Rich Girl

by Mary E. Twomey

  My mouth fell open at the blast of insider information. “She wants me to marry Draper or Damond? But they’re my cousins! Isn’t that against some sort of law or something?”

  He shook his head. “No, no. Draper’s been cast out, so he holds no royal claim. He’s royal only in name, but not by inheritance. Damond is promised to a judge’s daughter from Province 3. You would be married off to Duke Henri himself.”

  My mouth fell open and my stomach churned. Now that I could start to feel my fingers again, since my stays had been loosened, my hands started to vibrate with fear. “No. You can’t be serious. He’s old! He’s my uncle! He’s got to be more than twice my age. He hit Lane right in front of me!”

  Rigby exhaled when he saw he was finally getting through to me. “Exactly why you should be proactive and choose a suitor for yourself. Duke Henri has far more terrible traits than striking a woman, I assure you. I couldn’t live with myself if I let you get married off to someone like him.”

  There was nowhere to sit, so I dropped to my knees on the floor while I tried to sort things out. “I have a month before I have to get married, right?”

  “Yes, but you must choose a suitor well before then. All of Avalon is coming to the celebration of your return in less than two weeks’ time. You have to give the queen your decision by then.”

  I knew I wouldn’t be able to sneak out all the jewels in two weeks. I was under such scrutiny that I could barely go outside without wrath raining down on my head. I closed my eyes and swallowed the bile in my throat. “There’s no way out of this.”

  “I’m afraid not. But there are ways to make your life bearable. Duke Henri isn’t your only option.”

  “That door’s locked?”

  “It is. We’re alone.”

  I reached for Rigby’s pant leg and tugged him down to sit next to me. His movements were stiff and unpracticed at tenderness, but he managed to wrap his arm around my shoulders, allowing my head to fall on his sturdy shoulder. “Do you think my dad would’ve liked me?”

  Rigs’ body softened around mine, his chin resting against my temple. He reached for my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. “I have no doubt he would be most pleased to see what a compassionate, willful woman his daughter turned out to be. To offer yourself like that for a mere slave? I’ve never seen anything like it in all my years serving her majesty most high. No doubt Demi will be the envy of all the servants now.”

  I snorted my disbelief. “Yeah. I bet they all wish for a beating like that. She’s sick to send Demi there.”

  I could hear Rigs’ gentle smile in his tone. “They wish a royal would care for anything other than territory or themselves. They wish to catch the eye of a beautiful princess, as all men do. Demi will be envied because a princess offered herself up for him after bedding him only one night. It speaks highly of his ability to please you if your connection is already this strong.”

  “Okay, first off, Demi and I aren’t having sex. I want my first time to be special, not something that my mother arranged. I mean, seriously. Demi’s my friend, and he’s been super way nice to me. After the culture shock this place is? I need a friend to keep me sane. I can’t believe she’s hurting him. Is it bad, the punishment?”

  “Oh, it’s most severe. It has to be to keep us all in line and under her thumb.” At his brazen words, he checked the door again to make sure we were alone, and that no one witnessed him mouthing off. “But rest assured, Demi will be glowing when word spreads of your intended sacrifice. With that single act, you’ve already won the hearts of the slaves here.”

  “Well, I didn’t do it for that. Demi’s my friend. Of course I’d take his place. He didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s me Morgan’s mad at.” I let out my worries, since finally someone was around who understood the rules and would explain them to me. “What am I going to do about this marriage thing, Rigs? I can’t marry Duke Henri. Just the thought makes me want to ralph.”

  “Then you must choose your own suitor. Someone you can stomach, preferably.”

  “But I don’t know anyone in Avalon well enough for that. And how does this even work? I just go up to some dude on the street and be like, ‘I’m Rosie Avalon. Nice to meet you. You’re bipedal and seem like you might not be an axe murderer. Will you marry me?’” My nose scrunched in distaste. “I can’t even picture myself doing that.”

  Rigby chuckled at my ineptitude. “No, no. Nothing like that. The announcement’s already been made, so eligible suitors will come to make their offer to you for marriage at the celebration for Avalon. You simply select whom you like.”

  “But how? I don’t know anyone. How will I know who’s a good guy?”

  Rigby took a few beats to think this out before responding. “Did you think her majesty most high was good when you first met her?”

  “No,” I admitted. “Though I wanted her to be.”

  “Trust your instincts. Pick someone you like the sound of. If he has a voice that stirs something in you, investigate that offer.”

  I reached out and coiled my fingers around a handful of his shirt, needing someone to stay with me when life was too weird to be livable. “Will you be there? Like, when I have to meet these guys, will you be with me?”

  “If the queen wills it.”

  “Can we work out a signal or something? Like, ask me if I want potatoes when a guy you think is good comes around?”

  “If I’m there, I can come to your room the next morning and give you my thoughts on which of them would make the best mate for you. The list of people I would approve of isn’t long, I’m afraid. It would have to be someone strong enough to stand up to her majesty most high, and those are few and far between.” He gave me a slight squeeze before standing to his feet and pulling me along with him. “Come, now. I’ve indulged you too long. Princesses don’t sit on the floor. This room is dusty and hasn’t been tended to in a long time. I’ll see to it that it’s cleaned if you’re wishing to make visits here a regular occurrence.”

  “I do, yes. Could I have a minute with my dad?”

  “Of course, your grace.”

  “Rosie,” I reminded him.

  Rigby looked deep into my eyes, saying things I didn’t expect over so small a thing as asking him to call me by my first name. He held my hands in his, my knuckles to the ceiling, and kissed the backs of both of them. “I saw your face when I had to keep you at a distance this morning. Know that it’s always for your own good.”

  “I know that now.”

  “It causes me pain to see you suffer. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  I nodded once, my chin lowered, and I migrated into his arms for a quick hug to center us both. “Thanks, Rigs. See you in a few.”

  I waited until the doors shut behind him before I made my way back to the bedside of the man who hadn’t moved the entire time. I didn’t know what to do, but thought I’d start with the basics. “Hi, Urien, sir. It’s nice to meet you.” I mouthed the word, “Dad”, unsure if I was allowed to call him that. Morgan didn’t like me calling her “Mom”.

  I don’t know why I expected a response, but when nothing came, I was a little disappointed. I picked up his hand, since there were no witnesses. I dusted it off, and studied his pliable skin. Though there were no windows, and he’d not been outside in who knows how long, his skin was a shade darker than mine. Since Morgan was paler, I guessed I got my easy tan from him.

  I racked my brain for something to say. “I, um, I grew up alright. That depends on who you ask, I guess, but Lane will tell you I turned out okay. I flossed, was going to school, had friends.” I tried to think back to my life up in Common. “I recycled.” I grimaced and smacked my hand to my forehead. “Who cares about any of that? I’m sorry. I’m screwing this up. I don’t know who you want me to be, or if the things that are important to me even register with you. But I’m here, and I’ll try to be here every day so you know the world hasn’t forgotten about you.”

  Sadness gripped me hard around the
throat. I raised his palm to my cheek and molded his thick fingers around the curves of my face, wishing he could do that on his own – hoping he’d want to. My plea came out in a whisper I couldn’t bring myself to say too loud. “I wish you knew me.”

  A tear fell from the corner of my eye, and I turned my chin so I could press a kiss to the center of his palm.

  “Is someone near me? Is a woman speaking?”

  My head whipped around, but no one was there. “Huh? Who said that?”

  The voice came back confused. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

  I dropped his hand and moved to the door, pressing my ear to it.

  “Can you hear me?” the man repeated. “Is it possible?”

  My eyes zeroed in on my father, my mouth going dry. I bolted to his side and scooped up his hand again. “Urien? Is that you?”

  His mouth didn’t move, but I could hear him clear as day. “Yes! Have I finally gone mad, or is there someone who can actually hear me?”

  Frantic tears pricked my eyes as my fingers fluttered over his hand. “I can hear you, Da—your majesty. How did this happen? How can I help? What can I do?” I knew it was a cop-out not telling him who I was, now that he could hear me and focus on my voice, but I couldn’t handle a second parent hating me before I had a chance to prove myself.

  “Morgan!” he roared in his mind, though his body remained motionless. “Morgan le Fae did this to me! By what miracle can you hear me?”

  “I don’t know,” I lied. “Just lucky, I guess. Are you in pain?”

  “Only the pain of my heart. I’ve been trapped in my own mind for so long! Tell me, how many moons have passed since I fell into this sleep?”

  My neck shrunk into my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m new here myself. I don’t actually know much about you or Avalon. I’m thinking someone told me you’ve been out around twenty-one years or so.”

  Urien let out a strangled cry of grief that was fueled by rage. “Twenty-one years? Has someone killed Morgan yet? Tell me her reign came to a bloody end.”

  The fury in his voice made sense, but I still flinched. “Uh, no. You’re lying on a bed in her castle, actually. I don’t know why they didn’t at least get you a room with a window. Maybe a little sunshine would help you get better.”

  Urien scoffed. “Morgan doesn’t want me to get better. She put me here to make sure I remained useless to Avalon.” His voice changed to dread, and for a second, he sounded scared. “Tell me Elaine took my Rosalie away. Tell me she escaped with my daughter. Tell me my daughter is safe!”

  His anguished plea wrenched my heart from my chest and threw it across the room in a bloody mess. “She did. That much I do know. Rosalie is safe and well, and so is Lane. She took your daughter up to Common, where they’ve been living for the past twenty-one years.”

  Urien exhaled internally with dramatic relief. “That’s good. Just knowing Rosalie is far away from Morgan gives me enough peace not to go insane. To be trapped like this for twenty-one years? I cannot bear it!”

  “Hey, I’m here now.” I tried to stuff down my swelling emotions and keep a calm bedside manner. I squeezed his hand. “Can you feel this?”

  “I feel nothing. Are you doing something?”

  “I was squeezing your hand. Nothing at all?”

  “I’m sorry, but my body deserted me a long time ago.”

  I sat on the side of his bed, frowning at the dilemma. “I don’t know how to fix this. I’m not from around here, so I don’t know all the magic and whatnot that went into making you like this. Any ideas?”

  “Of course I know what did it. It was the Hemlock she gave me. No doubt small doses over time. I noticed my body weakening, my mind losing control over my limbs, but I couldn’t put reason to it all until it was too late. My mouth had stopped being accessible to me, and my hands were useless to write out the problem. Morgan ground up the flowers and distilled them into my wine. She tore the edges of the Hemlock leaves into my salads. Small doses that went unnoticed at first, but weakened me over time. She admitted as much to me when she was sure I could do nothing about it. She confessed her crimes to torment me, knowing I could not make the poison known.”

  I wanted to say the right thing, but knew there might not be a right thing that existed in this totally wrong scenario. Though he couldn’t feel the gesture, I pressed his hand to my cheek to warm it. “I don’t know anything about Hemlock. Is there a way to fix it? Something I can do to help?”

  “If only there was. No one can help me now. Just staying here with me, talking to me is the only kindness I can ask you for.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Well, I can do that, but there’s really no other way? Nothing that can bring you back to me?” I cleared my throat. “I mean, back to Avalon?”

  “Miracles stopped giving themselves to me long ago. That you’re here? It’s the greatest gift I could hope for. Tell me, what’s become of Province 1?”

  10

  The Hot Guy

  I took my time explaining the little I knew about Avalon to my father, never once slipping up and telling him who I was. It was right on the tip of my tongue, but the secret stayed tucked inside of me. I was afraid of disappointing him, or that he wouldn’t like me. By the time Rigby knocked on the door to let me know my time was up, I’d managed to make my dad laugh at one of my lamer jokes. That was present enough for me. I made my dad laugh. Though he didn’t know who I was, he got me.

  I walked behind Rigby to my bedroom, wishing I could take another tour of the grounds to see if I couldn’t fish out that jewel I knew was in the moat. Rigby retightened my corset, in case Morgan came back to check on me. The stays were constricting, but not as punishing as Morgan had ordered. “I promise I’ll come up here and loosen them if Demi is detained longer than the usual beating.”

  I nodded, wishing there was something I could do to save Demi, to save my father, to save myself. I felt impotent, and like Superman was always just out of reach. “Rigs, I need to pick your brain. I want to make something we have up in Common, but I don’t know how without, like, a saw or something.”

  “What is it you require?” Though his words were formal, Rigs’ body wasn’t so stiff. After our time where he’d held me on the floor, his hand often found its way to my shoulder, brushing my loose hairs back from my face, or holding my hands with my knuckles facing the ceiling, like a gentleman.

  “They’re called bowling pins, but I can’t think of anything you might have that’s a similar shape.”

  “Did you say rolling pins? Because we have those here.”

  I smacked my forehead at the obvious solution. “Rigs, you’re a genius. I was seriously about to try my hand at whittling the stinkin’ things. I think a rolling pin would work. I just need to take one of the handles off, and fill in the hole so the other end stays pointy on top.” I demonstrated with my hands that the pins would stand upright.

  Rigs tried to picture what I was talking about. “I can have that seen to, of course. But for what purpose could you possibly need that?”

  “The greatest purpose of all – fun. Any chance I could get my hands on ten of them?”

  “I suppose so.” He stared at my smile with far off eyes. “My, you’re captivating when you light up. Fun. It’s been a long time since the castle’s seen much of that.” He cleared his throat and straightened, as if catching himself in a moment of letting his guard down. “Shall I bring you your supper, your grace?”

  “I guess that would be best, yeah. Morgan’s in a mood, so I probably should stay out of sight.”

  “You’re learning. Very good, Rosie.”

  After Rigs left, I expected Demi to come up, but when night fell, I’d been sent my supper to eat alone in my room. The next day was much the same, only Rigs warned me that even walking to see my father might risk her majesty’s wrath. I spent the entire day in my bedroom, wondering if this was how Rapunzel was kept locked away. I’d been ostracized in Common because I wasn’t pretty enough, but now that I didn’t
make people cringe? I was holed up in my room with two guards posted outside, to make sure I didn’t go anywhere that might cause a dude to lust, or some nonsense.

  When evening fell again, I opened the window and let the birds in that were perched on the sill, just waiting for a minute with me. It was a powerful feeling to have them be so excited to see my face. After my mother’s clear hatred of me, it was refreshing to listen to them clamber to get near where I stood.

  They had much to report, and kept talking over each other. Apparently, Morgan went on a daily walk that encompassed the grounds, stopping for a breath at a few key points along the way. One of those places was the exact spot near the moat that I noticed. They promised to track the times of day Morgan did these walks. They even had birds posted around the grounds to see if there were any guards who circled the marked areas, and at what times the coast was clear.

  I yawned, thanking them over and over for how brave they all were, and how much I needed and appreciated their help. The bed beckoned to me, but the knock on the door interrupted my climb up the platform toward the pink satin sheets.

  I wasn’t expecting Demi, holding a dinner tray, looking down at me with tears in his eyes, but the second I saw him, my heart jumped into my throat. I took the tray from his trembling hands and set it on the table near the center of the room, keeping quiet until the door was shut and locked behind him. The second I was sure we were alone, I threw myself into his arms to make sure he was real, and that he’d been returned to me in one functioning piece.