Rich Girl

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Rich Girl Page 6

by Mary E. Twomey


  “No,” Demi answered flatly. “And when she gets here, I’ll do my best not to look at you, so as not to provoke her. Try not to be offended. It’s only to make sure my head stays in place.” He turned me to face him so I could see his sincerity. His hands cupped my cheeks, reminding me that he’d just seen me almost naked. My cheeks heated in his capable hands. “But I’ll be counting the minutes until I can look on your lovely face again.”

  I’m sure it was probably a line. I mean, dude had been taught to tell royals whatever they wanted to hear. But darn it, if I didn’t believe the sincerity in his pleading eyes as they drank in my features. He looked at me as if I was beautiful.

  I don’t know why I did it, but for once I decided not to stop myself from being brave. I took a chance, leaned up on my toes and brushed my lips to his, just once, light as a feather’s touch. I wasn’t sure if it was romantic, or a very flirty platonic gesture, but it was enough to scare me away from him entirely.

  Demi’s eyes were wide with shock that I’d initiated the kiss I’d sworn I didn’t want. He judged the space between us to be way too much, and took a series of bold steps in my direction, backing me up until my shoulders pressed against the wall, my chest heaving against his. “I shouldn’t have…” I began, confused that I was thinking of Bastien now. A pang of disloyalty pinged in my chest, though I didn’t fully understand why. Bastien wasn’t in my life anymore; I didn’t owe him fidelity after what he’d done. Still, there was some undiscernible part of me that felt sad that I’d kissed someone else. Maybe this was what moving on felt like.

  Demi sized up my uncertainty and played along the edges of my daring, his lips brushing against mine from left to right, daring me to take a bite of the forbidden fruit. “Rosie,” he whispered, filling my lungs with his sweet peppermint breath. “I thought you said you didn’t want to be kissed.”

  “I d-don’t. Or I didn’t.” I turned my chin away from his to stop the slow seduction that oozed naturally from him. “I don’t know what I’m doing!”

  The knock on the door was well-timed, and broke us away from the point of no return. He shot me a look that told me to be cool, and puffed his chest before opening the door. “Good afternoon, your majesty most high. The Princess is overjoyed to see you now.”

  Morgan wore a red dress that showed off her exaggerated curves. Her lips were smudged in red, and her eyes seemed to spark with temper that came out of nowhere. “I thought I told you to be expecting suitors, and yet I hear reports of you running around in peasant clothes outside for anyone to see. How is it you’re this much of a problem already? I gave you one order: be beautiful. How is it you can’t remember one simple thing?”

  My mouth fell open, stunned that this was how she was starting out our second conversation. “I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to wear jeans.”

  Her voice was shrill as she yelled for everyone who might be walking down the hall to hear. “Were the dresses my tailors made for you not to your liking? Is it possible you’re this stubborn?”

  I stiffened, angry that she was treating me like I was a spoiled brat. “No. I told you I didn’t want to get married yet. I wasn’t expecting to have to perform like a monkey for men I have no interest in. I’m wearing the dress now, so chill out about it.”

  Lane had never hit me before, so I wasn’t expecting Morgan’s hand that flew out at me, slapping me across the face. My cheek burned with too many layers of betrayal, stunning me with the reality that this was my life now. Demi and Rigby kept their eyes resolutely on the floor, and I knew I was on my own.

  I had hurt on my face and venom welling in my soul, but luckily, I didn’t have to compromise myself by fighting back. A flock of birds came zooming in through the open window, attacking Morgan with their beaks, wings and claws. They tore at her hair, ripping pieces out and pecking at her face in my defense.

  As much as I appreciated the gesture and the knowledge that I wasn’t alone in all of this, I didn’t want to give Morgan yet another reason to hate me. I whistled for them to leave her alone. They’d been docile and decidedly not homicidal when I’d first met them, and now they’d turned dark for me. No, no. On my whistle, the birds flocked to me, forming several rows like little kamikaze soldiers between myself and Morgan, each of them chirping foul things that were better left unheard by human (or Fae) ears.

  “What foul magic is that?” she seethed.

  I tsked her. “You want me to ‘be beautiful’? Well, my birds don’t think your behavior is all that attractive. Birds don’t care about looks as much as they do about kindness.”

  Morgan’s voice was shrill. “You have no clue how to stay on top in this world!”

  “Being pretty means nothing!” I roared, more at life than at her. I wanted to scream it in the face of everyone who’d grimaced at me before I’d lost my magical necklace. I wanted to shout it at myself most of all, as a reminder that if I lost myself in the chaos of life, there would be nothing. I would be nothing if I tried to be Morgan’s daughter instead of remembering that my greatest adventure was me. Not this castle. Not a beauty contest. Not finding some guy to marry. Just plain me.

  Morgan was livid, her face dotted with bloody marks as she fumed. Her fists were clenched like they wanted to lash out at me, but knew they couldn’t without incurring more wrath from my feathered homies. Spittle flew out when she spoke to me through clenched teeth. “You will select a suitor, and dress like a daughter of the highest throne. You will behave with the decorum I would have raised you with, were you not taken from me.”

  I held up my hands. “You know, I always wanted to meet you. You’re starting off on the way wrong foot with me. I already want this to work, but I’m twenty-two. I don’t need someone to map out my life who’s just now meeting me. Maybe you and I should spend some time getting to know each other. That way I won’t piss you off so much.”

  “Not possible. I knew upon first glance that you would be just as foolish, reckless, and unpolished as Elaine.” She snapped her fingers to Demi, who came to her side in a blink. “Her figure hasn’t been trained. Tighten that corset.”

  “Yes, your majesty.” Demi didn’t waste a second coming around behind me, unlacing the ribbons on my dress and tightening the stays on the corset beneath. It was uncomfortable now, but I could still breathe, so you know, bonus.

  “Tighter,” Morgan demanded, an angry fire in her eyes. I knew that fire; it was the same flame that kindled irrational action inside of me whenever anyone made fun of Judah. I’d been suspended a couple of times for fighting on his behalf – totally worth it.

  Demi jerked me when he whipped the cords back. I didn’t mean to cry out, but dude, oxygen is kind of a nonnegotiable. “That’s too tight!”

  “Nonsense. You’re just not used to it. You’ll adjust in time. Tighter, Demi.”

  Demi led me around my birds and over to the bed while Rigby looked away. Demi’s long fingers positioned my hands on the pole. He wore dead eyes and had no words of reassurance on his lips. He pulled until I was sure either one of my ribs or the corset was going to break. Each cry from my lips made Morgan snider, satisfied that she was winning because I was suffering.

  When she finally decided I’d had enough, Demi laced up my dress and stood behind me, awaiting further instruction. I was scared to breathe for too many reasons. All of it was too much. I tried to keep my voice calm. “Whatever point you’re trying to make here, I already get it. I’m a disappointment. You’re the queen, and I’m a nobody. I get it. I’ll stay out of your way, and I’ll play along as much as I can.” I shook my head at her, drawing in the shallowest of breaths. “But a corset won’t make me more yours. Hurting me won’t make me love you.”

  Morgan squared her shoulders to me. “I’ve no interest in love. Queens don’t have that luxury. In time, you’ll see the lengths I’m going to are for your own good. Avalon needs a strong, unified monarchy.”

  “Unified? You’ve been living alone for too long if you think this is how you an
d I will get on the same page. I’m not one of your subjects out there. All I wanted was for you to be nice to me. Tell me you like my hair because it looks like yours. Play catch with me. Take me shopping. Tell me about your life. You know, girlfriend type of stuff. This?” I motioned to the dress, and then my line of birds who had their tails up in anticipation of another attack. My breasts felt pushed to their limits, my dress straining around my chest with each barely-there breath I managed. “This isn’t the way. I’m your daughter first, and a princess second. I think you forgot that.”

  It was as if I hadn’t even spoken. “Rigby, take Demi down to the post and have him disciplined for letting the princess out in peasant clothing. If he’s to be entrusted with her care, he must understand the level to which he must rise. There will be suitors here from all over Avalon. Mistakes like that could be costly.”

  “Disciplined?” I was panicked that something as simple as jeans could be cause for punishment. “What does that mean?”

  A small smile played on Morgan’s lips. “He’ll be tied to a post and whipped until he spills enough blood to satisfy me.”

  The worst was that there was no reaction from Demi, only compliance. He bowed his head to her. “Yes, your majesty most high.”

  When he moved toward the door, I grabbed his arm, dread and regret crushing any bravado I might’ve had. “No! No, Morgan. I wore jeans. Demi didn’t tell me to. We didn’t know how crazy your standards were, or I wouldn’t have done that. I’m not trying to make you mad, here. You can’t attack Demi for a mistake I made!”

  “I can do as I please, and it pleases me to watch him bleed for his mistakes. Serving the high princess is the loftiest honor any servant in all of Avalon can have, aside from serving me. I’ll not have him treat the privilege so callously.”

  “Then I’ll take his place,” I offered, scared and half out of my mind. I held tight to Demi, my hand in his as I moved forward to shield him with my body.

  “No, Princess,” Demi admonished me quietly. “It’s alright. I’ll go willingly. If it pleases my queen to watch me bleed, there can be no higher honor than to delight her majesty most high.”

  I could barely move, and air was hard to come by, so panicking wasn’t helping matters. I ignored Demi’s canned response I knew he had to produce to avoid a worse beating. “Whip me instead until you’re happy. It’s me you hate, obviously. It’s me you’re disappointed in. Don’t take it out on him.”

  I couldn’t believe I caught Morgan off her guard, but that seemed to do it. She took a step back, trying to figure me out. “You can’t possibly mean to offer yourself in his place. He’s merely a slave.”

  “He’s a person!” I roared. “If you think punishing him will help anything, you’re dead wrong. It’ll only divide you and me more. You want a unified kingdom? Then don’t attack my servant.” I hated that I used the word “servant,” but guessed that if I said “friend,” it would only drive her to hurt him more.

  She snatched at my face again, pinching my jaw with her nails to hold me in place. “You have one job: be beautiful. Whatever this is that you’re doing? It’s pathetic, not beautiful.”

  The second she released my cheeks, Demi whirled me around to face him, his expression composed while he chose his words carefully. “It gives me pleasure to serve her majesty most high. I would not allow you to take my place, even if we had that choice. To take pleasure from my queen would be a crime I couldn’t abide in myself.” He seemed to be saying something more with his eyes, pleading with me to be cool, and that this was all kosher. Then he met Morgan’s eyes with a firm nod. “I’ll go now.”

  Morgan composed her face and rolled her shoulders back, exposing her cleavage proudly. “Very well, Demi.”

  Demi didn’t need an escort to take himself to the post. He walked out with grace and dignity befitting someone light-years above me. I knew tears would start to well in my eyes, so I did my best to calm myself down. I wouldn’t degrade myself in front of that hateful woman.

  “A guard will escort you around the castle until your soumettre is returned to you, no doubt wiser this time.” Morgan sneered at the birds, kicking one before she made her exit, slamming my door behind her.

  9

  New Husband, New Voice

  Tears poured down my face, but the second I realized I couldn’t wheeze and carry on with the corset so tight, I did my best to calm down so I didn’t pass out. I was afraid to go out of the room looking anything less than perfect, lest Demi be punished for me being a loser. I made sure my nose wasn’t red, and the birds re-braided my hair, assuring me that I looked like a princess. A heavy weight settled on me that Demi would pay the price if I screwed up even the smallest detail. The corset was too tight, and my fingers started to tingle from the unbearable constriction.

  Rigby, not a guard, greeted me when I stepped out into the stone hallway, though he still did not look at my face. “Where shall I escort you, your majesty?”

  “I’d like to visit my father, please,” I said quietly. The bird on my shoulder cheeped encouragement to me. It was sweet, but I couldn’t feel anything but doomed. “Is that okay? Is that beautiful?” I wasn’t sure what I was allowed to do anymore.

  It was then I realized I just asked a man for permission to move around in my own home. I just asked someone if my actions were beautiful – a thing I would never have cared about, were there not the threat of violence to cage me in like a frightened animal. I was sickened at my obeisance, but couldn’t stomach getting anyone else hurt for my freedom.

  “Of course, your majesty. Follow me.”

  There was no charm to him anymore – not that he’d had a ton to begin with. I’d thought I’d caught a glimpse yesterday, but Morgan had stamped out his personality, ironing him into the drone she desired. I wanted desperately to ask Rigby if Demi was alright, but I knew he couldn’t be. I kept my bluebird with me, letting him nuzzle me every few steps to keep me going. I was beginning to understand the whole fragile princess trope. The corset was so tight, I could hardly breathe. Walking only exacerbated my dilemma.

  Rigby led me past dozens of guards in leather armor, who all turned their backs on me when I approached. While I knew it was because Morgan was having one of her infamous jealousy days, I couldn’t help but feel like a leper.

  Rigby took a heavy skeleton key from his pocket when we reached wooden doors that stretched from floor to ceiling. He nodded to the two guards who stood post just outside, and unlocked the door, heaving it open with a heavy shove. The creaking told me the room wasn’t well cared for, and the thick coat of dust inside confirmed that fact for me.

  There was no flourish to the space, just a simple narrow bed in an unlit, windowless room, next to an end table. The man on the bed had a mostly unlined face with crinkles around his eyes. After meeting Morgan, I wondered if those were from stress. His hands rested at his sides, and if I didn’t know better, I would guess that he’d been merely sleeping. I resisted the urge to poke him.

  I don’t know what I’d been expecting, other than Clark Kent. He was a man beginning his fifties, by my guess. My steps felt weighted as I neared my father’s bedside, shocked that I was meeting my own personal rock star, and he hadn’t been disappointed in me yet. Granted, he was unconscious, but still.

  He’d sent me to live with Lane because he knew Morgan was bad news. Though he couldn’t express it all to me, there was something inside that latched onto the hope that my father loved me, once upon a very long time ago. I reached out and brushed my fingers through his chestnut hair that had wisps of gray at the temples. There was dust in his hair that wafted out with my simple touch. I don’t know why, but the fact that he’d been so abandoned that his body had begun to collect dust angered me. He had a longer nose than mine, but my breath caught in my throat when I saw the three freckles on his left cheek that were identical to my own.

  I was too nervous to talk to him yet, especially with an audience, but for a first encounter, we weren’t doing too bad
ly.

  Rigby locked the heavy doors behind us and sighed, releasing his tight shoulders with visible relief. “Princess, are you well?”

  I pried my eyes from my father to look at Rigs incredulously. “Are you serious?”

  He motioned me to come to him. “Let me loosen your stays while we’re in here. I can’t imagine you can breathe like that.”

  I almost gusted out a sigh of relief, but my ribs couldn’t expand all that far. I turned around and nearly cried when the laces fell slack. I held my dress up and let Rigby adjust the whole getup so I could move around more comfortably. “Thank you.”

  Professional Rigby was put on hold when he spun me around and placed his hands on my shoulders, looking me seriously in the eye. “You must never do that again. Demi and all the slaves in the mansion understand that her majesty most high does what she wishes. Standing up to her only ever makes it worse.”

  “But Demi is getting hurt because of me! All because I wore jeans? That’s ridiculous! You have to help him.”

  “The only help I can give him is to educate you on how to survive here. You cannot contradict the queen. You will wear your stays tight. You will choose a suitor. You will do as you’re told, otherwise Demi will suffer for it. She knows she cannot harm you, not now that the announcement’s been made to the provinces that the Lost Princess has been returned to us. And especially not now that she sees the full loyalty your gift garners from the animals.” His voice lowered. “There have been rumors that Master Kerdik has returned to Avalon. He was friends with King Urien, and her majesty most high knows he wouldn’t tolerate her killing King Urien’s offspring. So you will obey, or Demi will suffer for your freedom.”

  “I have to get married? Like, there’s no other choice?”

  Rigby nodded solemnly. “Yes. You must get married. If I were you, I’d choose a suitor before one is chosen for you. Duke Henri has the most land that’s been bountiful enough to sustain its people. It’s close to Province 1, and it would behoove her majesty most high to absorb his land without a fight. Duke Henri is who she’ll choose for you. It’s the most advantageous move for her because it will add to her kingdom. The Duke has already agreed to it. He’s put up a fight to remain independent from her for years, but now that Master Kerdik might be back? He’ll want you in his household so Master Kerdik’s blessings might fall on him. Morgan and Duke Henri stand to gain a lot from this union.”

 

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