Fielle passed the time afterwards with Lynette in one room of the workshop. This room was furnished with a luxurious couch and table set which did not match the rest of the unsophisticated workshop, suggesting, to Fielle’s guilt, that it had been set up in such a way just for her.
“The carriage will be here soon,” Lynette told her as she prepared a pot of tea. “Until it does, your ladyship is to relax here.”
The rest of Fielle’s agenda on her Kassandra sightseeing tour was filled with attending the grand opening ceremony for a newly built art museum, assisting with visiting and donating to the children in a church’s orphanage, and attending a royal ball at the palace. Lynette guessed she was tired from being surrounded by people all day, so she indirectly cleared the room by sending the other maidservants off on assorted errands. This gave Fielle a bit of a breather as Lynette made tea for her.
After Purpoze and Prince Tomas left, the other aristocrats and princes started hounding Fielle and demanding her attention, but to be frank, Fielle was not really a social butterfly. She much rather preferred sticking with the people she already got along with. Sometimes she thought she’d have been better off born as a commoner since she just wasn’t suited for this at all.
Just then, someone knocked on the door, and a woman who looked like a lady-in-waiting peeked her head around the frame. Lynette went to receive her. The woman hurriedly whispered something to Lynette and then rushed away, all in a dither.
Lynette returned to Fielle and said, “Unfortunately, the carriage appears to have broken down. I’d like to step out and assess the situation myself, if it pleases Your Highness.” Then she too ran out of the room, leaving Fielle utterly alone.
Fielle sat there for a time and finished drinking her tea. After a while, however, she started to feel uncomfortable being there all by herself. She got up to check to see if Lynette was coming back (although of course she knew Lynette wasn’t) and left the room.
There was not a soul in sight. Everyone must have been dealing with the carriage issue. Lynette clearly wasn’t on her way back, but Fielle had no desire to return to the room either. Instead, she began wandering the workshop aimlessly. Fielle was not, perhaps, the most experienced person in the world, and normally everyone else made the decisions of where she should go next for her.
As she padded down the passageway, her shoes thumping on the flagstones underneath, she noticed an open door. She peered into the room, and by the faint light of the window, judged that it was empty. She walked in, not for any particular reason—but then again, her roaming around was not for any particular reason either apart from a general sense of unease. This, Fielle thought, was the story of her life: roaming the few places she was allowed to go out of fear of defying other people’s expectations.
The room was filled with shelves carrying pottery of all different shapes and sizes—pots, plates painted with artwork, gorgeous white porcelain vases, and more. This must be the room where they stored all the completed work, Fielle thought. Purpoze was truly a master; the workmanship was brilliant. Fielle wandered from shelf to shelf admiring every one of the pieces.
Suddenly, she heard a man chuckle behind her. “See anything you like?”
Fielle’s heart leaped into her throat. She thought she was alone!
“Sorry, did I startle you?” She spun around and saw that it was Prince Tomas, still in his apron and grinning at her. He was laughing at her, and he didn’t even have the gall to care that she knew! This annoyed her, but Fielle was not one to be angry often. Or, at least, other people didn’t think so.
She forced herself to calm down and then responded to his first question. “Y-Yes, I do. I now understand why everyone says Purpoze is such a magnificent artisan. These pieces are all lovely.”
She thought it was a perfect response, but it only made Prince Tomas even more amused. This time, he didn’t even bother to hide his mirth. Fielle had no idea why he was laughing at her, especially since she had said this purely because that was what other people expected her to say. She turned rigid as Prince Tomas’s laughter brought tears to his eyes. What was so funny?
Still amused, Prince Tomas finally apologized to her. “Looking at you reminded me of that whole affair earlier,” he explained. “Sorry. Master Purpoze really does know his stuff, but he tends to suck up to authority figures, you know? He was only acting like that since you’re a princess and all.”
Then Fielle understood. He was laughing at her messed-up cup—the one she had worked her butt off for and accidentally made into the curio of the century! How infuriating, even for her! She didn’t let her anger show on her face, but oh, she felt it.
Prince Tomas left Fielle there, fighting back a small objection, as he went to go start on some other task. Fielle tried to stubbornly ignore him, but she could see out of the corner of her eye that he was kneading more clay. It eventually dawned on her that this was the same kind of clay she had used to make her cup.
Unable to help herself, she asked, “What are you doing?” Prince Tomas dropped the clay on one of the nearby pottery wheels with a powerful thump and grinned back at Fielle.
“The Priestess of Healing is not satisfied with the pot she created, is she? Would she like to try again? Perhaps I’ll actually teach her.”
“Uh...” She was at a loss for words. Pottery wasn’t her job or anything. No one expected her to do it. But did she want to do it? She’d never made that choice before.
What should I do? she wondered. Her first thought was that it might dirty her dress, which would inconvenience Lynette. According to her usual way of thinking, this meant that refusal was the better option, but for some reason, that didn’t sit right with her. When it had been Purpoze’s time to teach her, he hadn’t given her very detailed instructions, perhaps out of a sense of reserve. Because I’m the Priestess of Healing, Fielle thought, so he probably figured I could make something amazing right off the bat without being taught. She had ultimately learned by following his example, but if she had been taught properly the first time, maybe her poor cup wouldn’t have come out so misshapen. She knew she shouldn’t put the blame on him, but...but...no, she really shouldn’t...after all, if she showed up at the party tonight with her dress covered in clay, her maids would fly off the handle... Okay, yes, she did wish her cup had turned out a little bit better, but it was so selfish to think like that...besides, everyone thought it was a weird teacup and ran with it anyway...
As she puzzled over how to respond, something hit her. “Wait a minute...” she muttered. The apron Tomas had on looked like perfect work clothes. She could pull it on over her sleeves and tie it at the back, completely covering her dress, and her dress wouldn’t get dirty!