Meanwhile, I finally began to adjust to my new routine. Five days after I had arrived, when I dropped the princesses off with Gretchen, I realised I felt far too awake to retreat to my alcove for a nap. I decided to take a walk outside. It would be nice to enjoy the gardens without fear of the twins’ adventuring. But when I pushed the heavy front door open, I saw that it had begun to rain. I sighed with frustration and let the door swing back shut.
I leaned with my back against it and gazed at the entry hall, not really seeing it. I could go back to the princesses’ suite but the idea of being shut in the bedroom for the next three hours made me feel claustrophobic. If I went to the kitchen I could be sure of finding company but I realised I wasn’t in the mood for listening to the idle conversation of the kitchen maids or the under-gardeners who were sure to be there, sheltering from the rain. I wouldn’t mind a good gossip with Mathilde but she would be up in the gallery, cleaning one of the suites at this hour. I sighed again. There was a beautiful sitting room in the East Wing but, without the twins, I felt uncomfortable about intruding into the rooms of the royal family.
I was about to give up and go to the kitchen after all, when my brain finally absorbed what I was seeing. There was light coming from behind the grand stairway – daylight – despite the lack of windows on the far side of the hall. I pushed myself away from the door and began to walk towards the stairs and, for once, instead of starting to ascend, I went around them.
Somehow, I had never explored back here before. The twins hadn’t included it in their initial tour and since they were always in a hurry, we tended to rush through the hall on our way to our destination. So it was with considerable surprise that I found an open doorway, hidden in the wall directly behind the staircase.
I stepped through the door and my surprise grew. I was in a large room, the largest I had seen in the castle so far. But it was hard to judge the exact size because most of the room was obscured by rows of tall bookshelves. I walked through the aisle of books directly in front of the door and came out into an open space that ran the whole length of the room. It was lined with bay windows and several small tables and strategically placed armchairs were scattered around. My intense focus on the girls was the only excuse I could find for my failure to notice this room during my exploration of the gardens. It seemed obvious now that something must lie behind the entry hall.
My delight grew as I gazed around at all the books. So much knowledge in one place! I breathed in deeply and smiled at the smell of paper, leather and that indefinable ‘book’ smell. If every book I had ever seen in my whole life were placed together they would fill only one of these bookshelves. What a perfect place and what a perfect answer to the question of where to spend my free hours. Each of the windows had a small but comfortable looking bench, lined with cushions. I could foresee many happy hours spent curled in a window, reading.
I turned back eagerly towards the bookshelves and began to scan them. The books seemed to be arranged by topic and I walked down several aisles trailing my fingers along the spines of the books before I stopped and pulled out a book on economics. Listening to the king and queen converse over every meal had forced me to acknowledge some shortcomings in my education. I had been completely lost at dinner the night before when they had discussed some recent changes in the trade policy of one of our neighbouring kingdoms.
I was determined not to waste this opportunity. I would study each day and listen at each meal and maybe by the end of winter I would be a little more equipped for life in a big city. I turned back towards the windows and passed a section of fairy tales. My eye was drawn to a small volume with gold lettering down the spine. I smiled and picked it up as well. Perhaps, if I read a chapter of economics, I could reward myself with a story. After all, I reminded myself, fairy tales were research too. And more relevant to my role of Companion than economics. I smiled at my internal justifications. These hours were my own and I could spend them how I liked. My mother wasn’t here and I had no governess to call me to task for spending my time reading fiction when I should be studying.
Carrying both books, I moved towards one of the windows. But before I reached it, I heard a slight sound and glanced up. Across the room my eyes locked with those of the prince. I must have been very absorbed in my wonder at the library to fail to notice there was someone else in the room. The prince was sitting in one of the windows, holding a book. My presence seemed to have disturbed his reading and I wondered how long he had been watching me.
Several thoughts raced through my head in quick succession. I wondered if the library was only for the use of the royal family and whether I had violated some unknown rule by taking books from the shelves. Then I wondered why the prince was looking at me so intently. Since that first breakfast he had carefully avoided looking in my direction and had sat in silence at every meal. If I was careful not to look at him, I could almost forget he was there. But now he was back to staring at me.
And then he put his book down beside him and leapt from the window. And as he walked towards me I realised that I was, for the first time, alone with him. He wasn’t glaring at me, in fact I could read no anger in his face at all, but I felt a flutter of nerves nevertheless. My feet and hands suddenly felt large and clumsy and I froze in place. As he got closer, I raised the books I was holding and hugged them against my chest, a meagre shield.
He didn’t stop or speak until he was right in front of me.
“What have you got there?” he asked, holding out his hands for my books. Reluctantly I handed them over, feeling exposed. He stood in silence for a moment, reading the titles. Finally he looked up and smiled but I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be friendly or mocking.
“Economics, hey?” he said. “A strange topic of study for a Princess Companion. So you were listening last night, after all. I thought so.” I stared at him in surprise. I could have sworn he hadn’t so much as glanced at me all night.
“Do you have a problem with that?” I asked, sick of his strangely antagonistic attitude.
“No, Princess Companion, I don’t,” he replied and again I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me.
“My name is Alyssa, as you very well know,” I snapped, determined to fight the out of control feeling he gave me.
“Well, Alyssa,” he placed a scathing emphasis on my name, “just because you’ve been welcomed into our family fold, don’t get ideas above your station.” He held up the book of fairy tales. “This is more fitting subject matter for you.”
“Look, Max,” I replied, “I don’t know why I offend you so much or why you can’t seem to stand the sight of me but I’ve never done anything to you. Don’t you think you could at least try to give me a chance?” I was no longer nervous, instead I felt invigorated by my anger and by the shocked surprise on his face.
“You haven’t offended me,” he said after a long pause. Now I was the one feeling surprised. It wasn’t the reaction I’d been expecting after my intentionally offensive use of his nickname.
“Really? I suppose it’s totally normal for you to spend every meal in complete silence, staring at your food.” I raised both eyebrows at him.
“It’s not that I’m offended, it’s just…” he trailed off. I waited for him to continue but he stood there silently. I decided to try a change of tack, softening my voice and expression.
“I didn’t ask for this job but I’m trying my best for your sisters. And I don’t think it’s the best thing for them to have their Companion and their brother not even on speaking terms. So if I promise that I’ll continue to do my best for them, and that I won’t take advantage of your family in any way, do you think you can try to aim for some basic courtesy towards me?” He continued to stand there in silence.
“Even if you have to pretend?” This sally made him smile so I smiled back and held out my hand. “Truce?”
“I’ll tell you what,” he replied, leaving my hand hanging. “If you agree to keep calling me Max from now on, I’ll agree to a truc
e. You can have all the courtesy you want.” His smile had gotten bigger and he seemed to read agreement in the surprise on my face.
“A truce then, Alyssa.” This time when he said my name it was soft, almost like a caress. Before I could think of anything to say, he had turned and walked away, chuckling to himself.
I just stood there, in a daze. What had just happened? But I could make no sense of his mood swings. As for his soft voice, saying my name, I decided it would be best if I never thought about that again. Best for my mental health that is.
Without consciously thinking about it, I found my feet leading me over to the window seat where he had been sitting. I picked up the book he had left there. Diplomatic Relations and the Impacts of Foreign Trade Policy. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had felt out of depth listening to the dinner conversation. I climbed up onto the seat he had vacated but just sat there smiling. It was a long time before I opened a book.
Chapter 6
Having forbidden myself to think about it, it was only natural that I went to sleep that night and woke up the next morning to a soft voice in my mind, calling me Alyssa. I had no idea what sort of behaviour to expect from… Max from now on. Even in my head it felt disrespectful to address a royal prince as simply Max so I tried saying it over and over again in the quietest of whispers. Max. Max. Max. Max. There, that had had the right level of comfortable nonchalance.
I climbed out of bed, surprised to be awake before the twins for once, but when I came out of the bathroom they were both up and clamouring for a game before breakfast. The bedtime story last night had been about a beautiful princess who had been trapped by her godmother in a tall tower without doors. She had been locked up because of the arrogant unconcern she showed after one of her imperious orders had caused a young baker’s daughter to be crippled. The tower was cold and bare and without comforts. Every day someone different would call to the princess to let down her long hair. The visitor would then climb into the tower to deliver food and water for the day. If she behaved towards her visitor with concern and courtesy, a new comfort would appear in the tower. If she behaved with arrogance, one would disappear. But her godmother had told her that she would only be freed when she learnt true compassion.
Sophie had asked if the princess had ever got out of the tower but I had told her that was a story for another day. Lily had said nothing but had lain awake long after she would normally have fallen asleep. However, if my story had had an impact there was no evidence of it this morning. Both girls were bouncing around, far too awake for this hour of the morning, demanding new ideas for a game with their usual levels of energy. Wanting to remind them of the lesson from the night before, I suggested that they enact the story of the princess in the tower with their dolls. This suggestion found great favour and I was able to sit in peace for several minutes while they rushed around the room, finding a great many unlikely things to pile on top of their dollhouse. Only after their ‘tower’ had reached a satisfactory height did Sophie notice my abstraction.
“What’s the matter, Alyssa,” she asked.
“Nothing,” I replied, rousing myself from my thoughts with difficulty.
“Well, what were you thinking about?” asked Lily.
I could hardly tell them I was thinking about their brother and wondering for the hundredth time how he would behave towards me at breakfast, so I tried to look stern.
“Adult things.” I had a proper look at their creation and had to laugh. “I think you’d better pay a bit more attention to your ‘tower’,” I said. “It looks like it’s about to fall down. I don’t remember that happening in the story.”
With a shriek both girls rushed towards the dollhouse and the precarious stack on top of it. I decided they might need a little help with their engineering and the three of us spent the rest of the time until breakfast making the structure stable enough to hold their dolls at the top.
Consequently we were a little late for breakfast and when we entered the room it was to see the king and queen with nearly empty plates. The prince had apparently already finished because he was standing beside the buffet serving himself seconds. He looked up when we entered and smiled.
“Good morning, girls.” His sisters nodded at him vaguely as they rushed to grab their plates so I cleared my throat loudly. They paused just long enough to get out a “good morning Max, good morning Mother, good morning Father,” before resuming their rush towards the food. I looked back towards the prince and forgot my awkwardness in a moment of shared amusement. He stepped closer to me and spoke quietly.
“Good morning, Alyssa.”
“Good morning,” I replied, considering leaving the greeting there. But his eyes were altogether too aware, challenging me to keep up my end of the bargain, so I added, “Max” even more quietly than him. Judging from his expression, my response had given him great satisfaction, although whether this came from my use of his name or my hesitation I wasn’t sure.
I quickly filled my own plate with breakfast and took my usual seat. When I refocused on the room, it was to hear Max and his father discussing some proposed improvements to the stables. Queen Eleanor was looking on with a pleased smile. I guessed I wasn’t the only one who had noticed Max’s previous mealtime silence. By the time they had finished their conversation, Max had also finished his second plate of breakfast.
“I’ll go find the carpenter and give him those instructions then. If you don’t need me this morning,” he paused and his father shook his head, “I might stay and watch.” As he reached for the door, a sudden idea popped into my head.
“Max, wait,” I said without thinking and every head in the room swiveled in my direction. King Henry and Queen Eleanor looked startled at my presumption and turned their attention to their son, waiting for the expected explosion. But he merely smiled politely.
“Yes, Alyssa?” he asked. “Is there something I can do for you while I’m out at the stables?”
“Yes,” I replied, “yes, there is.” I got up and went over to him, making my request in a quiet voice. Only Max and the queen were close enough to hear me and they both smiled and glanced towards the twins. As soon as Max had left the room the girls spoke over the top of each other.
“What is it, Alyssa?”
“What do you want Max to do in the stables?”
“Not in the stables exactly,” I replied, “and I’m not telling.”
Both girls looked indignant and Lily turned towards her mother so I quickly added, “it’s a surprise. For you.”
If I had thought this information would silence them, I soon learnt my mistake. The only silver lining was that their continual chatter distracted the family from the unexpected change in behaviour between the prince and me.
By the time I dropped them off with Gretchen, however, even this silver lining had worn thin.
“One more word from either of you about this surprise and I won’t give it to you after all.”
“You wouldn’t!” declared Lily.
“Just try me.”
I met her eyes steadily and she frowned but remained silent. As I walked towards the library I decided to view this as a success. If nothing else, the twins had learnt that I wasn’t a safe person to cross. I meant what I said and, unlike Nanny, would stick to my ‘no’.
When I reached the library door, I paused, wondering if I would find the prince inside. Then I remembered that he was planning to spend the morning down at the stables and I felt a curious mixture of disappointment and relief. After everything that had happened, some space and silence would be refreshing. I picked up the book on economics from the table where I had left it but decided there was simply no space in my mind for new and difficult concepts. Instead it was the book of fairy tales that I carried over to the window. A beam of sunlight was shining in, warming the seat. I smiled, a couple of hours of quiet indulgence was just what I needed to calm my mind.
At lunch, Max replied to my questioning look with a smile and a nod which I took to mean
he had had success with my request. I was pleased, excited to think that my first initiative might meet with success. After the meal, while the twins were being grilled on their lessons by the king, I cornered him by the door.
“Thanks for carrying my message,” I said. “Did he mind? He must have a lot of work already with your project in the stables.”
“No, he didn’t mind at all. He said it might take a few days, though. He’ll work on it in the evenings.”
“Oh, alright,” I tried not to let my disappointment show. Patience wasn’t my strong suit. “When it’s finished could you make sure you bring it to me when the twins are in lessons? I’ll be in the library.”
“Still studying up on economics?” he grinned.
“Oh, economics. And all sorts of other subjects inappropriate for a Princess Companion,” I replied, testing him.
“It’s becoming increasingly clear to me that you’re not an ordinary Princess Companion,” he said and then turned around and left the room, leaving me to wrestle with whether or not this was a compliment.
The question of what, exactly, was behind the rather cryptic things Max said to me occupied my mind off and on over the next few days. Luckily I had plenty of distraction from both the princesses and the increasingly complex saga of Mathilde’s love life. I had told Mathilde about my reading sessions and every morning since she’d turned up to ‘clean the library’ while I was there. Consequently I had a good chat to look forward to each morning to break up my reading. Occasionally I felt a twinge of guilt that I was distracting Mathilde from her work but the cheery unconcern with which she dismissed my worries convinced me that I was over scrupulous.
“He hasn’t asked me to walk for a week.”
The Princess Companion: A Retelling of The Princess and the Pea (The Four Kingdoms Book 1) Page 6