“Do you promise?” she asked, finally gazing up at me.
“I promise,” I said and hoped I didn’t come to regret those words.
“Pinky promise,” she insisted, holding up a hand and extending a delicate pinky finger.
I did, which made me more afraid for her but stoked the fire within to uphold the promise.
“I’ll write to you every day,” she said, and I laughed.
“That seems a little excessive, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“I didn’t want to hit you,” she said.
“I know.”
“Johanna wouldn’t admit it, but she didn’t either.”
“I know that too. She’s not one to give away her hand.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind.” We sat there silently for a minute and then she lay down and put her head in my lap. I stroked her blonde hair with its locks of red and pink. It felt just like silk.
“You should probably go before someone realizes you’re not in your room and comes looking for you.”
“Can’t I stay the night?” she asked, looking up at me with sorrowful eyes. Those eyes would be absolutely irresistible to the boys in a few short years.
“No. You should get back. I don’t want to get either of us into trouble.”
Mina sat up and hopped down from the bed. “Are you really going to be a princess?”
“I wish I knew,” I said. “But it seems I’ll find out soon.”
“I hope so,” she said as she made for the door.
In truth, I didn’t know how I felt about it; the information was all too new and still seemed too unbelievable. So, I simply smiled, but she didn’t turn back to see it.
After she was gone, I went back to my thoughts, which were becoming more overwhelming by the second. Now, I had to add Mina’s physical and emotional wellbeing to my growing list of concerns. If I really was to become the next Princess of Westeria, there was no doubt I’d be able to keep my promise to Mina. But what if I wasn’t? I had no idea what to expect in three days’ time. What if I was simply exchanging one house of chores for another? What if this was some cruel joke or some other situation or circumstance I wasn’t even considering?
I didn’t know who to trust. As nice as Lady Ramsey had been to me over the years, I’d never felt she was telling me the whole truth. I would never in a million years consider trusting Master Ramsey. I didn’t personally know the Queen, but, historically, royal figures were not known for being forthcoming and trustworthy. And as handsome and kind as Prince Byron seemed from the hologram, I didn’t know him either. The only person I truly trusted was a brokenhearted, twelve-year-old girl, whom I well knew could be taken advantage of or manipulated to betray me against her better judgment. I suddenly felt the full weight of my loneliness.
I was startled by the sound of a few quick taps. My attention returned to the door, but when I heard a few more raps, it was obvious they weren’t coming from there.
Three more resounded, louder this time.
I recognized the sound as something rapping against glass—against one of my small windows. I looked in their direction, but my curtains were drawn.
Already on edge from all the stress of the day, this was not helping; my stomach tightened and my pulse increased. I waited, hoping whatever was causing the sound had left or blown away.
But the rapping returned in a quick burst.
I finally gathered the nerve to get off my bed and approach the window where the sound was coming from. I didn’t know why I was suddenly so fearful of a faint noise from a window too small for anyone to fit through, but my rationale was overtaken by my sensational over-imagination.
I slowly reached a hand up and pulled the curtain to one side as the next burst sounded.
I was hit with the beam of a flashlight, as its head knocked against the window. A figure was lying in the grass outside—a figure looking vaguely familiar. The flashlight then turned onto his face so I could better make out who was calling on me—or who was here to finish the job. It was the boy I’d seen from across the field, the one the Governess had warned me about.
My heart pounded against my chest as he stared at me through the window. He’d obviously known exactly where to find me.
Chapter 8
I closed the curtain in a flash, stepping back.
“Victoria, please talk to me,” I heard the boy say from outside, soft enough as to not call too much attention to himself. “I need to talk to you. I need to make sure you’re all right.”
His words took me aback. He didn’t sound like the Governess had described but I wasn’t about to drop my guard for a few sweet words of concern.
“Then talk,” I said, standing in place, my attention on the closed curtain. “How about starting with who you are and how you know me.”
“I don’t know what they did to you,” he said. “You know me. I’m Kale. Please come outside. I need to see you.”
“Are you mad?” I scoffed. “I’m not going outside with you out there.”
“I’m sorry. Will you at least come to the window? What could I possibly do through this tiny thing?”
I sighed, but stepped forward and reopened the curtain. “There. Now you can see me. Happy? Why are you here? What did you do to me?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything.” He sounded offended. “Are you hurt?”
“What would you know about that?”
“I know what the Duke does to you. You’ve shown me the wounds. You’ve cried in my arms. I swore to take you away from here.” Kale’s eyes were pleading. He put a hand to the glass. “I don’t know what happened after they took you and I’ve had to lie low and be careful since it happened.”
“Who took me?”
“The guards of the Ramseys. They hauled you back… home. So, are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I said, even though I felt anything but.
“No, you’re not,” he said as if reading my mind. “You’re forgetting how well I know you. I can read it all over your face. You’re far from fine.”
“You can’t. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you like to eat peanut butter straight out of the jar. You love the smell of the honeysuckles growing out past the stables. Your favorite book is Pride and Prejudice and you’ve read it nine times. You want to see all twenty-four wards. You want to ride Misty on the beach and splash in the ocean. You feel like a real big sister to Mina and wanted to take her with us. You—”
“Take Mina with us?” I asked, cutting him off.
“Yes.” Kale brought his face closer to the window. “Take her away from here because you were afraid she was receiving the same type of treatment as you. It was deplorable just to think about.”
“I was… I thought that?” I thought how surprised I was when Mina had brought up the subject earlier. I had no recollection of such thoughts. Then I grew more upset with what else I wasn’t remembering. Like Kale… He was telling me specific details about myself that I thought no one else knew. How much else of what he was saying was true? There was a lot I was having a hard time remembering, but it was so strange I had no memory of him at all.
“I can see the gears turning,” Kale said. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I said. “I wish I could remember at least one thing about you. It would help make all this seem real and give some validation to what you’re telling me.”
“That would make things a whole lot easier.”
“How long have we known each other?”
“About four months.”
“That’s all?”
“It may not have been a long time, but I’ve felt like I’ve known you for years. We just clicked, you know? We still can.”
I stared at him through the glass and wished I felt the same way. He seemed sincere with everything he was saying, and God knew I needed a friend right now—someone I could trust. But trustworthy people were very hard to come by.
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“Can I persuade you to come outside yet?” Kale asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I said. My room still felt safer than being out there with him. Maybe not much, but enough.
“Can I at least call on you again? If we must start over, then so be it. I’m not letting you go.”
“There isn’t time to start over,” I said, sadly.
“What do you mean. Of course, there is. You’re not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere—”
“That’s just it,” I said, my voice catching in my throat. “I’m leaving in three days.”
“Where to? When will you return?”
“I don’t know when I’ll be back… if I ever come back.” I didn’t know how much I should tell him, so tried to keep my answer vague and hoped he wouldn’t pry too much. “New accommodations have been made for me in the 1st Ward.”
“Wow…” He seemed lost for words, which helped me. “Stepping up in the world, Lady Victoria.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Maybe you’ll even get to meet the Queen.” His tone was sarcastic.
I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Kale said. “At least it gets you out of here, which is what you wanted. I really want you to be happy, so I should be happy for you.”
“But you’re not.”
“We had a plan.”
“So you say.”
“I know… I’m asking too much, putting too much pressure—”
There was a booming knock at the door.
“Who are you talking to?” It was the voice of Master Ramsey. The door opened and he stumbled into the room.
Perhaps it hadn’t been a knock at the door, but him crashing into it as he fumbled for the doorknob. He wasn’t typically one to knock in his own house.
I closed the curtain before he could take an inventory of the room, and I spun around to face him.
He still held onto the doorknob for support. In his other hand, he held a whole bushel of freshly cut switches. Six, seven, maybe eight—I couldn’t count them all, nor did I want to as I considered their implication.
“You think you can just leave?” All his words ran together. The stench of whiskey and cigar smoke poured into the room like a tidal wave. “You will not leave until I say you can leave… and especially not without a proper send-off.” He sneered at me, gathered his balance, and closed the door behind him. “Come. Bend over. And place your palms flat on the bed.”
Chapter 9
I backed up against the far wall. I knew Kale was only a few feet away, but there was nothing he could do to help me from outside. I knew if I screamed, I’d only make things worse for myself.
“Please don’t do this,” I pleaded. I was as far away from the drunken Master as I could get, but it was a dead end. I had nowhere left to go.
“I gave you a direct order, Princess.” Each slurred word was laced with venom, but he didn’t raise his voice. He rarely found the need to do so; he was a big and powerful man, used to the world bending to his will. And I was a small girl who could easily be bent.
“Do as you’re told, or so help me God, I will make it so you never sit comfortably again.”
The thought sent chills throughout my entire body. I inched forward, making my way to the bed while giving him a wide berth.
“That’s it, darling,” he said and placed all but one of the switches on the nightstand. He flexed it, slicing the air with a heavy swing. “Everything will go much smoother if you follow directions.”
I reached the bed and placed my hands on the mattress, bending forward as directed. I shut my eyes tight, trying not to think of what was to come. In his drunken state, there’d be no holding back. And I would have to remain standing.
Then there was a crash and the sound of glass shards raining onto the concrete floor. A metal flashlight bounced off the side of my bed, hitting the ground.
Master Ramsey stumbled back into my dress rack and pulled a few dresses off their hangers, trying to regain his footing.
“What the hell was that?” he roared.
No other sound came from the broken window. My eyes shot open and I was upright in a flash, ready to run.
Master Ramsey shuffled past me, toward the broken window. He grabbed the curtain; I think he meant to just slide it to the side, but instead ended up ripping the curtain rod right out of the wall. He gazed out into the cold night, but on this side of the house, there weren’t many lights so there wasn’t much to see. There seemed to be no trace of Kale.
Master Ramsey shifted from one side to the other, disoriented and confused. He finally picked up the flashlight and examined it, turning it on, then off again.
“Who were you talking to?” he asked, waving the flashlight at me.
“No one,” I said. “I was talking to myself. It gets lonely down here, especially at night.”
He kept the flashlight pointed at me and looked like he was about to say more, but then ran out of the room without uttering further reprimands. From the force of him throwing open the door, the doorknob had slammed into the wall, leaving a hole in the drywall.
I hurried over, closed the door, and fell back against it with a heavy sigh. But after a moment to regain my breath, I ventured toward the broken window.
“Kale?” I called into the night. “Kale, are you still there?”
There was no reply.
Then I heard the crunch of multiple sets of booted feet trekking through the grass and gravel. Master Ramsey had already gathered a posse of guards and was checking the perimeter of the house. I heard a few sets of the same booted feet just outside my broken window, and after a few seconds, they stomped away.
My heart went out to Kale and I hoped his head start had been enough for him to get away.
I lit a candle on the nightstand. With the flickering light in hand, I ventured out into the cellar, first looking around to ensure I was alone, then burrowing into the cave of stored furniture, all the while being careful not to set fire to any materials. The wood smelled of varnish and mothballs. I pulled at the sheet covering a stack of chairs, then crawled under another until I found a large enough space to rest. The sheet I’d taken provided something other than the concrete to sleep on, and once I was settled in, I blew out the candle and drifted to slumber amongst the ghosts.
When I awoke, there was light outside my indoor tent. Two servants were talking to each other, probably down here to get extra supplies for breakfast.
“No, I didn’t hear if they caught the intruder,” one said.
“No place is safe anymore,” the other said. “I heard them patrolling half the night. I hope I can get some sleep tonight.”
“Me too. I’ve already had three cups of coffee. It’s barely keeping me awake and now it’s giving me heartburn.”
They continued their conversation as they made their way up the stairs. Then the lights to the cellar were extinguished, and all was quiet once again.
I had to feel my way around to get back to my room, which wasn’t overly difficult. Last night hadn’t been my first time sleeping in the stored furniture grotto; I’d hidden from a drunken Master Ramsey before. He didn’t seem to hold those times against me like any other type of open defiance. Perhaps he just didn’t remember them.
My room should’ve had light coming from the broken window, but was just as dark as the rest of the cellar. I pulled the string for my overhead light and found the broken window had been boarded up from the outside, glass shards still littering the floor.
I pulled the curtain for the second window and discovered it boarded up as well. There, the glass was still intact but it was still covered with plywood on the outside.
My room had never felt so much like a prison. I started to consider I may not be leaving after all. At least Mina would be happy if that were the case.
I defiantly wore my one pair of shoes as I cleaned up the glass. The last thing I nee
ded was glass embedded in my slowly healing feet.
Before I could finish, the intercom on the wall crackled and a tiny voice came through. “Are you coming up for breakfast?” The voice was Mina’s.
I glanced over at the clock and hadn’t realized how late it was—how much I’d slept in. I ran over to the intercom and pressed the button. “I’ll be right there.”
It wasn’t like the rest of the kitchen staff couldn’t help them, but I was expected to be there every morning to help out. I didn’t want any more trouble. I didn’t worry about wearing the same dress as the day before, and went out of my room, across the cellar and up the stairs.
Chapter 10
I passed through the formal dining room and greeted the family on my way to the kitchen. Master Ramsey wasn’t present at the table.
“Victoria, wait,” Lady Ramsey said. “Come join us.”
I stopped and turned. “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure,” she said. “Come. Sit.”
I didn’t know what to think, but certainly wasn’t going to argue. I pulled out a chair next to Mina, and as I sat down, I noticed the shoes I was still wearing. I glanced nervously around, but no one else seemed to have seen them. Johanna was talking about a new boy she’d met and Mina kept chiming in with the latest things she’d learned in her riding lessons. Lady Ramsey had to split her attention between the two chattering girls.
I sat down and smiled, making sure to adjust my posture like the Governess constantly reiterated. I crossed my legs at the ankles and tucked my feet under the chair.
There were already assortments of breads, pastries, meats, and cheeses in the middle of the table along with pitchers of juice and water.
Bertha came over and asked if I wanted tea or coffee? I always made coffee for myself, but her asking suddenly made the decision a whole lot harder.
“I’ll take an Earl Grey tea,” I said because it sounded fancier than coffee and it was a day for a change. I needed to try something new.
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