"Now she looks more like a princess," the queen says.
"Yes, though she still needs a great deal of work." the king adds.
I am too lost in watching Prince Harold smile at me adoringly to care much about what they're saying. "You look ravishing," he says in a dreamlike voice.
Suddenly the attention is taken away from me and Harold's family is staring at him like he's committed some terrible crime. I am too afraid to thank him.
"No one said you could speak," the queen snaps.
"Honestly, Mother, I don't know why you let him eat at the same table we do," Horris says.
Anger bubbles inside me at the way they're talking about him. I don't want to be there hearing it.
“We have no choice. It's tradition for the royal family to eat together every night," says the king.
Harold stares at his plate darkly and pokes his fork at his potatoes.
Queen Luciana turns the sneer she's fixed upon her obvious least favorite son on me. "This Sophia will eventually have to eat with us as well...Addy, I want her here tomorrow night. I expect her to be polished and refined for our meal."
"Yes, ma'am." Addy shepherds me out of the room.
My stomach growls to alert her of my hunger. I haven't eaten since this morning. She ignores it, though, and walks me straight back to my room.
The clicking of her heels against stone floor becomes a hammer beating against my ears. It's a relief when it stops outside my bedroom door.
"Get a good night's sleep," she tells me. "I will be here very early in the morning to begin your training." Her heels hammer away again as she leaves me behind.
When I open my door, I am surprised to find a plump little woman sitting on my bed, wearing a light blue bonnet that matches her eyes. She stands and I realize she's holding a golden-brown turkey leg in one hand. "Hello there." Her eyes crinkle when she smiles. "You must be Arabella."
"I was. Prince Horris said I am to be called Sophia now."
"Come now. Don't trouble me with all that nonsense. Harold said your name is Arabella."
"Harold told you that?" My heart fills with enough light to brighten the dark windowless room to my eyes.
"Yes, ma'am. We're both right happy to have a commoner marrying into the royal family. Perhaps things will finally get better around here."
"He said that, as well?"
"Mm-hm. I'm Cherish. My job 'round here is to look after Harold, and has been since the day he was born...This is for you, miss." She crosses the room to hand me the turkey leg and rest her hands on my arm. "Come on in then. Sit down; sit down."
I hope the meat isn't smearing my makeup when I bite into it as we sit on my bedside.
"Harold asked me to make sure you didn't go hungry tonight. Oh bless his soul, always thinking of others."
I swallow my half-chewed food before answering. "He does seem kind. But what do you mean having a commoner in the family could make things better?"
"Oh, it's just rotten the way they're always treating Harold. Between you and me, he was born with a foot deformity that's made him an undesirable embarrassment in his parents’ eyes. Only makes him more special in mine, though."
My curiosity is peaked. The only person I've ever known to have a deformity is a little girl who lives near my home in my village. She was born missing half of one of her arms. The skin on the rest of it is covered with uneven balls of skin. I've always found it absolutely fascinating. “What sort of deformity?"
"His right foot’s missing a whole slice of flesh down the middle. It’s never held him back, though. If anything, the experience with his family has been a blessing. He’s been humbled and spared growing up to be a spoiled pain in the rear end.”
We both laugh at this and then sit in silence for a little while as I eat.
I can’t help but imagine Harold’s face when he mentioned me to Cherish. It’s mesmeric as he speaks, thinking of me. I know I shouldn’t allow such thoughts to cross my mine, but it is difficult when considering him against his brother.
“Oh my.” Cherish leans forward and giggles into her apron when she looks over at me, then uses it to wipe my face off. “You’re such a mess.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t see how it’s possible to eat this without making a mess.”
“Nothing to apologize for, Miss Arabella. I don’t want you to change one bloomin’ thing for me. I am certain you’re perfect just the way you are.”
My eyes tear up as I hug her. The day has been almost as terrible as it has been wonderful. Being chosen to be the future queen is far more than I have ever dreamed of, but marrying into a family that despises me and to such a despicable man is absolute agony. “Thank you, Cherish. You can’t imagine what that means to me. I wish you were the one teaching me to be refined tomorrow instead of Addy.”
“As do I, but Addy has a great deal more experience with that sort of thing.”
Cherish stands nervously when my bedroom door opens unexpectedly. “Oh,” She lets out a gusty breath, looking relieved. “It’s only you, Harold.”
“I see you’ve taken care of our guest,” Harold says, stepping into the room. “Thank you, Cherish.”
“Of course, darling.”
“Arabella, perhaps when you’ve finished eating you wouldn’t mind taking a walk with me.”
“I’m finished,” I say, standing up, though it’s an outright lie.
Cherish reaches under her bonnet and retrieves a purple handkerchief. “Well now, you’ve hardly gotten halfway through this.” She takes the turkey leg from me to wrap it up before setting it on top of my bed. “Best save it for when you return in case you’re hungry then.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Arabella.” She gives me a hug. “See you tomorrow.”
I want to ask when I’ll see her tomorrow, but hesitate because Prince Harold is making me so nervous.
He holds out an arm for me as she leaves. I cross the room and rest my hand inside his elbow, allowing him to lead me into the corridor. We walk in silence to the exiting door at the end of the long hallway.
On the other side, the moon illuminates a stone pathway surrounded by pansies I imagine are dark blue. It’s too dark to be sure.
“What do you think of royal life so far?” Harold asks as we begin our outside night-walk.
“I think it’s lovely.” Another outright lie. But I am not brave enough to tell him what I really think of it.
“I’m sorry my family is so cruel.”
“Thank you, Prince Harold. You have certainly made up for it with your kind-heartedness.”
“Please, just call me Harold…I was surprised but pleased when my brother said he would be marrying a commoner. Not that I take any joy in your suffering, but it will be nice to have someone to share the rank of family outcast with. I have been hoping to find a best friend in whomever my brother chooses since he made that announcement. Would you consider doing this for me?”
“I would be honored if you do not think Prince Horris will mind.”
“Ah Horrid, I imagine he could care less what you or I do as long as you become the sort of wife he has envisioned. I, on the other hand, will never know of such happiness. My parents have forbidden me from marrying. They are too afraid my offspring will be like me.”
My anger begins to bubble. I must say something in his defense. “How preposterous. They created you, after all. And they should be proud of any children you father.”
He rests his hand over mine inside his elbow. “Thank you for saying so.”
I see a dark unnatural light flickering to the right of the wide pebbly pathway up ahead. "Is that a fire?" I ask.
"Yes, of sorts I assume. That'll be Sir Vincent Clay. He’s a reputable botanist who’s always performing experiments out here which he believes will please my father. The king is obsessed with scientific discoveries—Would you like to go have a look?”
“Yes, please.” I’m not entirely sure what a botanist is, but it sounds interesting.
The closer we get, the stronger a sour smoky smell becomes. I feel a bit queasy as we approach the shriveled old man with wild wiry white hair who sort of resembles a rotting potato. The table in front of him is laid with large vials, a mysterious-looking fizzling fire burning underneath each one. Cracked glass bowls hold fresh sprouts on the side of the table. Sir Vincent Clay holds a clear vial over a tube that’s filled with a thick dark liquid. Smoke leaves the vial when a drop falls from it into the murky substance below, which instantly begins to bubble. He seems to be completely unaware of us.
“Good eveni—” Harold begins, but is cut off when Vincent jerks back, dropping the vial and spilling its contents all over the table. Most of it ends up in the black fluids below. The glass shatters as smoke fills the air. The smell is so rancid, I’m forced to cover the bottom half of my face with my hand and retreat several steps back.
“Good heavens, Vincent,” Harold says. “What is that?”
“Never mind that now,” Vincent says, a hint of frustration in his voice. “You probably shouldn’t be breathing this in. I would advise you both to leave the courtyard at once.”
“What about you?”
“It is a risk all true scientists must take. And this mess must be cleaned up immediately.”
Harold nods, putting one hand over his nose and the other on my back. We retrace our steps to the long hallway, the feelings of being lightheaded and drowsy weighing heavily against my head. It lingers as we enter the castle. Harold stumbles and I am certain he is experiencing the same affects.
“Perhaps I should return you to your room now,” he says. “I suddenly feel the need to lie down.”
I don’t bother to respond. My head is spinning and I’m beginning to enjoy the feeling of it.
Harold’s hand slides to my side as we walk. My attraction to the man beside me intensifies.
By the time we reach my room, I feel completely at ease and free to ask the question I’ve been too afraid to ask until this moment. I turn to face him first. “May I see your foot?”
His body stiffens, then visibly relaxes as he leans against the wall. “Cherish told you?” he asks with a yawn.
“She did. I assure you I adore such, such—” I have to yawn as I lean against the wall right in front of him. I rest my hand on his cheek a bit clumsily. “What I mean to say is I admire something so rare.”
He rests a hand over mine and smiles. His eyes seem heavy as he nods and leans over to remove his buckled shoe and stocking.
My eyes open wide and I feel more awake for a few moments. The coloring and shape of his foot are nothing extraordinary. But in the center, it looks like someone began on either side of his middle toe with a knife & cut a thin pie-slice out of his foot nearly to his ankle. As the sleepiness returns I kneel and reach out to touch it, running my fingers along the inside of his foot. I feel the beating of his heart as I trace the bone I can feel through his skin. The sensation of touching such a precious and uncommon thing is one of bliss and exhilaration, making me feel more alert and slightly self-conscious until I stand. I’m suddenly so tired, I nearly fall into Harold. He grips my shoulders and helps me steady myself.
“Thank you,” I say, standing nearly against him. “I think your foot is wonderful and absolutely perfect.”
He raises an eyebrow that slowly begins to droop back to where it was. “I wish I was the one to be marrying you instead of my brother, Arabella.”
“As do I.”
He smiles and lets the hands he still holds onto my shoulders with slide up to my neck. As he leans forward to take the kiss I’ve saved my entire life for the man I will marry, all I can think of is the bitterness of the wish we both share. His shiny brown hair falls over his eyes and into my face as his tender lips press against mine. I let myself fall in love with his kind heart and can’t bring myself to care about the wrongness of what we’re doing.
I feel like I’m floating, drifting into slumber, and then falling back onto a cloud.
“Arabella!” Harold’s voice brings me back to reality.
My eyes snap open and I realize I really am falling back. Harold struggles to stop me and begins to fall over too. My back slams into the ground, but I hardly feel it. Then Harold lands on top of me and I only feel passion.
“Are you all right?” he asks, placing a hand behind my head to hold it up.
I nod, feeling a fit of giggles coming on. The great fall is so hilarious to me for some reason; I can’t help but burst into laughter. Harold smiles and laughs along as we sit up together. The laughter splits my dress at the side, making everything seem even funnier. We continue laughing much too loud through our struggle to stand. Harold wipes a tear from his eye and opens my door. “P, perhaps it would be best if I left you to rest for now.”
We’re both still laughing, but I walk into my room, feeling the allure of my bed calling to my half-asleep body. The floating sensation returns as I cross my room.
“Good night, Arabella,” Harold’s distant voice drifts to me as I fall into the beautiful blue clouds my bed is becoming and let them carry me away from all my worries and cares.