Glass Castle Prince

by Nicole Williams

  He pushed his sleeves up past his elbows, checking his watch. “He’s proud because he believes I’ll agree to become king.”

  I made a face. “He’s proud because you’re his son.”

  His mouth opened as if to argue, but he seemed to change his mind mid-thought. “And has the news calmed down any? Has everyone gotten their fill of learning about our relationship?”

  My head tipped side-to-side. “Which relationship are you talking about? The one your mom is pretending we have, or the actual one you and I have?”

  “Take your pick.”

  The chair creaked when I leaned back into it. “The public is definitely not over the shock, surprise, or speculation of it. In fact, I think they’re only getting warmed up.” My hand went to my stomach when I felt a cramp from either indigestion or nausea. That’s what chowing down a full-size candy bar in three bites does to a digestive system. “And your mom is still very much under the assumption we will be breaking up the week after you return. I think she already has the press release written and ready to go. Prince Edward and Charlotte Everly End Relationship Amicably Due to Incompatible Differences.”

  He rubbed at the scruff along his jaw. “You got my message about the Coronation Ball the night I get back?”

  “I’m wondering if I should wear my glass slippers.”

  His chest moved as he shook his head. “No. Because you won’t be running away from this prince at this ball.”

  “I’m not really a royal ball type of girl.”

  “You’re my girl, and as a royal, I’d love for you to be at my side. Suffering right along with me.” He took a drink of his coffee, waiting for my answer.

  “So if there’s a Coronation Ball, that means you’ve decided?” The chair creaked when I shifted. “You’re ready to become king?”

  Edward’s gaze drifted to the side, his shoulders moving as he breathed. His eyes found mine again. “I’m ready.”

  “Twenty-two and king,” I said, tacking on a sigh. “You really set the bar impossibly high for all the rest of us confused millennials.”

  His smile went higher on one side. “Just taking over the family business. No different.”

  “Just the slight one of you overseeing the entire country,” I said, waving it off like it was no big deal.

  A voice in the background called for him. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement, checking his watch. I could tell from the way his shoulders dropped that he had to go. “Charlotte? Don’t worry about my mother and whatever schemes she might have for us. We’ll show her how it’s going to be.”

  I waited for him to explain. He stayed quiet though.

  “How’s it going to be, Edward?”

  “However we want it to be.” He lifted his hand again when someone stuck their head inside his tent, calling for him.

  I wanted to say more, to clarify what that meant, but he had more important things to do than dissect the future of our relationship with me over satellite.

  “You’ve got to go,” I said, putting on a cheerful face. “Thank you for calling. It was nice to see your face. I might have forgotten what it looked like if there wasn’t some portrait or canvas of you hanging from every other wall in this place.”

  His eyes lifted. “Only child syndrome.”

  I blinked at him. “Future king syndrome maybe too.”

  He laughed softly, rolling his neck as he opened his mouth. “Charlotte, I wanted to tell you—”

  “Prince Edward,” the same voice interrupted, a figure ducking inside his tent entirely this time. “We really must leave right this minute.”

  Edward’s shoulders lowered with his exhale.

  “Until next time?” I said.

  “Always a next time.” His eyes locked on mine for a moment before the connection was cut.

  I stared at the black screen for a few minutes, imagining I was saying everything I wanted to and asking all of the questions I had for him. I imagined his answers, his gestures, the slant of his smile with the simpler questions and the line of his brow with the more difficult ones. At the end, I imagined we’d figured out everything and the ocean of uncertainties and challenges between us had evaporated to a puddle either one of us could cross with one step.

  Then I collected my things, along with the laptop, and left the office. As I’d anticipated, Mrs. Hutchinson was stationed outside the door—in the event I attempted to steal the laptop and sell it for drugs, no doubt. She was more outraged and offended by my relationship with the prince than the queen was, and it was clear the only way she’d ever take a liking to me was when I was six feet under.

  “Thank you,” I said, handing her the laptop and ignoring the way she stared at me as though she were willing me into nonexistence.

  “Prince Edward is supposed to marry Duchess Josephine, did you know that?” she said as I started down the hall.

  Her words stalled my efforts. “Last I checked, he’s a free man who gets to make his own choices.”

  Mrs. Hutchinson chuckled a few notes that were malignant in nature. “Others are free. He is the future king—his choices are made for him.”

  “I’m sure if he had plans on marrying someone else, he would have mentioned it to me.”

  “Would he? Why would he reveal his future to some nobody he was planning to sow the last of his wild oats with before settling down with a woman worthy of the title of queen?”

  Her words found their way past the invisible armor I’d built for myself since coming to the castle.

  “Why don’t you like me?” I asked quietly.

  “Because you’ve tarnished the name of a great man.” Her words were venom, filling the hall as though she didn’t care who heard. “Because you are undeserving and far-reaching. Because you fall short in every way a person can be measured. That is why I don’t like you.”

  “Ouch. Okay.” My tongue worked into my cheek as I made myself take a deep breath. “Glad we got that cleared up.”

  I continued down the hall, attempting to shake off the insults that had been flung at me, but more stuck than tumbled. Maybe that was because I knew half of what Mrs. Hutchinson had said was true.

  I had tarnished Edward; that I’d done so inadvertently didn’t matter. The rest? I didn’t know. Self-esteem had never been a struggle for me, but in the weeks since moving to the castle, that had changed. It was difficult to maintain a healthy self-image when the country viewed me as a trollop and most everyone in Edward’s inner circle was convinced I was some kind of gold-and title-digging nobody.

  Typically, I headed to the pool after finishing the day in the medical clinic, but tonight I was too tired to stay afloat for one lap, and my stomach was still bothering me. I veered off toward my room, not sure if I needed to head to my bed or the bathroom first.

  My phone pinged as I was kicking off my sneakers and about to collapse into my bed.

  “Friend!” I sighed and flopped onto the kind of bed one would imagine finding inside a royal castle. Huge, plush, probably stuffed with spools of gold thread, topped with bedding that felt like butter against my skin.

  “How’s castle life?” Anne asked.

  I frowned. “Not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Uh-oh.” The sound of Anne’s ancient desk chair creaked in the background. “What did Her Highness-slash-Tiger-Mother say now? Or was it that joy-snatcher of an old bitter woman, Mrs. Crankypants?”

  With a pillow, I covered half of my face in an attempt to block out life for a few minutes. “It’s more of a collective, all-encompassing pile of suck right now. Not sure I can pinpoint it on any one source.”

  “Those fairy tales really set us up for failure, didn’t they?”

  “You’re telling me,” I muttered.

  There was a soft knock at my door before we could lament reality versus fantasy any further.

  “Come in!” I called.

  “Hey. I’d like to have the use of my eardrums when I’m sixty, please and thank you,” Anne chided.

&
nbsp; “Sorry,” I said to her as the maid who’d been assigned to my room since my arrival stepped inside.

  “Can I bring you a tray of dinner, Miss Everly?” Sadie asked as she whisked to the windows, drawing the curtains one at a time.

  Usually I was starving by this hour, after a long day of work and a swim workout, but tonight, my stomach was not cooperating. “Not tonight, thanks.”

  Sadie’s expression read surprise. She’d probably been expecting me to order two desserts like I had been for the past couple of weeks. “Can I bring you something to drink then? Tea, perhaps?”

  On the other end of the phone, Anne mumbled something about it being nice to have someone to wait on me hand and foot. I ignored her.

  “Tea might sound good. I can’t decide.” My hand covered my stomach when another swell of sickness hit me. “Do you have something that might help a stomachache?”

  Sadie nodded, moving on to gathering my slippers and bathrobe from the antique mahogany armoire. “Stomach ache or upset?”

  “Is there a difference?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about me, I’m still here, waiting. Go ahead and take advantage of my free time and good nature.” Anne clucked her tongue at me through the phone.

  “If you’ve got a stomachache, peppermint tea will help. If it’s upset, then ginger tea’s a better option.” Sadie smoothed out my bathrobe once it was laid over the back of the high-back chair.

  My eyebrows pulled together. “I’m still confused over the difference.”

  Sadie cleared her throat. “How can I put this delicately . . .”

  “Please don’t,” I interjected.

  “Upset makes you feel like something’s going to explode out of your mouth.” Her hands fidgeted at her sides. “And a stomachache feels like it’s going to come out . . . the usual way. Pardon my vulgarity, Miss Everly.”

  On the other end, Anne burst out laughing, while poor Sadie’s cheeks went fire red.

  “That clears up everything,” I said, offering her a smile in hopes of easing her embarrassment. “Mine feels like something wants to projectile from my mouth, so I’ll take the ginger tea please.”

  Acknowledging me with a curt nod, she whisked out of the room so fast I felt a breeze.

  “Please tell me her face was as red as I’m picturing it,” Anne managed to get out through her laughter.

  “Redder,” I said, rolling onto my side to see if that helped my stomach any.

  “For a minute there, I was almost thinking the word anus was going to come out of her mouth. And then, my life would be complete.”

  “You’re perverse.” I whimpered when my stomach felt like it was folding in like an accordion.

  “Oh man. You really don’t feel good, do you?” Anne’s tone took an abrupt one-eighty.

  “I’ve definitely felt better.”

  “You’ve been having stomach problems all week,” she continued.

  “Nothing like tonight though.” My mind reeled when I thought of appendicitis. The appendix was on the lower right side . . . I prodded around that part of my abdomen, but my discomfort wasn’t isolated to any one area. It was more a general upset of the entire lower half of my stomach.

  “Hey, genius. Why don’t you take advantage of that doctor you spend all day with and have him give you a quick check-up tomorrow?” Anne said. “You said half a million bugs have been floating around that place, no doubt a crusty concentration of them trapped inside that office. You probably picked one up.”

  I drew my legs up to my chest and closed my eyes. This position seemed to help. “You’re probably right. I’ll talk with Dr. Fleming in the morning.”

  Anne was quiet for a minute. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m sure they’ve got someone in that castle who could check you out right this minute if you rung a bell or something.”

  I tucked part of the comforter over me. “All I want to do right now is sleep. Too tired for anything else.”

  “Okay, get some rest then. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, friend,” I yawned.

  “Any time, friend.”

  Chapter 20

  Staring out the window at the encroaching twilight, I saw a dull grayness to everything, a brittleness to the trees and grass. But soon, there’d be signs of life pushing through the hard ground, budding on the ends of branches, thinking about surging ahead.

  I felt the same way. Clinging to one season, yet being forced into the next page of life.

  The familiar soft knock echoed outside my door.

  “Come in,” I called, continuing to stare out the window as another sheet of darkness blanketed the horizon.

  “Is this a good time for me to help you get ready for tonight?” Sadie asked in her calm way.

  I checked my phone clutched in my hand one more time. No new messages after the last ones Edward and I had exchanged a couple of hours ago when he arrived at the castle.

  I turned away from the window. “Did you check . . .”

  “I checked again, Miss Everly, and he’s still with His Majesty, not to be interrupted.” Sadie headed toward the vanity, carrying something. “But don’t worry. You’ll be able to see him at the ball shortly.”

  I thumbed through the last messages Edward and I had exchanged.

  Me: I need to see you.

  Edward: I need to see you more.

  Me: Now?

  Edward: Soon. Important talk with my dad. Then I’m yours.

  Me: Before the ball? Hopefully?

  Edward: The second he and his advisors let me go. Promise.

  A few minutes went by before he sent another text.

  Edward: Everything okay?

  That was the last message between us. I’d started punching in a dozen responses but couldn’t bring myself to send one.

  “What’s that?” I asked, eyeing the garment Sadie had laid out at the foot of my bed.

  “Your ball gown, Miss—” When she caught the look I gave her, she paused. “Charlotte.”

  “This isn’t mine.” I studied the jade ball gown casting an array of colors based on how the light hit it.

  “The queen had it ordered for you, as she didn’t think you’d brought anything formal.” Sadie smoothed out a fold in the skirt, smiling at the dress as though she’d sewn each stitch herself.

  “I was planning on wearing my black sheath.” I indicated the simple dress I had hanging outside the armoire.

  She laid out brushes and hair pins on my vanity before scooting the bench out for me to sit on. “You’re free to wear whatever you like, of course, but I should warn you that the only people showing up in knee-length attire will be a few diplomats from the north in kilts.”

  My teeth worked at my lip as I gave the ball gown another appraisal. “How do we know it will fit me?”

  “The queen makes the waitstaff use a ruler to lay out the dinner setting. Do you really think she’d leave anything to chance when ordering a dress for her son’s sweetheart?”

  I bit back a sardonic laugh. As far as the staff knew, Edward and I were a couple that the king and queen supported.

  After taking a seat at the vanity, I let her untangle my hair from the messy ponytail I’d gathered it into early that morning. If I was expected to be at this ball, I might as well utilize Sadie’s help. If left to my own devices, I’d wind up looking like I’d let a five-year-old style my hair and makeup.

  “Not so tight, please.” I gasped as Sadie cinched up the back of the gown after finishing my hair and makeup.

  “I’ve hardly tightened it,” she replied, adjusting the corseting slightly.

  “The most restrictive thing I wear are toe socks. This dress feels like it’s suffocating me.” I pinched at the material puckering at my waist. “And I’m fairly certain the queen ordered it a size too small.”

  Sadie peeked her head around, examining my reflection in the floor-length mirror I stood in front of. “It fits perfectly. And you look stunning.” She finished adjusting the ties
. “Is that better?”

  I took a breath. “Yeah. I can mostly fill and release my lungs, so we’re making progress.”

  “Is there anything else I can do?” Sadie stepped aside, examining her work with a careful eye. A satisfied nod followed her inspection.

  “Wish me luck?”

  She whisked toward the door. “Best of luck, Miss . . . Charlotte.”

  Once she’d left, I took a minute to compose myself, checking my phone once more. The ball either had already or was about to start, which meant Edward and King Henry’s meeting must have wrapped up by now.

  I needed to see him. I couldn’t wait any longer.

  Checking my reflection, I discovered Sadie had transformed me into the closest thing to a princess I’d ever be. My hair was halfway pulled up, appearing glossy and as cooperative as I’d ever seen it, my makeup natural yet at the same time glamorous, and the dress . . . it had been made for me. Flaws and all.

  Maybe the queen didn’t hate me as much as her piercing stares suggested.

  Heading down the hall, I could already make out the sound of music coming from the Grand Ballroom. A string orchestra from the sounds of it, playing classics I recognized but couldn’t name. My stomach floated higher into my throat with every step I took, wondering what I’d do when I saw him.

  Wondering what he’d say when I told him.

  The castle had been bustling the past few days as vendors prepared for the ball and guests arrived from long distances to attend. It wasn’t every day a prince became a king. The coronation was tomorrow, and tonight’s revelry was known as the Coronation Eve Ball, a long-standing tradition dating back to Norland’s earliest history. I’d learned about such celebrations in history classes, though I had never guessed I’d one day be in attendance.

  Sadie had prepped me for what I could expect—dancing, dinner, followed by more dancing—but there wasn’t enough time left in the galaxy to teach me how to waltz or use a fork and knife properly.

  Pausing halfway down the last set of stairs, I got a brief glimpse inside the ballroom. Guests had trickled inside, while servers in tuxedos glided through the room, balancing silver trays of champagne and canapés.