“Is something wrong? Did something happen?” The deep rumbling voice inquiring after my wellbeing belonged to Prince Theodore, the royal archive’s curator. He wasn’t much for words under ordinary circumstances, but since I began visiting the archives frequently, we’d grown close enough to speak openly.
Before I could bring my panicked brain under control, he spotted the book in my arms and the ladder behind me, and knitted his brows. “I believe I told you just the other day to call someone to assist if you wanted a book off the higher shelves.”
He was right. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a noblewoman to clamber up and down a ladder herself. I muttered an apology.
Prince Theodore breathed a sigh. He was already busy enough lately as it was, and now I’d become the target of his exasperation. “I wasn’t informed you would be visiting the palace today. What happened to your bodyguards? This may be the palace, but you mustn’t go around unattended.”
“Yes, my apologies.”
I felt like an unruly student being scolded by their teacher. Up until this point, he’d been one of the few who showed understanding toward my unladylike behavior, but perhaps his patience had worn thin.
“Does Chris know that you’re here at the palace?” he asked.
“...No.”
I hadn’t been to the palace in five days. My aunt injured her hip, and I’d been looking after her, at least in theory. In truth, she was just borrowing me as a conversation partner so she could kill time. This had drawn me away from the book I wanted to read, and instead I’d been forced to endure the drudgery that was reading love stories and poetry collections that my aunt had recommended aloud and at length. Today I finally slipped away from that slog and made my way here to the archives to retrieve my longed-for tome, only to witness the aforementioned scene.
Prince Theodore sighed once more. “Then go home quickly,” he said curtly, chasing me out of the archives.
My chest prickled with pain. Prince Theodore was the only one outside my family with whom I could discuss books. I had hoped when we met today that I could ask about the book he was holding.
I trudged down the corridor.
Access to the archives had been increasingly restrictive this past month. I had been given free access to visit as the prince’s betrothed, but even the workers there that I used to converse with now acted distant and shooed me from the books. I suspected they were handling older tomes, since they were all wearing gloves, and volunteered to help, but they turned me down flat. They acted almost as if I couldn’t be trusted with handling the books there, and that saddened me greatly.
I understood now though, after seeing the prince and Lady Irene. The workers probably sensed that he had someone special in mind now and were trying to put distance between themselves and me, knowing our engagement would be annulled. The same could be said about the events in the rose garden ten days ago, come to think of it.
One of our regular tea parties was planned that day in the rose garden. I was late in arriving, held back by the chief herbalist who’d come to return a book. At the behest of the male servant attending me, we hurried to the garden. Clamor from that direction came to greet us as we approached, in the form of Lady Irene and a number of maids.
“If it isn’t Lady Elianna!”
I flinched at her reproachful tone and strong gaze.
“And just where were you? Everyone was waiting for you,” she huffed.
No matter the reason, I was the one at fault for being late.
“My apologies,” I said. “I was delayed by another engagement. Did something happen?”
There were damp splotches peppered across her hair and clothes, but I needed only glance out the corridor to see it was sunny outside.
Lady Irene flinched and dropped her intense gaze, shivering as if she only now remembered the cold of her wet clothes. “That was disrespectful for someone of my rank to say. And disgraceful for me to show myself in front of you like this. Please, have mercy on me!”
Excuse me? I tilted my head in confusion. She’d only spoken the truth. I saw no reason for her to abase herself on my account. More importantly, if she didn’t change out of those clothes quickly, she’d catch cold. Before I could mention as much, a sharp voice cut through the air.
“Lady Elianna!”
I glanced to discover a red-haired knight, Lord Glen, the alarm clear on his face as he dashed over. He was even more drenched than Lady Irene and her maids. He studied me closely, eyes traveling up and down my body as if something had happened to me, but it wasn’t until he spotted my manservant nearby that he finally let out a sigh of relief. “So that’s it...” he muttered bitterly to himself.
I shrank under his withering gaze. He must be disappointed in me for having the gall to keep everyone waiting on my account, must think it unbefitting of Prince Christopher’s fiancée.
“Lord Glen,” Lady Irene began, in a voice much softer than she had used with me, as if to calm him, “you must change out of that quickly. No matter how capable of a knight you may be, you will still catch a cold if you stay in that.”
Her soothing tone earned a sigh from him. “You needn’t worry about me, my lady. You’re also soaked yourself. I’d like to talk to you about what transpired. Allow me to see you to your room.” Lord Glen called a nearby guard and gave him strict instructions to escort me home. His gaze was more intense than I’d ever seen it before as he informed me, “The tea party has been canceled. The palace is in an uproar right now, so His Highness has his hands full. Please return to your residence for today.”
“But...” I started to protest. I wanted him to at least hear the reason for my delay. Besides, it would reflect poorly on the prince if I didn’t deliver my apologies to the guests. But there was a rare unsettling aura about Lord Glen that gave no room for dissent, so the words hung unspoken.
Lord Glen and Lady Irene began chatting amongst themselves as they left, and the guard who delivered me back home informed me there had been a plumbing failure in the rose garden. It wasn’t until I arrived back at our estate that I realized it had always been Lord Glen who had escorted me up until now. That day marked the beginning of me noticing the absence of things I’d grown accustomed to.
It all made sense, reflecting back on things now—from the way Prince Theodore had acted so formal and curt, putting distance between us, to the way Lord Glen went from smiling welcomingly at me to politely drawing a line between us.
Four years had passed since Prince Christopher named me his betrothed. I had interacted with all of the people close to him. Lord Glen, the red-headed knight, always acted warm and welcoming (unlike you might expect for someone in the palace), always willing to help me carry my books. Alexei, the Ice Scion, firmly believed in using any tools at his disposal (including his own parents) and often had me doing errands for him, such as delivering messages or sorting documents, when I wasn’t actively invested in a book of my own.
There was a time when the four (or even five) of us, including His Highness, would banter and crack jokes together, and for the first time I had found something outside of books fun and enjoyable. It wouldn’t be long now before Lady Irene would be taking my place, I was sure. No, perhaps it was too late and I’d lost my place with them already. After all, the prince had let his mask down in front of her.
“...Oh dear.”