A month had passed in the blink of an eye. Phil was so busy preparing for the upcoming ceremony that I hadn’t been able to meet with him for days now. He’d written me a letter once, but even in writing I could tell how busy he was, so I simply reminded him to be mindful of his health in my reply to him. I was far more lonely than I had imagined I would be, but I had to put up with it.
On my end, I actively participated in high society gatherings and worked hard on my lessons that would help me be a better housewife. I worked my best on what I thought I could do to prepare myself for marriage. It would take a lot of time and work to become a proper duchess.
Today, I was working on my embroidery with Jamie, who dropped by to visit.
“Wow, Viola, you’ve improved a lot.”
“Really? I’m glad to hear that.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that the thread and pieces of cloth that died so miserably in the past are happy that their sacrifices weren’t in vain.”
I had no idea what to say to that. Jamie was looking down at the handkerchief in my hands with a happy expression on her face. It was hard to tell if I should interpret her comment as a compliment or an insult. Jamie had always been good at embroidery and, lately, she’d been coming over to tutor me on it.
“I’m serious. It’s like you’re a whole different person that I’m surprised how far you’ve come,” she continued.
“Thank you.”
Thanks to all the work I’d been putting into my studies, I felt like my handicrafts were a lot easier on the eyes compared to before. Phil was still holding on to the ugly handkerchief I’d gifted him as if it was some sort of treasure. So I wanted to give him something new and nicer at some point in the near future.
“By the way, do you know what this is?” I asked Jamie.
“An eggplant, right?”
“It’s a parrot.”
The only thing that was the same between what I made and Jamie’s guess was the color. Compared to when people thought my embroidery was a cute worm though, I felt like this was a vast improvement.
We continued to work in silence. Selma, my maid, came in to prepare some tea for us. We decided to take a break from our work and moved to the table.
“Oh, that reminds me, it seemed that someone came by earlier. Has Father returned?” I asked Selma.
“Yes, Viscount Westley came by from the viscountcy. He appears to be very busy today so he returned to his work immediately, but he dropped off quite a few apples before he did.”
“I see.”
My father had been busy lately as well. To try and ease some of his workload, I’d sometimes appeared at social gatherings in his place.
“Lady Viola, what do you think about making desserts this afternoon? You could use the apples to bake a pie,” Selma said.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. Let’s do that. Jamie, does that sound all right to you?” I asked.
“Yes, of course. I wanted to see how much you’ve improved your baking too.”
Back when we were in school together, Jamie often compared the snacks I made to pig feed. However, lately, my snacks had become fit for human consumption. In retrospect, I couldn’t help but worry about Phil’s health, since he’d eaten the disastrous failures I’d made in the past. I heard that food could affect somebody even years after the fact, so if any side effects were going to occur, they’d start to appear around now.
“I’ll go prepare the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Selma. We’ll be there soon.”
After Jamie and I finished our tea, we went to the kitchen and started to work on the apple pie. It took us three hours to prepare and bake it. When we opened the oven door, a sweet scent filled the kitchen and our hearts began to race.
“It looks really good,” I said.
“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” Jamie agreed.
Since I was the one who made the apple pie, even though it was baked to golden brown perfection, it still looked a little ugly. I took a bite to taste it and it was scrumptious. That was mostly attributed to Jamie and the head chef’s help, though. Right when Jamie and I moved to the parlor to eat the freshly baked apple pie, a maid suddenly handed me a letter.
“Hmm? What’s this?” I asked.
“A letter for you, Lady Viola. From Lord Rex Dowland.”
“Huh, he almost never sends me letters. Thank you.”
Like the maid said, Rex’s name was written on the back of the envelope. Despite how ridiculous his antics usually were, his penmanship was neat and sophisticated. Phil also had nice penmanship. Anyway, it was rare of Rex to send me letters. Usually, he came by to tell me anything he had to say directly. So I could tell from the fact that he had to resort to written correspondence that he, too, was very busy.
I sat down with Jamie and opened the envelope. In the letter, Rex wrote that he was so busy, it felt like he’d been imprisoned in the palace and sentenced to labor. So he wanted me to go to the palace and see him. Since Phil was also working in the palace, I’d be able to see him as well. Rex added at the end of the letter that my visit would undoubtedly make Phil happy.
“What did Lord Rex say?” Jamie asked.
“He said he wants me to drop by the palace.”
I summarized for Jamie the contents of the letter. She smiled happily with an “Oh my” and then grabbed my hand.
“We should go!” she said.
“Huh? Where?” I asked.
“To the palace, of course!”
“Wait, are you serious? Now?”
“Yes. You managed to bake this wonderfully delicious apple pie, so it’s the perfect snack to give them. I’m sure Lord Phillip will be happy to see you. Come on, we need to hurry up and prepare!”
Jamie seemed really excited. Going to the palace now seemed a little too spontaneous. But I preferred to go with Jamie and bring a gift over dropping by alone.
“Thank you. I’d be delighted if you’d go with me,” I said.
We asked one of the maids to wrap up the apple pie for us and started to prepare for the outing.