by Sky Sommers
‘I am at a disadvantage, Kitty-Cat. You know my name. May I enquire about yours?’
I fluttered my eyelashes at him, ‘Isn’t the whole point of a masque that guests remain incognito?’
He laughed again and admitted, ‘Touché. When I learnt that Maman intends to find me a bride in a sea of masks! I can’t even imagine how…’
I nodded, ‘Perhaps she wants you to get to know the charming personalities of a few ladies with propriety being observed before you make your pick…or damage the reputation of a lady by first pursuing and then abandoning her?’
That seemed to make him pause. ‘I never thought of it like that. But still, what is the likelihood that I pick a girl and she turns out to be butt-ugly and I will be loath to let her go just on account of her charming personality? I think Maman would like a pretty face painted next to mine. I don’t think she has invited the uglies.’
‘Well, sometimes pretty is overrated,’ I told him, thinking back to how being pretty hadn’t helped me with Betty, quite the contrary. ‘Besides, if your arm-candy has brains, wouldn’t that be a bonus when you’re ruling the kingdom someday?’
The prince chuckled, ‘Touché again, Kitty-Cat. Well, if you won’t give me your name, would you at least grant me a dance?’
I extended my hand and he whisked me into a waltz. When he manoeuvred us into the ballroom, everyone turned to stare. I was thankful I didn’t hear any of them. No intense connections with anyone in this crowd. Thank the gods. Except Grace. I tried to drown out her swearing and offensive thoughts I could hear loud and clear from the palace kitchens. Which was strange. Either she was telegraphing her mental displeasure very loudly or my powers are growing.
Anyway, Nick dances like a dream! Like I knew he would.
It helped that Three Rocking Pigs could play a decent waltz, of course. Who knew, right?
During our waltz, he tried whispering sweet nothings to me, but after John, I found out that I’m immune to sweet nothings. That seemed to trouble him. I think it also egged on his hunting instinct, since he vowed to devote an entire evening to me, to get to know me better.
I think I might have blurted out something to the extent of ‘An ENTIRE evening! Wow! Is that how long your affairs last?’
His face darkened and he stopped mid-dance. I stumbled backwards from the spin and apologised if I had offended him in any way. I also told him that I wasn’t looking for devotion for just one evening, but for many interesting evenings to spend with someone who is kind and generous and committed. He cocked his head and told me that I had ‘just become interesting’. He also said I could call him ‘Char’.
I couldn’t help it. AGAIN. It’s like his taunts brought out my contrary side. Or maybe it was the mask lending me audacity, but I had to ask if it was ‘Char’ like Charcoal or if to add his family name, then Charming Beast.
He threatened to have me beheaded or thrown into the dungeons for a few days. I laughed in his face and told him that he didn’t know WHOM to behead or stick in the dungeons since I never showed him my invitation and he didn’t know who I was. I continued calling him Your Highness, but he said it was unfair, because he has already given me a nick-name and that he deserves one as well. I corrected him that I didn’t particularly care for ‘Kitty-Cat’. He tried to trick me into giving away my age by asking if I found school taxing. I called him on it and dubbed him Loki, the Norse trickster god. He declined, saying he could never be devious and begged me to come up with a better nickname. I told him that if he had a lion’s body, he would be Sphinx, but he said riddles bore him and told me to try again. So, mustering up my courage, I looked him straight in the eye and said, ‘Very well, if you don’t want to be a god, I will call you Nick.’ Seeing him blink, I added, ‘…If I may, Your Highness.’
‘Nick…ok. But just tonight, Kitty-Cat.’
Cringing, I nodded.
‘If you don’t like Kitty-Cat, what shall I call you? You seem to like gods and mythical creatures. Are you a goddess of peace? A goddess of harmony? Or discord?’
Since he asked nicely, I acquiesced and let him settle on Greek Adrestia, the daughter of Ares and Aphrodite, keeper of the balance between good and evil. He shortened it to Addy. I didn’t mind.
In between twirls, he told me again, ‘Addy, you are not like other girls.’
‘Ladies of the court, you mean.’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I haven’t been to court. It’s my first time. I was terrified to come. I thought I’d stumble and fall on my face or bumble up my greeting or something like that.’
Nicholas threw his head back and laughed, ‘You know, I think most people here are afraid of the exact same thing and yet you are the only one honest enough to admit it out loud. I like that.’
‘You like me bumbling my thoughts out loud?’
‘I like honesty.’
I pointed at our masks, ‘Disguises don’t seem all that honest to me.’
‘Oh, that. That’s just a bit of fluff and decoration. Everyone here knows who half the people here are. We see them every week and they don’t try to hide their true identities. Rather, the costumes they have chosen fit their personalities quite well. There are a few dozen invitees from the nobility who we see once in a blue moon. But you…I don’t know who you are and I must admit, I do like the mystery.’
I stopped mid-dance and held out my hand, ‘Hi, I’m Addie. For tonight only. And I’m definitely honest about that.’
He laughed again and swept me up in another waltz. ‘I don’t think you’re here to impress me or the king or my mother, are you?’
‘I can’t say I’m just here for the food, which is amazing, but let me tell you why I’m really here,’ I motioned for him to lean closer and he did.
‘I am here to have a good time,’ I told him and winked.
Nicholas looked at me quizzically and continued twirling me. ‘Not to find a husband? Or perhaps even ensnare a prince? If you find me wanting, there are a few other dignitaries I could introduce you to...’
‘Trying to get rid of me already? Oh, very well. Then it’s time for me to go.’
‘Don’t,’ he whispered and squeezed my hand. ‘I like you…r company.’
It was the genuine smile that caught me off guard. It caught him off guard as well.
We danced and danced and danced and people were casting us long looks, but I didn’t care.
Still, in about an hour, Nicholas apologised profusely and said he had to dance with at least one or two other ladies as well, otherwise the Queen would have his head. In mid-stride, he turned and asked if I could wait for him.
Except he didn’t wait for an answer, so he really wasn’t asking. He was telling me to stay and wait while he goes and has a merry old time.
Since my reply was inconsequential, I decided to leave instead of watching him being pawed at by all the ladies. I had had my dance. Ten, actually and even a decent conversation. My first ball would be a lovely memory.
When I was putting on my cloak, a guard stopped me and told me someone wanted to have a word in the library. Out of curiosity, I followed him. Who would want to talk to me?
Just as I was about to pull the huge double doors of the library open, someone sneaked up on me. When I squealed, a hand came over my mouth, I was told to shush and when I struggled to free myself, I came nose-to-nose with Nicholas! He grabbed my hand and pulled us behind a huge flower vase. He was holding me tight and kept his hand over my mouth. I was deciding whether to bite him or not and started giggling, earning another shushing. When the palace guards had gone past, he dragged me through the halls to ‘see his sword collection’. I was laughing all the way until I realised we has entered…his bedroom. Seeing my discomfort, he did show me the actual swords foreign dignitaries keep gifting him. They were mounted on his walls. Nicholas offered me wine and when we heard the door swish shut, we
discovered that one of the servants had sneaked us one piece of Grace’s amazing chocolate cake and left it on the settee table by the bed. Of course, we shared it!
Somehow, the very intimate act of sharing food turned…very sensual. His grey eyes were watching my mouth as I ate, while I couldn’t take my eyes off his arched lips. Time stood still. I could faintly hear the music in the ballroom downstairs. When I lifted my hand to wipe a small smudge from the corner of his mouth, he took my hand and kissed my palm. And then my wrist. And my elbow. And I let him, giggling all the way. The kisses were so light and feathery. For a second I did think I have been down this road before, but then his mouth was on mine and he tasted so sweet. Like chocolate cake! Nothing like... Soon I was the one kissing his eyes and cheeks and mouth while sitting in his lap. Strangely, I felt no shame. I felt free! The dress felt too hot. So we dispensed with it. But I kept my mask on. Somehow, it made me feel like I was the one in control. Nicholas tried to remove it and I slapped his hand away. Both times. Somewhere along the way Nicholas had got rid of his shirt and he does look…OMG, he is SO well built. Everywhere. I don’t know what came over me…over us, but his caresses were so gentle and he looked me in the eyes and asked if this was ok and the bed felt so comfortable and... Unlike my first time, Nicholas made the...experience…sensual. He made sure I was enjoying it, stroking me, planting feathery kisses on my stomach and...below. Asking me what I wanted, where I wanted to be touched. When he entered me, I didn’t feel any pain, but he stopped nevertheless and asked if I was alright. I didn’t realise I had said I wanted him until I heard the words come out of my mouth. He gently rocked us into a rhythm and I…it felt...wonderful. I kept thinking, if this is what marital bliss is, I’m never getting out of bed. We’re never getting out of bed.
It was only later that I realised there isn’t going to be a ‘we’.
I’d slept with the Crown Prince! That’s not what potential brides do. The best I could hope for was an offer to be his mistress. Oh gods…
When I woke up, it was past midnight. The palace was quiet. The ball was over. Everyone had gone home! I panicked. I was in bed with the Crown Prince! Nick was even more gorgeous when he slumbered. Although the gentle snoring noises slightly eroded the charm. What would the morning bring? Would he wake up and throw me out? Would he expect me to be his mistress now that we’ve...
I kept thinking, how could I have gotten carried away like this? Yet again. He was so easy to talk to. He made me laugh. I was enamoured of the idea of him before, so when the real person turned out to be as good and kind and funny as I imagined, his attention sucked me in, hook, line and sinker.
For a brief moment, I thought about remaining there until the wee hours of the morning. Let Nick wake up and decide what the right thing to do was. I doubted he thought like John, but a nagging voice in my head kept saying: what if? John’s words kept ringing, ‘Aristo boys marry virgins, didn’t you know?’ I doubt princes marry anything less. And it’s not like he deflowered me. So he has no compulsion to marry me. There is no future for us. Why would he marry the stepdaughter of his father’s mistress anyway?
At least he did me one huge favour. Thanks to him I now know procreation can and should be…pleasurable.
Quietly, I gathered up my things, noticing I had a gash on my thigh. Probably from a scratchy dress ornament. I kissed Nick on the nose and slipped out of the palace, feeling the tears start as I left my dream behind.
But the worst bit…
Grace saw me when I came home. I felt out of sorts. Not regretting anything, but not feeling amazing either. When I saw her in the kitchen, I wanted to cry. But not in front of HER! Instead, I mustered the remnants of my composure and told her the truth. That in the end, I had not particularly enjoyed myself. The dancing and the mind-melting relations - very. The resulting predicament of being a royal mistress and never the wife - not so much.
Monday, June 10th
I know I’ve said this before, but… now, my life truly IS over.
Why does this keep happening to me?
My flow should have started a few days after the ball. It’s been ten days and it hasn’t.
Well, at least it’s Nick’s.
What am I saying. I can’t keep it… He’s the Crown Prince and I’m nobody.
What if I told him? Would he do the honourable thing?
He liked me. I liked the way he made me laugh and in person, he seemed to be kind and warm and not at all how I thought princes or aristo boys are. And we were phenomenal in bed.
Yes, but like or lust is not love. If I tell him, he will doubtlessly think I was trying to ensnare him on purpose, which I wasn’t. If he thinks that, there is no way he will consider marriage.
What will he do to me?
At best, he will laugh in my face and tell me to get rid of it, like John did. He’s our future king. ‘Problems’ like these get handled for him. And swiftly.
Oh gods, I can’t tell him. I’m on my own.
Again.
What can I do?
It’s Nick’s and he’s lovely and maybe when the child grows up we might meet again and then he might reconsider…
Who am I fooling? It’s his 18th birthday. Queen Belle is finding him a bride right now. In a few years he’ll be married with kids of his own. Why would he ever want to legitimise or even get to know his bastard? Nobody publicly acknowledges Grace. Only in passing rumours.
But it’s the second time already. Should I keep it?
I can just imagine what Grace or Father would say if I told them.
Grace would throw me out on my ear. I’ll be penniless, pregnant and gods know where I will end up.
Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…
What will become of me now?
If I hadn’t fallen asleep, if I had got home earlier, I could have used that contraption of Grizelda’s to…clean myself. My herb supply is gone…
That’s it! Herbs, I need herbs!
I have to gather whatever supplies I can carry, leave the kingdom and find a new witch! Tonight! Or else the palace guards will get me.
How did I arrive here? Yesterday, I was in school, popular, heartbroken, but hopeful that my future will work out. Today...
On my way to Girzelda’s hut I kept thinking how could this have happened. Again. And considering where I was going, if I do this again, would I ever be able to have children afterwards. Then it occurred to me that I had used the herbs after John and considering my predicament now… So, if it’s the herbs, I’m not robbing myself of a chance to be a mother.
Then it hit me that I was going to deny a second child of mine the right to live. My steps slowed. Yes, I hadn’t wanted John’s progeny for various reasons. Having to endure his slobbering kisses and bumbling premature…ugh. In Ailmsworth John had only been after a good time and had told me that pathetic introduction and potential proposal story to lure me there. I can’t believe I fell for his ‘proposal’ gimmick not once, but twice!
It had also been manifestly stupid of me to follow Mellie’s advice and try and entice Simon to be a stand-in daddy. I didn’t want Simon any more than I wanted John. Not after he showed his true colours.
So, I thought long and hard about what I wanted. Gods know, it was a long enough walk for that kind of thinking.
I realised, if I could have what I wanted, I wouldn’t want any of the school boys Mellie was pushing me to pick and marry. If I could have what I want…I wanted Nick.
I might have stopped dead in my tracks at that realisation, but I didn’t turn back. Somehow, my feet kept going forward of their own accord.
Nick had been my dream since forever. And then, in person he had turned out to be even more handsome that I imagined and he had been…nice. And knowledgeable in the bedroom. If I had stayed, he probably would have offered me to be his mistress. Which would have been on his terms. I thought what if…. Could
I have this relationship on my terms? Somehow I doubted it. Everybody in this kingdom of ours expects girls to be wed before we are bedded. Unmarried young girls who get in the family way are either married off quickly and not necessarily to their lovers, but to old leches who want young tasty grateful morsels attending to their every whim, including in the bedroom - yuk! No, if I let slip that I’m carrying Nick’s child, I would probably be forced to give it up and be married off to some old fart while Nick has the pick of any belle he wants. I never thought how unfair double standards were until they applied to me. I’m sure Nick is expected to marry the princess of a neighbouring kingdom, no matter how many kids he sires with whoever before. Or after.
If I can’t have Nick, what’s the point?
So, I convinced myself that I have to go through with…things…the second time…to avoid being married off to some old lech. I doubt there is any truth to the rumour about Grace being the king’s half sister. Even if Grace is a princess, I’m not. We are not related by blood. And princes only ever marry princesses, right?
With these dire thoughts I reached Grizelda’s hut and saw that it had sprouted legs. Chicken legs, to be precise. I climbed the roped stairs. Since I was still shaken by the sight of those awful legs, I wasn’t looking where I was going and hit my head on the doorframe again. Massaging the sore spot, I asked Grizelda if she knew her hut had legs. She said she did and that the legs had grown after one of Grace’s visits. I knew it! That woman’s a witch, too.
‘I wondered why Belle had that thing installed when the prince turned fifteen and started having relations,’ Grizelda’s beady eyes looked me up and down as she nodded at the blue light blinking on her door jamb. ’The first time you were here, the light was green, so I didn’t need to worry. Now I do.’
‘Blue, green, whatever.’ Then it registered what she said, ‘Nicholas started having relations at fifteen?!?’
That’s why he is such a good lover?!?
Ignoring my outburst, she continued, ‘I can’t help you, Ella. Not this time. That thing over there,’ she nodded at the blue light, ‘is not ‘whatever’. it’s quite serious. That thing has already scanned your drop of blood,’ only then did I notice my fingers were sticky, ‘and since that light turned blue and not green, it’s a royal child you’re carrying. Belle will have me put to death. Burnt, hanged, drawn AND quartered, if I help any girl get rid of royal offspring. Her words, not mine.’