Rich Girl

by Mary E. Twomey

  My mouth drew to the side when two men came into the room and put fresh sheets on the bed. They spread atop them a lush satin comforter that looked to be at least five inches thick. It was then I realized that I had not seen a single woman apart from my mother in the castle thus far.

  Demi lifted his head to give me a demure nod, blasting me with a full view of his beautiful face. I suddenly remembered being told that my mother populated her castle with the best-looking men in Avalon, sometimes taking them forcefully from their homes so she could have something pretty to look at. I nearly choked on regular oxygen when I took in all of Demi. He had long black lashes framing startlingly bright green eyes. He had the perfect soccer player’s build – muscular, but not too bulky. He was a good five inches taller than me, but the subservient tilt to his head made him seem not too towering. His sharp, high model-like cheekbones played nicely with the peak in his left ear. He looked fairy-ish, and too handsome to be real. Ian Somerhalder, in the flesh. I’d admired the elite like him from afar in my classes, but was always way too shy to speak a word to them (not that the hot guys ever looked my way with anything other than a grimace).

  When Demi picked up the comb and advanced toward me, I held my hands up and took a step back. “Hold up a second. Are you… Is he going to brush my hair?”

  Demi shot Rigs a look of confusion, silently asking why I was being a dork. Rigs held his hand out to me like a gentleman. He sat me on his chair that had been pulled out from the circular wooden table near the center of the room. “Yes, your grace. Demi will see to your personal needs. He’s your soumettre. Anything you wish. He’ll brush your hair, shine your shoes, help you dress, warm your bed, see to your meals, escort you around the castle, and do whatever you wish.”

  My eyebrows pulled together. “Um, okay. Sorry if this sounds rude, but shouldn’t a girl help me if I have trouble getting dressed?”

  “Are you displeased with me, your highness?” Demi asked, his head bowed and shoulders downcast in defeat. Actual defeat. It was the first thing he’d said to me, and we were already off on the wrong foot. I knew I’d been right in never venturing a try at conversations with the hotties in school. I was screwing it up all over the place.

  I scrambled to cover my unintentional faux-pas. “No! Nothing like that at all. It’s just that where I’m from, it would be weird for a dude to help a girl he doesn’t know get dressed. And no man’s ever brushed my hair before. That seems a little bananas in my mind.”

  Rigs nodded in understanding, clicking his fingers for Demi to get started on my hair. The comb was gentle as Demi worked meticulously to unfurl my tangles that hadn’t seen the business end of a brush in weeks. Best of luck to the new guy. It kept him situated behind me, though, which was a good thing, since he was too pretty to look at directly. He made me nervous, and I hoped he would leave just as soon as the arduous task of tending to my hair was finished. I pulled my knees up and hugged them to my chest, resting my bare heels on the edge of the seat. I bit at my nails anxiously, hoping my cheeks weren’t noticeably red.

  Rigs’ voice was kind, like a friendly tour guide through a museum where everything was slightly different than it should be. “The other provinces employ female servants, as well as men, but her majesty most high prefers only men in her castle to do her bidding. Other women get jealous of her majesty most high’s beauty. You’re the first woman to live here with her.”

  I blinked up at Rigs and took in the tightness in his green eyes. His words started to settle in, and I poked behind the hidden meaning there. Morgan wanted her pick of the men in the land, since my father was incapacitated. “I see. Um, well it’s nice to meet you, Demi. I’m Rosie, and this is going to be the easiest job you’ll ever have, I hope.”

  “Nothing is too difficult for me to handle, your grace. I assure you, I’m at your beck and call. Don’t be afraid to put me to the test.” It was nice to hear his voice. Demi’s cadence was gentle, and his voice pleasant and kind with a hint of richness to it, like a radio DJ on a jazz station.

  “Well, you’ve got your work cut out for you with my hair. Been on the road since I got into Avalon. Sorry about that.”

  I picked up the pencil and, though I desperately didn’t want to ask for help, I couldn’t write a letter without Judah or someone to read it over to make sure it made sense. I pursed my lips and hoped they couldn’t see my inner turmoil start to roil in my gut. I didn’t want them to know I couldn’t write a letter without help.

  “Um, I’m real sorry to ask. You’re being so nice already, Demi. Would you mind taking a break from sorting out my hair to write a letter for me? We don’t have quills where I’m from, so I don’t totally feel comfortable using them.” My nerves calmed at the totally logical reason even I bought. Hopefully they wouldn’t know that I was a hardcore dyslexic.

  “Of course, your majesty.” Demi set down the comb and picked up the quill, awaiting my instructions.

  I hoped he didn’t know I was stupid.

  I dictated a quick, coded note to Lane, letting her know that I was safe, that Morgan was disappointed that my Compass ability had faded during my time in Common (total lie to make sure she knew the party line). I tried to keep my whining to a minimum when I wrote that I missed her terribly, that I loved her, and to wait until the big party to see me again.

  Being introduced to the woman who gave birth to me had been a hard smack to take. I wished Lane’s sweetness and fun were around to take the edge off. She would get how weird all of this was.

  I also put in a few lines to Draper, telling him to please come to the grand unveiling or whatever, so that I could see him again. I’d only just got him in my life; I didn’t like him gone so easily.

  The second note was written with much careful wording to Reyn.

  Dear Reyn,

  I hope you’re well, though I’ve heard from my new mother that you were not treated kindly in Province 1. I’m so very sorry, and I hope to visit you soon to see if you need help.

  I swallowed and tried to keep my chin steady and my face composed.

  I’m returning your hermit crab to you in the state he came to me. I wish him all the best in the long life he’ll have with you, far from me. I guessed “hermit crab” was a decent code name for Bastien.

  “I think that should do it. Thanks, man.” I handed him a fist bump, but he looked at my hand in confusion, unsure what to do with it. I molded his hand into a fist and mashed it to mine. “Like that. It means we’re awesome.” I was extra nervous around him, and it didn’t help that I couldn’t remember the simplest thing – that we were from two different worlds.

  “Oh. Yes, your majesty. Thank you. I’ll have these sent out tonight, if you wish. The journey to Province 2 is only a day, and we’ll send our fastest rider out. The letter to Province 9 is a bit longer. If Reyn isn’t in Province 2, his letter will be forwarded to Province 9.” Demi sealed the two letters in envelopes and handed them to a page just outside the door before returning to my hair.

  “Sorry about the rats’ nest I’ve got growing back there.”

  “It’s my joy to serve, your grace.” Demi paused combing my hair to tie the ribbon that stretched under my bust into a tight bow at my back. His movements were controlled and efficient. When I glanced down, my breasts were more prominent, and my waist visible – all with the simple tie of a ribbon.

  “Rosie. You can call me Rosie, Demi.”

  There was a long pause, and I could feel Demi and Rigs going back and forth silently behind me. “Yes, Princess Rosie, your grace.”

  I sighed and slumped in the chair, resigning myself to this new life, however isolated and strange it may be.

  4

  My Masseur

  After an amazing meal of potatoes, root vegetables, a squash soup served in a hollowed gourd, rolls, freshly churned butter, water and a drink called chaud vin, I was finally full. I’d been surviving on apples and berries for so very long. To stuff myself with the luxuries (in my very own new bedroom
) made me slightly giddy. That, coupled with being overly exhausted, brought my feet stumbling to the bed. “Goodnight, guys. Thanks so much for everything. The food was awesome. Haven’t eaten a real meal in forever.”

  I expected them to leave, but nothing in this castle turned out the way I expected. Rigs turned down my sheets while Demi took my hand and helped me into the tall bed. The intimidatingly high frame was sitting on a raised platform in the corner of the room near the window. The platform had three steps to it, so when my feet were planted on the floor, the mattress was as tall as my nose. It was like the bed itself was its own throne. The king-sized mattress sat atop a dark wood four-poster canopy bed. Despite my insistence that I didn’t need help with normal things, I didn’t turn down Demi’s hand when he offered it to help me up onto the super high mattress.

  I rolled to the middle of the bed atop the comforter, smiling up at Rigs when he asked me for the millionth time if I needed anything else. He stood on the platform at the side of my bed, looking down on me with a polite, capable expression of one who had control of his household. “You thought of everything, Rigs. You saved the day. Be sure to spread it around the watercooler that I said you were the most awesome of all the dudes ever.” My eyelids drifted shut, and I didn’t even bother getting under the covers. The mattress was as soft as a cloud, and I felt cradled in the sheer luxury of it all.

  When I opened my eyes, a small smile lightened Rigby’s formal demeanor. “I’ll do my utmost. Goodnight, Princess Rosie. Should you need anything, Demi will be right here.”

  Demi waited until Rigs showed himself out before he took out the bottle of oil, stealthily climbed atop the mattress and started rubbing my feet. I jerked to wakefulness, my eyes shooting back open at the contact I hadn’t been expecting. “Um, whatcha doing, Demi? I thought you’d be going out of the room with Rigs, there.”

  Demi looked down at the glass bottle in his hand and then to me. “I’m rubbing oil into your legs. You rode in on a horse, and you mentioned you’ve not been eating well. You must be sore.”

  I watched his movements that seemed like a guy honestly just trying to do his job, strange as his position was to me. “Um, okay. I guess that would be alright. Thanks. I’ve never had a foot rub with like, oil. You sure you don’t mind? I mean, you really don’t have to.”

  Demi managed a small smirk. “I don’t mind doing my job, no.” He knelt on the bed in between my feet and started on my right arch, digging his thumb right where I needed it.

  My protest flew right out the window, and my head fell back on the gold satin-covered down pillow. A gratuitous moan flew out of my lips, making me sound like rent-a-girl, and not so much like the princess I’d been marketed as. “Oh, that feels amazing.”

  “Good. Let me know where else you’re sore.”

  “My legs for sure, and my shoulders a little. But I’m really fine. I’m just being a baby about it. I’ve never had a real massage before.”

  “Truly? Her majesty most high has one every night and each morning. That’s where Rigby’s headed now.”

  “Huh. So how’d you land yourself this gig? Drew the short straw, did you?”

  Demi’s black eyebrows furrowed. “The short straw? No, your grace. I’m the envy of all the servants right now. I was chosen for you because I’m the best there is, aside from Rigby, of course.”

  “Oh. Congratulations?” I wasn’t sure what the appropriate sentiment was when the dude was boasting that he was the one who got to rub my feet. Boy, if Judah could see me now. He hated feet. Whenever Jill showed off her pedicures to him, his blanch was unavoidable.

  Demi had a charming grin and dramatic arches to his lips that made each expression he did worth watching. He had the face of the hot guy artist in any school, but the humble deportment of the band dork you couldn’t help but love. “Thank you, your grace.” He worked my right foot until I was a puddle of indulgence, sprawled out on the bed. Then he moved to my calf, massaging the meat with deft fingers and perfect pressure. His eyes met mine when his fingers trailed over my knee, digging his knuckles into the sore thigh muscle. I couldn’t help but groan, feeling totally self-conscious that I’d just met him, and he’d already touched more of my body than guys I’d played soccer with for years. I started to understand that the cure for Hot Guy Introvertedness was a massage. If only all the hot guys of the world knew this.

  “That feels like the best kind of amazing. Riding a horse for that long is no joke. Especially when I was just learning how to ride.”

  His voice lowered conspiratorially. “Is it true you were living as a mere Commoner all this time? There’ve been rumors floating around the castle.”

  “Uh-huh. I gotta warn you, when you’re doing that to my leg? Me and conversation? Not so much. I’m practically drooling over here.”

  His chuckle was light and indulgent. “Glad to hear it, your grace.”

  When his fingertips brushed over my underwear, I stiffened. “That’s a little too high for me.”

  Demi frowned, but recovered quickly. “Yes, your grace.” He started in on my left leg, asking questions about Common, and if I had any siblings.

  “Nope. You?”

  “The oldest of us was named Danniell, who ran away to the Forgotten Forest years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.” I tried to be a normal person in conversation, but man, his touch was like honey on my skin. The oil was rose-scented, and after weeks of no lotion, the pampering felt divine. “Why’d he go to the forest?”

  Demi was quiet a moment, and I realized my mistake too late. “It’s a long story.”

  I grimaced and bashed the heel of my hand to my forehead. “Oh! I’m sorry, man. That was probably a rude question to ask. I shouldn’t have said anything about it. I don’t even know you, and that’s personal. Totally thoughtless of me.”

  Demi’s hands stilled on my calf. “You’re apologizing? You’re apologizing to me?”

  “Well, yeah. Whatever reason Danniell had for going to the Forgotten Forest couldn’t have been a good one. Here I am, asking you to spill your guts when we don’t even know each other.” I waved my hand around to clear the air. “Ignore me. This massage is scrambling my brains.” I crossed my eyes to demonstrate my point and lighten the mood. “Totally uncool of me.”

  Demi didn’t even muster up a giggle at my crossed eyes, but stared at me like I’d started talking gibberish. “Never in my twenty-five years have I heard a Daughter of Avalon apologize. And for something so small? You apologized for… stepping on my feelings?” He acted like the notion was preposterous.

  I clumsily sat up on my elbows to get a better look at him. “Of course. That’s what friends do. If we’re going to be spending a ton of time together, I can’t imagine you’d be happy if I didn’t give a crap about your feelings.”

  His reply tumbled out wary as he leaned back on his heels. He glanced toward the door, as if he wished Rigby were here to translate for us. “I don’t think you’re supposed to care about my feelings, or my happiness.”

  I was too tired to argue the fundamentals of basic human decency, so instead I donned an ominous, self-righteous queen voice and thundered, “You dare tell a royal how I should care?”

  Demi looked horrified at what I’d thought was a pretty funny joke. He jumped off the bed, stepped down from the platform, and crouched down on all fours on the ground, his forehead pressed to the floor and his butt up in the air. “A thousand apologies would never be enough, your grace!”

  “Oh, jeez!” I fretted, feeling terrible. I totally sucked at all things Avalon. My relaxed limbs made it difficult to maneuver off the bed, but I managed to fumble my way to his side ungracefully. I knelt on the floor and picked up his head, scared that one of my stupid jokes could go south this fast. “Demi, I’m sorry. I was only kidding. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was trying to act all evil and scary to make you laugh. Do you really think I’d be mad about something stupid like that?”

  Fear was plain on his handsome features
. His high cheekbones and perfectly symmetrical face were twisted with distress. “Your majesty, please forgive my insolence.”

  “Only if you forgive me for telling a crappy joke.” I held his face in my hands, my thumbs rubbing out a crease that formed between his eyes when he worried. “Oh, man. I really scared you.” I felt horrible. I pulled him into my arms and hugged him tight, unwilling to let him live in so much fear around me. “I’m so sorry, Demi. I don’t understand Avalon. This place isn’t for me. You’re going to have to be crazy patient with how behind I am with all of this.”

  Demi was frozen for a second, but then banded his arms around my torso, resting his head on my shoulder. “Princess, a sweeter soul I’ve never known. You’re right to say this place isn’t you. We haven’t seen a smile like yours in ages.”

  5

  Demi in my Bed

  I quickly learned after Demi’s fourth hinting insistence that I make any request known to him, that he was expecting me to ask him to take his clothes off. I didn’t even think it was out of any sort of animalistic desire, since he’d been a decent guy most of the time, talking to my face and not my breasts, and staying engaged in whatever conversational trail we ran off on as we sat together on the floor. I was totally out of my element here, but I was determined to make a friend in this place. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “You can ask me anything.” He seemed grateful I was taking him up on his hinted offer for sexy times, which I was not.

  “So, Rigs said something in a roundabout way that made me wonder if Morgan is taking guys on the side while my dad’s out of commission.”

  “Of course. She can take whomever she wishes, any day or any night. She fills the castle with the men she most desires. It’s a high honor to be chosen for work in the castle.”