Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(23)

“How I wish I could go to the masque tonight!”

“I would give my body to dance with Prince Edward!”

“He's as gorgeous as the papers describe. It’s a pity that the princess is so plain. He could've done better.”

“If we cannot attend, at least we can watch. What do you think the emperor might dress up as? Do you think he would try for a lion as he did last year?”

“He might not be that daring at his wedding. Oh, I can’t wait to see the costumes they get up with. I heard Lady Helene is going to wear a hat three feet long.”

“How is she going to walk around without hitting people?”

“We have to go to the masque to find out.”

“But what about that woman His Grace brought back? He ordered us to guard her.”

“The door is locked and she can’t jump to her death. Don’t be such a worry wart, Marie.”

There is a pause. “Even if she can’t get out, what if His Grace returns and finds we’re all gone? Let’s draw lots and take turns watching over her.”

“Don't you think she looks really similar to Princess Katriona? Can she be her twin sister?”

“But why did His Grace lock her up? He cannot treat a royal guest this way.”

“Hush! Haven’t you heard of that story in the papers in Athelia?” The maid relates my court trial. Just as I expected--the Moryns know there’s a girl who accused the princess of identity theft. A princess going to court is something that hasn’t happened in hundreds of years. It’s bound to arouse foreign attention.

So there is going to be a ball tonight. That means Jér?me can’t come back until late night. Hopefully he will spend the night elsewhere in the arms of Salome, or whatever lady he hooks up with.

Suddenly, an idea takes hold of me. Is there any chance I can escape to this ball? If it’s a masque, then I can hide my face. I can find Edward and let him know I have arrived, without attracting public attention.

There is another sound of a door opening, and I hear the bolts on my door being drawn back. Without thinking, I resume my position by the window, and pretend to be startled when Jér?me enters the room.

“Ah, my pretty little Athelian,” he purrs. “I see you have been a good girl.” He looks around the room. “I thought you might have tried to damage the room. One of my previous mistresses had tried to burn the screen down, so I had to have her chained to the bed.” He catches a lock of my hair and twists it. “You have more sense. The Athelians usually do.”

I back away from him. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for the ball?”

He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t question how I know. “I wish I could take you as my partner, but obviously you know the reason I can’t. Besides, more women will come to me if I appear desolate and unattached. So I am afraid that you will have to spend the night dreaming of me. But fear not!” He runs a finger down my cheek, and I have an urge to bite his finger off. “I am not without compassion. You will not go without dinner. When I return, I expect you to serve me.” He grabs me and tries to kiss me, but I turn my head at the last moment, so his sloppy kiss lands on my cheek. This seems to enrage him, and he grabs my hair and forces another kiss on my lips. Since I can’t match his strength, I can only pretend that I am stone.

“Good little girl,” he purrs. “I look forward to a wild night with you when I return.”

The door shuts behind him. Tears prickle at my eyes, and I rush to the dresser. Using the jug of water provided, I scrub at my cheek, my lips, and I would have used soap if there was any available. If I see him again I'm gonna kill him, I don't care if I'm punished and thrown into jail.

My stomach growls loudly again; I sink on the floor, feeling weak and exhausted. It seems hours until the smell of food reaches my nostrils. Maybe this is going to be a chance. Maybe I could subdue one of the maids and force her to let me out.

A moment later, there is a scraping sound. To my surprise, a food tray is pushed through an opening in the door, as one might deliver a letter or a newspaper in a hotel room. The tray falls on the floor with a clutter, the plates on it clinking.

I rush towards the food before it rolls on the floor. Potatoes and beans—not my favorite, but at this moment they taste like heaven. And there’s a bowl of chicken-and-onion soup. Well, at least the Moryns are good cooks. I've never tasted anything so delicious, but then it could be attributed to my hunger.

When I finish, strength returns to my veins and I feel invigorated. I must get out.

“Hey,” I call. “I’m finished.”

There is the sound of footsteps—someone has come to retrieve the food tray from the other side of the door. My heart pounding, I grab the hand that reaches for the tray.

“Let me out,” I say in the most threatening tone I can manage. “Or I’ll break your wrist.”

The servant gasps. “You can’t do that.”

“Can’t I?” I grab her arm and yank it upwards. She lets out a cry of pain. “Now, if you don’t want your arm snapped in half, let me out.”





14





Kat





I sweep over the corridor in a new dress, a mask fitted over my face. After subduing the maid and ordering her to unlock and remove the bolts on the door, I set out dressing up for the ball. Jér?me would recognize me in the fairy dress. So I find a mask that covers most of my face, leaving just my eyes and mouth visible. I don a wig as well—fortunately it seems that wigs are fashionable, and I’m able to find a good-sized wig that can conceal my auburn hair under a mountain of raven black tresses. I also apply a load of makeup—so much that I could be performing on stage. The mask can conceal my face, but there might be an occasion I have to take it off, so it’s imperative I look as little like myself as possible. Using what cosmetics are available on the table, I draw and paint until I resemble a clown.