When we finish our task, he quickly takes my hand, kisses the back of it, and then hurries away.
“You’d better be careful,” Ruston says from behind me, where he’s sitting on his chair. “Birdon’s getting attached to you.”
“He’s a very sweet man,” I say. I give Ruston a teasing look. “But don’t fret about his heart. He knows Prince Rion is my intended.”
Ruston rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe he thinks you’re serious. The Queen wouldn’t let you or any Maruli marry her precious son. After King Maru died, and even before he did, she started hating the Maruli, and it’s only gotten worse. I heard she tried to give a memorial for the Princess, and she had to leave because she was unable to contain herself.”
“She was upset?” I ask.
“No.” Ruston snorts. “She was too happy. It was a little disruptive for what was supposed to be a funeral. She knew she didn’t look good.”
“I’m sure she looked good,” I say, thinking of all her regal robes and her rigorous beauty regime from her shaman witch.
“She just gets uglier every time I see her,” Ruston says, which makes me laugh.
Ruston is surprised by my reaction, and it’s encouraging to me when he stares at me. It reminds me of the time he allowed me to become his assistant in Drusilla’s house. His expression is one of world-weary wonder, as if he’s forgotten what it is to have fun and be free in this world.
I use the fireplace poker to stir the fire again. “Have you seen her lately? The Queen, I mean.”
“She came down to the office at the docks herself the other day,” he tells me. “She is trying to clean up the port now that Prince Rion’s new bride is supposedly coming.”
“New bride?”
His words hit me hard, and I feel as though my heart is being squeezed to a stop. Nothing improves as Ruston tells me the Princess of Celtia and her household are expected to come shortly, so the Queen can prepare a wedding for her son.
“She probably doesn’t want him to argue with her,” Ruston says. “Makes sense to me, considering he likely went around her to orchestrate his own engagement to Princess Ebony. It wouldn’t have happened any other way. I’ll say that for the Prince. He must’ve fooled her good for the Queen to be this happy.”
“He did,” I say. My voice is still and small, and my breathing constricts.
“The world has never had a welcoming history of two people trying to mesh their tribes,” Ruston says. “Look at Mopana and Marula. They are neighbors on the same continent, but they can’t even get along without fighting. And there’s the Baobabi, and the other nations nearby. What makes anyone think that the Maruli and the Pommierians can successfully mix together?”
Ruston doesn’t see the tears falling down my face, and he fails to realize how much he is hurting me. He is a product of a union between a Pommierian and a Maruli man, and he’s saying these things. How can this be?
That is it; I need to get out of the house, and fast. “Excuse me.”
Ruston blinks as I hurriedly stand up and head out; perhaps he’s shocked I was listening at all, or perhaps he might even be sorry I’ve left. I can’t seem to care much either way.
All I want is the starlight.
The nighttime envelopes me like a cloak of despair as I step outside, and I find my way to the front of the house. It seems more than appropriate I almost stumble over the “Joy,” the gravestone that’s becoming buried more each day by the last remnants of the fallen leaves.
At that, I sit down and allow myself to cry.
Rion is gone, my future is gone. My heart is broken and my body is worn out. I don’t know if I have the power to keep hoping that things will turn around, especially while Queen Varyes reins, and she has won.
If anyone were to ask me, I would have said there is plenty to cry over. Even the stars seem to agree with me; they are hidden behind a broken batch of clouds, and even the ones I can see don’t want to shine for me.
The song I long to hear has gone silent, and all I can do is sit there. My heart is broken, and so am I.
Some time passes before I hear footsteps beside me, and a hand brushes over my forehead.
Prudence.
“What’s troubling you, dear?”
“Nothing.” I wipe my eyes with my arm, and then try to hide my sadness.
Prudence, like any good mother, is not fooled by my assertion.
“Tell me,” she says, taking my hand.
It takes me a few moments, but I finally admit what is bothering me.
“I’m worried for the future,” I say.
“The future is a tricky thing,” Prudence says. “You don’t actually know what it is you’re worried about, do you?”
“No, I guess not.” I try to give her a smile, but she shakes her head.
“There’s no need to patronize me,” she says, before she puts her hand on the stone beside me. “But if you’re worried about the future, my best advice is to think about the past.”
“The past?”
“This is my daughter, Joy,” Prudence says. “She was born before Dommier, just after Vagarey.”
I listen as Prudence tells me about her daughter. I’ve always seen my grief from my own perspective; I’ve been a daughter who’s lost her mother, and I never think of how a mother might feel in losing her daughter.
“I loved her with every ounce of my being, but we both know that’s not always enough,” Prudence says. “She got sick one day, and there wasn’t a doctor around to help. Her fever grew, and I was frantically trying to do everything I could. I gave her some salts for her stomach.”
Prudence’s voice breaks a little as she tells me that her daughter’s appendix had ruptured, and it had been the salts that ended up killing her.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“Me, too,” Prudence says. “Ruston saw the whole thing, and I think he still carries her loss.”
“I’ve noticed his dedication.”
“Because of him, though, so many of the children who live around us have been helped, and so many others have lived, too,” Prudence says. “I’m not happy over her fate, but Joy has managed to bless so many people with her life. She is still here, and because of that, she has a future with us.”
I feel bad, because I know she’s trying to help. But part of me wants to point out that Joy isn’t the one who has to worry about her future anymore.
Prudence reaches down now and hugs me. “I’ve seen how you take care of my family for me,” she says. “The world is hostile to love, Ebony, but while you’re here, you will always find it.”
She gives me a pointed look. “And that means you should take care of yourself, too.”
I blush a little, realizing she has been watching me work.
“Thank you for giving me your trust,” I say. “This isn’t the home I’d pictured for myself, but I am glad Ruston brought me here.”
Prudence tightens herself around me. “There is no place here for any of us, Ebony,” she says. “When God cast Adam and Eve out of Eden, he gave them clothes, but not a house. But they made a home—with each other, with their children. The future is built minute by minute, and it can be destroyed in seconds. You don’t need to find your place. You need to make it, and you need to make it strong so it will last.”
She looks out into the night, sitting beside me. “If my marriage and family have taught me nothing else, it’s that family is the home we make while we are here, and that love can give us great power to shoulder things we think are unbearable.”
Her hand, wrinkled, with its paperlike skin and weak grip, reaches out and takes hold of mine. “I enjoy having you as part of my family.”
“Mother, what are you doing out here?” Ruston’s voice calls out sharply from the doorway. “Ebony, you should know better than to let her do this. She’ll catch a cold.”
“Oh, Ruston,” Prudence says with a laugh. “Why should I only try to catch one cold? Perhaps I’d like a collection, hmm?”
>
Ruston frowns while I hold back a giggle. Prudence and I head back inside while he continues to berate both of us.
Once Prudence is back in her room and tucked into her covers, I head back out to the living room, where Ruston is back to sitting in his favorite chair.
“She’s back in bed?” he asks.
“Yes.” I should apologize to Ruston, and I tell him so. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t realize she’d followed me out of the house. I will be sure to return her sooner in the future.”
Ruston nods. “See that you do. She would be upset if you got worried for her, if she were to get sick.”
“I can believe that,” I agree, thinking of her kindness to me.
“She was coughing last night.” Ruston doesn’t look at me. “Much harder than usual. I stayed up with her for a few hours.”
“I didn’t hear her. I’m sorry.” I am just about to assure him I will listen for her tonight when he reaches over and grabs his bag.
“That reminds me,” he says. “Here.”
He holds out a flower to me, a dark red flower with a golden center. There’s a brisk smell to the petals, which are slightly smooshed from being in Ruston’s bag.
“It’s lovely,” I say. “Thank you.”
Ruston looks over at me. His face remains stubbornly stoic, but I wonder if he finally respects me, if he’s grown to accept me as part of his family as his mother has.
He finally turns away a moment later, and I smile. If he does accept me, I doubt Ruston would say so. I know he is not comfortable with the softer emotions. He has to be prepared night and day to tell the worst news to his patients and their families.
I clear my throat. “Well, I am going to head up to bed—”
“Do you like being my assistant?” Ruston asks abruptly. “Verna’s said you’re a big help here, and the others seem to like you, too.”
“I do like helping here,” I reply. “I’m not sure I would say I’m your assistant, though. I don’t really help you, after all.”
“Don’t say that.” Ruston sniffs. “You help me a great deal.”
I flush with pride. “Well, the feeling is mutual. I can’t thank you enough for saving me that day we met, down at the port.”
“Yes, um .... well. You’re welcome.”
As I fiddle with the flower’s petals, I get the feeling Ruston is not comfortable with being thanked. From his bouts and the information I’d heard about some of his work, I suppose it is just as hard to give the bad news to a patient as it is to hear the patient’s family blame you for what happens.
“Would you like to go with me down to the port tomorrow?”
I look up in surprise. “Sure. I’d be happy to go with you. If you think that’ll be fine, for your mother and the others.”
“They can let me have a day with you,” Ruston says. He leans back in his chair. “Miss Drusilla and Louisa have been wanting a follow-up appointment, and they are more comfortable with a woman present.”
I laugh. “I suppose they have a point.”
“You have enough experience with my mother that you should be able to handle it.”
“Yes, Ruston.” I smile and look down at the flower again.
“Be ready to go in the morning.” He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Good night.”
As I head to my room, excited about the new adventure, I realize that Prudence is right, and maybe Rion was right about me, too. I do have power—the power to make a house into a home, and that’s what I have been making here with the Bonpette family.
And that’s why I can’t give up on Rion just yet. He’d managed to find a way to betroth himself to me before, and I know he’ll come back for me this time. And when he comes back, I will be able to rule with pride and certainty because of his love, but also because of my own love, too.
*25*
Ebony
THE MORNING COMES QUICKER than I think, and part of that is because tonight I can hear Prudence coughing in her bedroom. I can also hear Ruston moving around, but the one time I peek in to see if he needs any help, he shakes his head.
He doesn’t want to say that he’s worried for her, and I know Ruston well enough after all these weeks to see he doesn’t want to seem weak in front of me.
It is, after all, hard enough for Ruston to admit it to himself.
Hours pass while I lie on my small cot, falling in and out of sleep while Prudence struggles with her health.
By the time the sun peeks up from the horizon, I wonder if Ruston will postpone our trip to Pommier’s port, but later on, I see him come out of her room and he tells me to get dressed in better clothes.
We walk back toward the busy port in silence, but this time, Ruston walks beside me, and I take comfort in his closeness. I don’t know what would happen with my future, but Prudence was right. God has always given me a light in the past, and he has given me several now in the Bonpette family. I can also see more clearly than ever that I am one of his lights, and it is my job to shine into the darkness.
“Oh, Miss, it’s wonderful to see you again.” Drucilla is up and moving this time. She seems much more spritely than the last time I saw her, about a month ago. “Dr. Bonpette is a nice man, but it’s always a relief to be in the company of someone who knows how to properly make tea.”
“I happen to agree,” I say with a chuckle. “But Ruston seems to know so much about medicine, I think it’s only fair we allow him a shortcoming in this area.”
Louisa chokes back a snicker as she looks at me. She is still a little standoffish, but from what Ruston’s told me, she is not comfortable with Maruli people in general. I don’t take it personally. I know very little of the pain that Ruston and his family have experienced, considering all the time I’ve been in the palace, but I also know that I wouldn’t be able to change Louisa’s mind or set her at ease if I stepped back from her. It is my job to be forgiving to others, even if they don’t know what they do.
“More tea, Miss Louisa?” I ask, holding out the fresh pot.
“Yes, thank you.” Her voice is calculated and somewhat strained, but Ruston has finished his examination of both her and her sister. We will be leaving soon.
“You know,” Louisa says after a moment. “You look very familiar to me.”
Ruston appears in the doorway to the living room. “I’ve made a bit of a mess in your washroom, Miss Louisa,” he says. “Some of the peppermint oil has spilled.”
“You know,” Drucilla says, “Louisa is right. You look a lot like Princess Ebony, King Maru’s daughter.”
I blush. “Thank you,” I say. It’s hard for me to keep it to myself, that I am the Princess, but I know these women wouldn’t appreciate it. They have been sick while I am here, and they would either be embarrassed that I showed up at all in their house, or they would hate it that a Maruli like me had deceived them in some way.
Ruston clears his throat. “Miss Ebony?” he says. “I need you to clean up in the washroom for me.”
I nod. “Sure.”
I put down the tea and listen as the women begin to talk of Prince Rion, and the news of Maruli now that I was supposedly dead and not able to marry him.
I try not to let it bother me, but I still strain my ears as I walk into the small bathroom just down the hall. I see the mess and work to clean it.
It takes me a moment, as I am wiping the remnants of the oil, to realize I am standing in front of a mirror.
I look at my reflection carefully, wondering if I still look like my old self. There are no mirrors in Ruston’s house; Prudence once explained to me that mirrors only showed what we looked like, and that was not a true assessment of who we were or what we were capable of. She then also told me she hated to see how her own reflection seemed to deteriorate every time she looked at it, so eventually she just had Verna sell them down at the market.
While I appreciated Prudence’s take, I am glad to see myself again; it’s a relief to see I haven’t worked myself into ruins. I touch my fac
e on the mirror, and then I smile.
“Hello again,” I tell myself.
I am not expecting an answer, but Vi’s face appears a second later.
“Miss Ebony!” she gasps. “It’s you!”
“Vi!”
“I didn’t believe it when I felt your summons,” she says.
“Oh, Vi.” I reach out and hug the mirror. Apparently, I am still recognizable as myself, I think with a laugh. “It’s you!”
“Where have you been?” Viola asks, before she shakes her wispy face. “No, no, actually, don’t tell me. I don’t want her to find out where you are.”
“The Queen?”
Vi frantically nods. “Shhh ... I’m not allowed to lie to her,” she reminds me. “I’m not allowed to lie to you, but at least you allow me to remain silent if I wish.”
“Oh, Vi. I’m sorry,” I say, putting my hand up on her cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“You never do,” Vi assures me. “But Horatio has enjoyed lording it over me, since my status has been lowered since your death.”
“I’ve never liked Horatio,” I mutter, thinking of how unkind I knew him to be.
“He’s not all bad,” Vi says with a sigh. “Or at least, he didn’t use to be. He was always very kind to his mother as a child, and I know she misses him more than life itself.”
I look carefully at Vi, who looks away.
“It’s just more terrible I have to deal with his awful side since I’ve been reassigned.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I’ve been given to the Queen’s advisor, Enri,” she says. “He’s a horrid man. He was bragging about killing you. And his brother is no better. He was also quite enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. Horatio enjoys checking in on me to make sure I know what they’re up to.”
It seems like a lifetime has passed since Enri and Alfonse attacked me and thought I’d drowned to death. I have trouble picturing that day of my life, as if I’d blocked it out to keep myself from remembering that dark pit of despair and hopelessness.
“Well, I’m safe now,” I say, remembering Prudence and Ruston and the other Bonpette family members who’d welcomed me into their home.
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