on that morning, but was now a dusty brown and grey. Maybe I should’ve bathed. Or re-braided my hair. Or eaten lunch. Or worn something nicer.
Link shot up from his chair and barreled over to me, his arms outstretched. “Come here, wee mouse! Kiss your old Link like he’s been missing it.”
I backed away, wary of falling into the comfort too easily. They’d up and left without much warning, and as soon as Bastien gave me back what was mine, they would go again. I was a woman, which, for all of their talk about taking care of their women, counted for precious little. I was a toy to be cast aside whenever the wind shifted. As much as I understood and accepted it, the whole thing still stung.
Link’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s the matter? Didn’t ye miss me? I’ve brought back your prize fighter, plus one fiancé, at your service.”
“Thanks. But Mad’s not my fiancé anymore, so you don’t have to stay.”
Link’s face soured, and Mad craned his head to watch my lips move, making sure he’d heard me correctly. “‘Don’t have to stay?’ We came all the way from the outskirts of Province 1 to see ye, and tha’s all ye can say to me?”
I shrugged. “Um, hi? Nice to see you? I thought you’d left forever? Good you’re all still alive?”
Link took a few staggering steps back. “What’d ye do with my wee Rose? She was warm and knew how to set a man’s loins on fire with a crack of her smile.”
I stared up at him with a baleful look on my face. “Your loins? Really? That’s where we’re taking this conversation?”
Urien cleared his throat. “Manners, gentlemen. My daughter’s been unwell for too many weeks now. You’ll not trouble her with bar humor.”
Broken Girl: A Fantasy Adventure Based in French Folklore (Faite Falling Book 5) Page 6
