Chapter 7, part 2

“What happened to the children? Did you really take them with you?”

“I had given her my word, and it was her last will. I did not have a choice if I wanted to continue to see myself as a man of honour.”

Catherine smiled and wiped her eyes again, happy that they stayed dry that time.

“Where are they now?”

The prince shrugged again.

“In my service.”

Catherine nodded. His voice had changed, and she suspected that he would not tolerate many more questions or tears on her behalf. She did not understand why he had allowed her to speak so freely in the first place. He had seemed to want to kill her when he entered the room. Now he was thoughtfully fingering her blanket.

“We need a plan, my dear. You said the women were on edge?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you think they are feeling more bored or jealous?”

Catherine thought about it. There had been plenty of lively conversations. She was sure some of them felt bored, but the fact that they were all still present spoke of iron wills. She could not imagine that any of them were happy with the danger of their situations or the fact that they had a very high risk of being sent home in disgrace.

“It's more likely they're jealous, isn't it, sir?”

“I'd think so. Do you think they'll be more likely to feel distressed if I start spending a little time with some of them? Keep in mind I want them to show their true colours.”

“I don't know, sir. They all seemed so sure of themselves. Do something they don't expect, I think.”

“Officially they are all just here for social reasons. I never said aloud that the purpose is for a magic spell to help me pick a bride. But I made sure to tell each of them in private that she had been picked out and would have to wait. Now, I am very certain that they are all aware of my slight dishonesty at this time, but the question is how many of them are willing to admit to anything. The ones who left obviously were not.”

“Tell them all the truth, sir.” Catherine spoke before she could think, and immediately regretted it, but the prince just looked at her.

“That might be the best idea,” he said, nodding his head. “It would certainly force them to show their hands and make it a little more likely that they seek out advice from someone who knows me.”

He stood up, wiping at the soiled blankets for a moment, then thinking better of it.

“I will speak to Ingrid and see how she feels. If you are not told of any changes, be ready for an interesting morning. Goodnight, my dear.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

“I will call for someone to clean up this mess. You could go and have a bath in the meantime,” he said as he was leaving. He limped slightly and was pressing a hand against his ribs.

She did as he suggested, enjoying the warm water and finally feeling more like herself. She shuddered when she realised that the smell of the prince's clothes clung to the side of her face and hair as well as the clothes she had been wearing. She scrubbed herself as hard as she dared when remembering that she would have to look presentable in the morning.

The prince was confusing her. She did not like his company, and she could not relax when he was anywhere near her, but his story suggested that he was a far better person than he seemed. She assumed that the use of illegal mean to make an end to such suffering was not as bad as it had sounded on her father's lips.

On the other hand there was no disputing that he was an angry, dangerous man. And the way he treated the women he had brought with him did not put him in a favourable light. She was not sure if she understood their choice. They were, at worst, risking their futures at the chance of spending their lives at the prince's side. Power and wealth seemed to be very addictive.

Her few short days at the castle had taught her to worry and feel bad about herself. She could see the appeal of having the option to take a warm bath in the middle of the night while somebody took care of her dirty things. And she could certainly see how the surroundings might cause someone to make bad choices. She would never have thought that she would sit in a marble tub with golden ornaments.

The thought reminded her that she would still need to find a life for herself when the prince was done with her. He had promised her an incredibly large sum of money - on a weekly basis, even - but she did not want to count on that. She did not trust that she would be able to.

She did not like the thought of leaving behind so much luxury just to be back on the street. These rooms would be empty when she left, most likely for years, as only the people invited by the prince himself even were allowed into the area. That was peculiar either way. The king must really be wary to make any official statements regarding the prince if he did not even demand to know what he was doing on this enormous property. She could not see how the king wanted to prove or disprove anything when he could not follow the prince's daily life.

As far as she remembered from school, it was simply tradition to leave society's most privileged to do as they pleased. It had not been worded like that, but between her own understanding and her father's explanation that was what she had understood.

She drew a towel around herself and looked in one of the large mirrors on the wall. The bruise on her face had faded so much that it could have been the way the light fell on her. Her hair was shiny and prettier then she remembered it having ever been. She was still ugly, but when her face had been covered in make-up earlier, she had almost looked passable. They had put red colour on the middle of her lips, so they appeared less wide, put emphasis on her eyes so it was easier to overlook her long nose. She had felt uncomfortable, as if she was wearing a mask, but it had still been nice to have someone cover up her faults.

The prince wanted his life back to normal as fast as possible. But when his was normal again, hers would be too. She did not want her normal life back so soon. Maybe when she had grown tired of the stress of having to look and speak right she would be ready for the stress of not knowing when she would eat again.

She would do her best to drag out the decision.



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