Page 27 of Of Glass and of Gold

Kenzie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think of that.” Both girls gave pause before resuming their preening.

I sat in a chair, removed from the action, a cup of steaming black coffee in my hand. My yawn perfectly displayed how bored I’d become. Melody reached in front of Kenzie for something on their vanity, which momentarily cleared the view for me to see my own reflection.

My straight black hair bunched high on one side in the back. If I had my choice, I’d be in bed still instead of unceremoniously hauled from it, as if my opinion and presence during these hours was mandatory and crucial.

As much as I couldn’t care about making myself presentable for the prince, I knew how excited Melody was. And Kenzie, when she actually had somewhere to focus her attention, wasn’t as much of a judgmental pain in the ass to be around.

Eucinda glided into the room holding a vast array of scarves, most I recognized as gifts from my father over the years. For a moment, I pondered what this morning would look like if he were still here. He’d shower the girls with compliments, no matter if they looked like they’d taken a tumble in the mud. I could almost feel the phantom hand on my shoulder, silently standing by my decision to not participate.

But had he been here, I wouldn’t feel the resentment to the royals as strongly as I do now. Maybe that version of me would have enjoyed the dream of attending fancy balls and proper luncheons to win the affection of a prince.

Eucinda draped each individual, colorful piece over Melody’s shoulder, tilting her head to scrutinize the hue against her hair, skin, and dress she’d picked out.

I sipped the almost too hot, bitter coffee. We’d run out of milk earlier in the week, and we hadn’t been able to afford sugar in months. The taste took some getting used to, but I think it added to its effectiveness. I didn’t want to think of the day we’d run out of the grounds, even though I knew it would approach sooner rather than later.

“Oh!” Eucinda squawked, making the girls jump in their seats. “I know what would go perfectly with your hair, dear,” she said to Melody before racing out of the room.

A long, drawn-out sigh escaped me as I stared off into the void, wondering if this was how the gods, if they existed, punished souls for eternity.

“Ah!” A shriek followed by a series of harsh thuds echoed from the staircase.

“Mother?!” Melody called as the three of us immediately darted from the room. We funneled into the hallway and down the stairs on the first staircase to see Eucinda curled in a ball on the foyer floor. Our steps resounded off the walls, thundering like a herd of animals until we reached her. She grumbled in pain as we gathered her to her feet, letting her arm rest over mine and Melody’s shoulder for support. We walked her to the living room and set her down in the chair as the old woman favored her ankle.

“Is it broken?” Melody asked.

“No, no I don’t think so.” Eucinda hissed in pain as she rubbed her foot. “A twist or a sprain.” Those hollow eyes met mine with fury in her gaze. “You.”

There’s no way she could be blaming me for her fall, could she? The back of my hands stung in memory of that damn riding crop. Without thinking, I hid them behind my back.

“You will need to take them to the luncheon as their dedicated chaperone.” Her words burned through the air, like a stream of venom aimed right for me. She’d been just as feverishly excited to attend as the girls, and it enraged her that I would get to go, and she could not.

I didn’t want to. I really didn’t want to. I hated that she couldn’t, hated that now the responsibility fell on me. Hated that I knew she’d find some way to punish me for doing something I already didn’t want to do. Hated that I had to swallow down any protest and submissively obey.

“Yes, Ma'am.” I swallowed down that corrosive venom, letting it eat away at my resistance since there was nothing else I could do.

“Get yourself presentable. Now. The carriages will be sent in an hour.” She waved a dismissive hand at me, one that I didn't doubt would ring my neck if I got close enough.

Each of my steps boomed with increased resentment as I ascended the stairs to my room. Me, attend an event at the castle? I had vowed never to go near that white, tall succubus of a building. The one that drained life from its people so it could prosper. The royals that occupied it were nothing but parasites to feed alongside it.

I shut my door and tossed myself onto my bed, burying my face in my pillow and releasing a pent up growl of frustration. My mind reeled, replaying events in my life that somehow led me to this moment.

In my father’s ledgers, before the papers had been burned as kindling to heat the house, he’d kept reports of all his business dealings. Names, products to ship, crewmen, international ports, repairs, calendars. His organizational skills were meticulous, a reason why he’d fared so well in the industry. But one of those last entries had not appeared as the others had. The lack of detail was astonishing, and the few notes surrounding it seemed cryptic at best. Had my young ears not been sneaking around the house in an attempt to jump out and scare my old man, I wouldn’t have witnessed a curious exchange.

Tension seeped from the room as I neared, the air feeling thicker to swallow. A man exited the parlor, and I crouched further into the shadows of the staircase.

Father would be upset to find me acting so childishly in front of his business associates, so I’d have to remain until the coast was clear.

The man left our house without another word, and once the door closed, my father released a string of curses he so rarely used from the other room. I remained in staunch silence until enough time had passed that it wouldn’t be obvious I’d overheard. Finally, I delicately crept into the parlor to find the room empty. Cupboard doors creaked and closed, an indicator that father had gone to the kitchen. Unsure what made me notice that letter in the wastebasket, maybe the vibrant blue wax seal, my curiosity grew. That blue was familiar. The single letter sat in the bin, and even my child’s eyes recognized the seal of the Crown.

I hadn’t dared pick up the note, something I regretted to this day, but I pieced together that my father had been conducting royal business. It wasn’t long after that he died.

One of his merchant vessels sank, and in an attempt to rescue the cargo, he’d gone down with it. In the blink of an eye, my world had shattered. I’d never forget the hollow emptiness that swept over me as the guardsmen delivered the news and Eucinda's screams permeated the foyer.

Ever since then, I had a well of unending resentment toward the Crown. Had my father not been working for them, he wouldn’t have ever put material possessions above his family. Wouldn’t have risked his life like that. My guess was that if I’d read that letter, I’d have seen words of insistence scrawled across the parchment, words laced with consequence upon failure. Why else would my father have been so careless?

I bit down on the anger that boiled to the surface and ground my teeth together when I could taste the vitriol that wanted to spew out and tarnish his memory. If he had just said no, if he had been more careful about his business dealings, he’d be with us today…

Crossing the castle threshold would brand me a traitor to my father, associating myself with those responsible for his death. I wished to live my entire life without ever getting close to that monarchy monstrosity. I flipped onto my back and blew out a breath to clear the hair from my face.

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