“You are quite bold, Your Highness,” I remarked. I knew I was not calling him Prince Kenton as he had requested, but I just couldn’t make the words come.
“And I suspect you are quite reserved,” he guessed.
I smiled. “I live a quiet life in my own little world.”
“Tell me about your world,” he whispered, scooting closer to me as if anticipating a marvelously fascinating story.
I was not expecting this. “For one thing, princes don’t hold my hand in my little world.” We laughed and I glanced down at our entwined hands, trying to grasp where I really was and who I was with. The prince reached out his other hand and seized my other hand too, as if to emphasize that I truly was in a very different world at the moment and that a prince was very willingly holding my hands. I wondered what he would think of my world and what he would do if he knew the hands he now held milked cows and plucked chickens. I decided I wasn’t ready to tell him or if I ever would be. “Perhaps you should tell me about yours first.”
He waved a hand carelessly through the air. “I’m sure you know all there is to know. Crowns, extravagant clothes, servants, expectations, traveling, diplomacy, balls.” He returned his hand to mine.
“Don’t you enjoy your life?” I was surprised I had asked such a forward question of a prince. Who was I to ask if he enjoyed his privileged life?
He didn’t seem to be bothered by my question or think me impertinent. “I suppose it would be dishonest to say that I don’t enjoy certain things about this life. But I can say that I definitely do not enjoy the monotony of it. I was born into this life and it’s all I’ve ever known, which is why I’m curious about your life. Are you going to tell me about it now?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled, indicating he had not been fooled by my evasiveness.
I looked away from the prince and back at the landscape. He didn’t seem to be in a rush, so I gave myself time to think. I didn’t know what to tell him, or how much, or why it even mattered. He was simply curious about how I, a commoner, lived. He was the one who had invited the villagers so he could see how the people in his kingdom lived their lives. I decided to tell him the truth.
I turned back to face him and opened my mouth to speak, but was silenced by the prince’s expression.
“I have traveled the world for most of my life.” He paused, struggling for words. “And I have never seen anyone or anything as beautiful as you.”
He raised his steady hand and placed it gently against my jaw, turning my face up to his. This was no awkward, half-drunk dance partner’s attempt at a kiss. This was the prince and I suspected he knew exactly what he was doing. I also suspected that he had never been refused. Until now.
“Your Highness,” I whispered. His eyes flew open in surprise, but his face stayed where it was, bewilderment and curiosity in his eyes. “You don’t even know me,” I said. “I hope you don’t think me rude, but no one has ever kissed me before and, well, I’m terrified.” I remembered what Will had said to me—that I was never his to kiss. Did all men feel that way? Was the prince claiming me with his kiss? I went on, feeling more confident. “I didn’t know that I was being brought up here to kiss a prince. And if this is some kind of test, I’m fairly certain that I just failed. Please forgive me.”
The prince listened to my speech, his face turning from slightly irritated, to confused, then to something that looked like astonishment. He dropped his hand and pulled back. “No, it is I who have failed. Yes, I wanted to meet you and get to know you, but I have forgotten myself. It is I who need to ask your forgiveness.”
“I doubt I’m in any position to forgive a prince,” I said, laughing nervously. But something he said had caught my attention. “Why did you want to meet me? There are dozens, hundreds, of women here. Why me?”
For the first time, the prince looked embarrassed. His one hand that still held mine gently dropped it in my lap and he went to stand at the balcony. I sat silently, watching from the bench, and waited for him to speak.
“I have been traveling the world for years now, searching for the next queen of this kingdom,” he said to the empty air. “I have met countless women and I have been deeply dissatisfied with all of them. There is a certain princess my parents want me to marry, but she is a horrible person. She is hateful and cruel and selfish and spoiled.”
For a moment I wondered if he was talking about Victoria and I was grateful he was turned away from me and couldn’t see my smile.
“But she is a princess and with our union, we would gain an ally in her kingdom.” He shook his head, apparently displeased with that reason for marrying someone. “The king and queen know how much I detest the woman they want me to marry, and honestly, they don’t like her much either—princess or not. So we came to an agreement that if I could find someone suitable to marry, someone who could someday be a queen, then I could marry that girl instead. She could be anyone I chose, from any walk of life. But,” he said, pausing, “according to our law, I have to marry her before my twenty-fifth birthday.”
“Isn’t your birthday coming soon?” I asked. I felt foolish for not knowing the exact date. I was sure we had some sort of celebration to mark his birthday each year, but I had never paid much attention.
He turned back around to face me. “Three days,” he replied, a sense of finality in his voice.
I tried not to gape at him. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but if you are supposed to be married in three days, why are you only now bringing women here to talk to them and meet them … and kiss them?” I grinned. “Or try to.”
He heard the smugness in my voice and laughed lightly. “I know it sounds terrible, and I promise I haven’t been trying to kiss every girl who has come to meet me.” He paused and smiled at me. “Just you. I guess you could say you swept me off my feet.” He looked down at me and returned to sit down next to me.
It still didn’t explain why I was brought here in the first place. Why weren’t all the women at the ball lined up and brought to him? “Why was I brought here?” I asked bluntly.
“You looked like a princess,” the prince said simply.
Chapter 22
I SURPRISED US BOTH BY THROWING MY HEAD BACK AND laughing out loud. “Because I looked like a princess?” I now knew the role that Sir Thomas had to play—to search the ball for the woman who looked like she could become the next queen. “I’m honored, Your Highness, but just because I look like a princess today doesn’t mean I look like this all the time. It wouldn’t be very practical. And just because someone thinks I might look like a princess doesn’t mean I would make a good one.” I took a breath and continued, “Why did you wait so long to look for a wife? Why didn’t you have the ball a year ago? Two years ago?” I had a dozen other questions but stopped myself. It was obvious the prince had never been spoken to that way, and I guessed by the astonished way he was staring at me, he wasn’t pleased about it. I ducked my head in shame.
He gaped at me for a moment. “Thank you,” he said abruptly, again clasping my hands in both of his. “That is the first time anyone has ever been completely open with me. That was exhilarating. But to answer your many questions: Yes, it does seem ridiculous waiting so long, but I suppose I didn’t really know what I wanted until recently. I’m bored with this life and living with people who have only known this life. It makes us spoiled and uninteresting. We only see what’s happening to us and we worry and talk about trivial things. That’s why I wanted to be able to marry anyone I wanted. A princess or a servant. A duchess or a dairy maid. I get so few choices in my life, and I wanted to make this one.”
I nodded in understanding. “I don’t blame you for wanting to choose who you marry, and I admire you for being willing to marry anyone. But if I may warn you, one can become quite spoiled in any sort of life.” I thought of Victoria and how she somehow demanded living a life of royalty even in the midst of our painfully obvious poverty. “Anyone could become bored and frustrated with their life if they haven’t figured out how to se
e the good in it.” I fell silent and took a breath and smiled, feeling a sense of clarity. “Your life and my life are not that different.” I ducked my head again, abruptly ashamed of what sounded like a chastisement of the prince.
“But is it a bad thing to want to improve your life or to seek for a better one?” he said, lifting my head up again with his finger under my chin.
I knew why he asked the question and I thought I knew the answer—until right then. Here I was at the palace, having escaped out of my own life for a night to see what it would be like to live another one. I didn’t think it was a bad thing, though I had struggled with my worthiness to even experience it. But now that I was here, I couldn’t say if one life was necessarily better than the other.
“No, there’s nothing wrong with seeking a different life, as long as that life will make you truly happy.” I smiled when I realized how simple the answer really was. “Different isn’t always better.”
The prince stared at me for so long, I wanted to drop my eyes, but I held them steady and looked back into his. He slowly shook his head back and forth as if in complete astonishment. He glanced down when something caught his eye.
“Look at that tiny slipper! And your tiny feet! I’ve never seen such tiny feet!” he cried.
“They were my mother’s,” I replied with a smile. “The slippers, I mean, not my feet. Well, maybe those, too.” I laughed.
“Please tell me about yourself,” the Prince pleaded. “How have I never seen you before tonight? I know I don’t spend much time out of the palace walls, but even so, I don’t know how someone like you could have possibly escaped my notice.”
His words stung me slightly and my pain gave me courage. “Actually, Your Highness, you have seen me twice before tonight, but I didn’t look like I do right now. You saw me in the square on the day you invited us all to the ball. You saw me from your carriage on Sunday as you drove by.”
Recognition was dawning on his face mingled with denial.
I sighed but with resolution. “I am a servant in my own home. I wear the same ragged dress every day. I don’t own a pair of gloves because I sold them all to pay for food to feed my stepmother, my stepsisters, and myself. We have also sold all of my father’s prized horses, most of the furniture, tapestries, vases, china, and animals. My bedroom is in the tallest tower so that I can be as far away from my stepmother as possible because if she sees me, she will find some fault with me, for which I will most likely be whipped. I wake before dawn and go to bed after dark, usually sleeping on the hearth because I’m too exhausted to climb up to my tower.
“My mother died shortly after I was born, and my father died when I was ten. The girl who I had thought was my closest friend turned me into a rival almost as soon as the ball was announced. She was the shy girl who you met right before me. I was forbidden to come tonight by my stepmother and she took every possible means to make it impossible for me to come.” I absently reached up to touch the twist at the nape of my neck. “And if she finds out I’m here, with you especially, I will be severely punished.”
My voice softened. “I have one true friend in the world, and that’s all I need.”
I paused, but the prince waited for me to continue.
“I love my home. It is a part of who I am. I love my cow, Lucy, and my chicken, Mary. I love my garden and taking care of it and watching things grow. I love the forest I can see out my window. I work hard to keep my home beautiful and clean, and I take joy and pride in my work. My body is strong and my hands are roughened with work. I can make meals out of nothing. I sweep and scrub and polish and dust. And I’m not ashamed of it. I have a purpose. I know who I am and why I do what I do.”
My eyes blazed as I spoke, not out of anger, but with an intensity I had never felt before. I had always known why I slaved in my house every day, but I had never spoken it out loud. I realized how much I truly wanted to do it. Not just because I had promised to and not just because everyone was depending on me, but because I loved it and it gave my life meaning.
While I spoke, it felt like I was talking more to myself than to the prince, reassuring myself that I had value that had nothing to do with what I was wearing.
I was so involved in my little speech that I didn’t realize the prince was staring back at me, his eyes troubled, his mouth slightly open, and his head slowly shaking back and forth.
“That couldn’t have been you I saw on the road that day. That girl was … dirty and sad. She … she had long hair.”
“Yes, I was dirty and sad that day. My hair was long, but it is now short because I had to sell it to buy back these things I’m wearing because they were stolen from me.”
He glanced up at my hair, completely baffled. “Sell it?” he whispered. It was as if he had never heard of such a thing. He reached up a hand to gently stroke my hair, then returned his hand to mine. “Well, don’t worry. It will grow again,” he said with a small smile.
I didn’t look away as the prince continued to study me—my face, my short hair, my bare hands, my dress, my slippers. I was caught off guard, though, when he placed both his hands on my neck and leaned in and kissed me. My eyes flew open in surprise. It didn’t matter that I had never kissed anyone before; I was in capable hands. He held me tight and my eyes closed and the world disappeared. I didn’t know what this kiss meant to him, and I didn’t get the chance to ask him.
He pulled back and his eyes were almost fiercely ardent. “I’ve only just met you, but I’ve never been more fascinated by anyone in my entire life. I can’t imagine marrying anyone else but you.” He brushed his lips across my cheek and next to my ear and whispered, “I love you.” He grasped a lock of hair that had had fallen loose and tucked it behind my ear. “I want you to be my bride. You’ll never have to work another day in your life. I want to give you everything: gowns, jewels, horses, carriages …” Something seemed to suddenly dawn on him and he laughed softly. “And I don’t even know your name.”
It took me longer than it should have for me to realize that this was when I was supposed to tell him my name. I was still in shock from just having been kissed for the first time, and by a prince, no less, and he had just said he loved me and wanted to marry me.
He placed a finger gently under my chin and leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Your name, beautiful lady?” He brushed his lips across my cheek.
My voice was caught in my throat. I would love to tell him my name, if I could only remember it.
But something didn’t feel right. My mind was fuzzy and I was terribly confused. I couldn’t even put into words what I was feeling and I was angry at myself for being so ridiculous. I looked back into the prince’s eyes as he waited patiently for me to answer.
He had just called me beautiful. He had just told me he loved me. What was wrong with me? Why did I feel like escaping?
I started to pull free of his hands. He looked down at our entwined hands with a look of utter disbelief.
“I’m sorry. I have to go,” I said, barely believing my own words, but feeling that they were the right ones.
Suddenly, the prince clasped my hands tighter just as they were about to slip free of his. He held me close and then his lips were at my ear. “I’m sorry I scared you. Please don’t go. I love you.” Those words again. They were beautiful words, but they felt so out of place.
I looked up into his perfect face, still reeling from this rapid turn of events. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I pulled free out of his hands and began to run as fast as I possibly could.
I felt his arms drop lifelessly to his sides once I was out of his grasp. He appeared to be as astonished as I was that I was running away from him as fast as my slippers would allow. Abruptly, he seemed to come to his senses.
“Stop her!” His voice rang through the empty garden from behind me. I heard his footsteps far in the distance, but I had a head start.
Somewhere in the flight, my glass slipper got caught in a wide crack in the stone and slipped off my foot
. I didn’t even pause as I ran into the night, my dress trailing behind me.
Chapter 23
I RACED OUT OF THE COURTYARD, THROUGH THE BALLROOM, into the palace, and out the enormous front doors. People looked at me with outrage as I pushed past them, but I kept running. I didn’t even care if Victoria saw me; I just had to get home. Once I was away from the prince, I probably would have felt safe to simply walk away from the palace, but the fact that I was being chased forced me to flee. Luckily, the guards I passed had no idea that they were supposed to be stopping me yet. They just exchanged looks of confusion, but it wouldn’t be long before they chased after me too. I fled down the great front steps and kept running until I reached the iron gate near the bottom of the hill. The guards opened it for me, trying not to show any emotion, but were unable to hide their bafflement as a girl without a carriage ran past them.
I only paused once as I slipped off my one slipper and grasped it tightly in my hand. I continued down the sloping hill of the palace and into the middle of town where I had first seen the prince. There wasn’t a soul in sight, but in the distance toward the castle I heard voices calling out, mingled with the sound of quick footsteps and horses’ hooves pounding the ground. I grabbed my skirts and held them up above my ankles so they wouldn’t slow me down, ignored the dirt road, and dashed into the woods that led more quickly, and discreetly, to home. I felt branches pull at my gown and rocks and twigs scrape my bare feet.
I didn’t know what was driving me forward more—the need to run away from the palace, or the need to be home. I couldn’t think about the prince. It was too confusing, too much to take in in such a short amount of time, too impossible to be true.
I burst through the trees, leaves and dirt stuck to the bottom of my bloody feet, and I did not stop running until I reached the front drive of Ashfield. It was then that I seemed to come back down to reality.
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