Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(80)
“Kat?” Elle says, an earnest look in her limpid blue eyes. “I’ll be all alone in my stall, and if you haven’t anything planned, I’d love to have your company.”
It’s not like I can hide from the queen forever.
“Um. In that case, sure.”
* * *
I clench my handkerchief and squeeze it between my fingers. I’m in the beautifully decorated arcade, filled with various handmade goods and snacks. A kaleidoscope of colors from flowers and trinkets, savory smells of meat pies and fried oysters, and there is the constant rustle of silk and velvet from brocaded dresses, for the bazaar is one rare public event organized and populated by a majority of women.
It would have been fun if it weren’t for my awkward identity. Everyone knows I’m a commoner, the granddaughter of a bookstore owner, but on the other hand, Edward has proclaimed in High Court that he wants to marry me. Many ladies are whispering behind my back, as if I were a chimpanzee escaped from the zoo.
Oh well. This isn’t the first time I’ve been the focal point of interest. As long as I’m connected to the prince of Athelia, I can give up any idea of staying anonymous.
At Elle’s stall, we have several dozen bouquets from Edward’s garden. They’re lovely, each of them wrapped in silver tissue, with a tag printed in gold letters, HRH Edward. I recognize one bouquet of gorgeous roses the size of my fist. When Edward was courting me, he had gifted me the same species from his garden, and I had worn them in my hair. At that time, I was racking my brains trying to get Elle and Edward together. Never did I expect that I’d end up marrying Edward myself.
A hush falls over the arcade. A middle-aged woman has arrived, dressed in a simple but elegant gown of navy blue velvet, and a gold pendant glistening in the hollow of her throat. Two young women follow her, dressed in dark gowns that resemble Amelie and Mabel’s uniforms.
Queen Isolde. I bite my lip, trying to remain calm. For over a year I had dined with her, accompanied her to various social events that would eventually be my duties when I become queen.
Everyone goes silent when the queen heads to the center front of the arcade, where a wide red carpet is rolled out, flanked by the stalls.
“Good morning.” The queen’s gaze roves over the stalls; it rests on my face for a long second. I don’t know what I should do—nod, wave, or curtsy? But then she looks away and continues to speak. “Thank you for participating in the bazaar. Many of you are well aware of the blizzard this winter, which led to serious food shortage that has plagued our country for weeks. Dozens have died from the cold, many more have starved due to the frost that harmed our crops. Therefore, I would like to use this chance to call your attention to the objective of the bazaar this year. All proceeds shall go to importing grain from Moryn. We plan to distribute loaves of bread at various points in the city. Therefore, ladies, I encourage you to open your purses and support us in this cause.”
A polite applause follows the end of her speech. The queen starts down the carpet, looking over the wares and offering courteous words to the fairgivers. I observe there’s an unspoken custom—it is only after the queen has talked to a fairgiver that the latter dares to leave her stall and interact with others. So Elle and I do the same; we stand, almost rod-straight, waiting for our turn so that one of us can buy stuff from other stalls.
Elle squeezes my hand. “It’s all right,” she whispers. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Katherine Wilson.”
I whirl around. The queen stands behind me, a gracious smile on her face. The kind of ceremonial smile that Edward wears when he meets with important guests and foreign ambassadors. I can’t discern what’s going on in her mind.
Get a grip, Kat.
“Your Majesty.” I start to sink into a curtsy, but she stops me.
“How have you been?”
“Fi…fine, Your Majesty. Just great.” Just great? Real smooth, Kat.
“I see that Lady Elle has extended you an invitation,” the queen says, glancing at Elle. “Those flowers must be from Edward’s garden.”
Elle curtsies. “His Highness has always been kind.”
“Only when he chooses to.” The queen directs her attention back to me. “Kat has been the main recipient of his kindness. Especially considering the events that have transpired recently.”
I swallow. Does she think that Edward has gone overboard with his behavior with me? Wait…did she call me Kat, not Katherine?
The queen holds up her hand, in a magnanimous angle I’ve learned from my princess lessons. “Walk with me, Kat. Next year this is going to be your job.”
My jaw drops low. It can’t be…
“Come along, dear.” The queen is smiling—this time it’s a friendly, affectionate smile. Edward’s words come back to my mind: “She genuinely loves you. As do I.” Relief washes over me. Queen Isolde isn’t holding a grudge against me; she’s willing to welcome me back to the royal family.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” I hurry to keep in pace with her. Heads turn, all eyes are on us, and a murmur runs through the crowd. For that moment I could cry. In one simple gesture, the queen has demonstrated that she has accepted me. The ladies who had greeted me with awkward, tense smiles, are now genuinely respectful as they nod at me and curtsy to the queen.