"-so you see, Your Majesty, that your conjecture is sadly outdated."
"Ah, but you have still not convinced me that your modern theory is correct, Lady Valentina. There seems to be too many variables!"
The spar between the queen and I had been elegant and vigorous. We were discussing the newest concepts in psychology and I enjoyed the company and challenge of such a keen, knowledgeable, and contrary woman.
Yet before I could retort, something else caught my attention. Prince Oscar stood up, awfully pale, alarming me as I had wanted to spend some private and hopefully romantic time alone with him after the banquet. His father looked at him inquiringly and he said something I couldn't hear. The king raised an eyebrow but nodded. Just like that, the guest of honour stepped away from the table and slipped out of the room.
A chill ran down my spine and the room suddenly quieted before erupting in gossip. What the hell was so important to make Prince Oscar, the perfect representation of propriety, leave his own birthday banquet early?
I was prepared for the worst, with an awful feeling that I was right.
- - -
Catherine hurried after the excited maid that had brought the strange news, with Uncle at her heels talking eagerly. She didn't hear a thing he said, her head still trying and failing to process why the crown prince was here instead of at his banquet. Her heart beat faster and she thought it was almost like a dream.
In the entrance hall, Prince Oscar stood with a handsome air of cold dignity, very much real. Catherine gasped and rushed down the stairs to meet him, worried that she'd made him wait.
"Your Highness! I hope-ahh!"
In her haste, she tripped over her dress on the last few steps of the staircase. She let out a frightened squeal as she fell forward, eyes squeezed tightly shut and arms flailing, prepared for a painful impact with the hard floor. It never came, and instead she collided with something firm but gentle.
Slowly, Catherine opened her eyes. It took a moment for the horror to set in as she realized her position. She was leaning against the prince's chest, and he had gripped her arm when he caught her, which he now let go. Without sparing a second to wonder how he'd even crossed the room fast enough to save her, she jumped back.
"I-I'm so sorry!"
Her face burned with embarrassment and her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it too. She reached out and adjusted his sleeve cuff, the disarrangement of which must've been caused by her, and immediately regretted it at his cold glance. Ack!
"U-um, are you all right? D-did I hurt you? I'm really sorry if I did! And thank you so much for not letting me fall!"
Words burst out of her, making her even more flustered. On the other hand, Prince Oscar's voice was indifferent and composed.
"You did me no injury. Are you yourself unharmed?"
"Y-yes, thank you for asking! O-oh, my manners! Good evening, Your Highness! And happy birthday!"
Catherine curtsied and bowed her head low in hopes that he wouldn't see how red her cheeks were. Fortunately or not, Uncle chose that moment to arrive.
"I taught you to never run in a dress, Cat! Ah, and this must be the prince. Greetings, Your Highness."
As he bowed, Uncle's tone changed abruptly to be full of respect with a touch of awe, even more than how he addressed Father, and Catherine could nearly imagine his old days as a valet. The prince greeted him politely.
"Good evening. You're Mr Sawyer, I presume."
Uncle beamed at the recognition and swelled his chest in pride. Catherine wondered if he knew that it was not necessarily a good thing, with the stories currently associated with him.
"Indeed I am! Raised little Catherine, I did, trained her to be such a nice young lady! Yet she runs, ignoring everything I've ever taught her, and what happens? She falls! I apologize most deeply on my part for failing her education."
Catherine had thought she couldn't have possibly wanted to disappear more than she did back in Lady Briana's room, but presently she knew she was wrong. She bit her lip, practically trembling to keep herself from running away and never coming back. How she wished she could do that!
"No, it is my fault for showing up unannounced."
"Well, now that you mention it-"
"Your Highness! What a pleasant surprise!"
Uncle had seemed to be on the verge of another rant, but luckily, Father interrupted from the top of the staircase, breathing heavily, having probably just ran from the other side of the mansion. They watched respectfully as he slowly walked down, panting, until he was in front of them. He bowed, and the prince received his greeting with a nod of acknowledgement.
"Hello, Baron Bryant. I apologize for this sudden visit."
"The presence of the crown prince is always welcome in this humble abode. My best wishes on Your Highness's birthday, by the way."
"Thank you."
As Father finished fulfilling his initial duties as host, he turned to Uncle, his tone still pleasant, but harder.
"You should return to your quarters, Charles. It's late."
"But-"
"It was an order, not a request."
With a grunt, Uncle acquiesced and retreated. To the prince, Father smiled courteously.
"Of course, Your Highness's visit is a great honour that I am truly ecstatic to receive. However, it is late, so may I be so impudent to inquire about the purpose of your call?"
"Certainly. It is bold of me, but I would like a moment of Lady Catherine's company."
Catherine's eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. Did she hear correctly? Prince Oscar glanced at her, and she blushed and looked away. What could he possibly want with her?
Father's brows lifted in a surprised and amused manner.
"I take it that I am not to be included?"
"Alone would be ideal, yes."
Father nodded thoughtfully.
"It is not exactly appropriate, no. However, I have the greatest faith in Your Highness's character, so all I ask is that a maid remain in the room with you."
Catherine blinked. Was Father actually going to allow this? Her heart raced wildly in a mixture of fear, excitement, and guilt. Before her mind, numb and slow from this series of shocks, could consider what she ought to feel and how she ought to act, she found herself in a drawing room sitting across from the prince, with two cups of tea on the table and Mary standing in the corner with a probing gaze.
Neither of them spoke for a minute. Catherine broke the silence in her attempt to lessen the awkward atmosphere.
"I'm sorry I couldn't attend Your Highness's banquet. My sister was ill, so I put her to bed."
"That's very kind of you."
"Oh, no, not at all. It's simply my duty to my family."
Not really her family, but Prince Oscar didn't need to know that. She swallowed and hurried to continue, not wanting to sink back into the silence.
"Um, is there anything you want from me?"
He did not answer. Catherine didn't know if she had spoken too quietly and he didn't hear her, but she was too afraid to try again, in case he had heard her. And now she couldn't say anything else, in case he was thinking of a response.
In the silence, Catherine dimly noted that similar to Uncle, she did not really enjoy the prince's company much. Behind the overwhelming confusion and terror of doing the wrong thing, there was only a mild anxiety for him to leave so she could go to bed and escape into dreams. Did she actually like spending time with anyone, a prospect she so longed for back at the bookstore?
Yes, Catherine thought. Lady Valentina… and Lord Damian. For some reason, she blushed again. The night she danced with him kept haunting her memories, and he'd really been so sweet. So completely unlike-
"I want to know what you did to me."
Prince Oscar's voice was cold as ice, like a sharp blade piercing through her. A shudder came over her and she tilted her head.
"Pardon?"
"I seem to think of you often. At the banquet, all I could do was wonder why you weren't there. I can't focus, even when I'm with-"
Without warning, he clutched his head like it hurt. His expression twisted and in that brief moment a bit of his poise slipped away, revealing weariness and frustration. Catherine felt a pang of sympathy and guilt, in case that she did somehow cause this distress as accused.
"Do you not feel well, Your Highness? Won't you have some tea?"
Yet as he took a deep breath and removed his hand from his head, the mask of perfect calmness was back. He stood, his face and voice both emotionless.
"I deeply apologize for intruding at such a late hour. It was absurd of me to act so rashly. Please keep the conversation between us, or, preferably, forget that it happened."
"Your Highness-"
"Good night, Lady Catherine."
He strode straight out of the room, leaving Catherine dumbfounded. Not a minute later, with her still sitting in the exact same position, Father came in with a wide grin.
"It's wonderful! Excellent work, Catherine."
"But I didn't do anything…"
Father's eyes glinted, and Catherine didn't think she liked it at all.
"No, you did the bare minimum, and that was enough. I told you everything would be fine, and it would be. What did he want?"
Obediently, Catherine divulged the contents of the short conversation as accurately as she could remember.
"I see. If he's noticing it, maybe I ought to lower the dosage… ah, never you mind. I'll take care of it. It's a splendid development, and I needn't have worried. I'm proud of you, my dear girl. Go have your rest, I'll make sure high society is brimming with the news soon. We'll see what they have to say about this."
Catherine nodded, and she couldn't help but feel a spark of delight at his pride. Yet she knew that in the end, it wasn't the same as what he felt for Lady Briana…
"Good night, Father."
If she did well and married Prince Oscar, could she be a part of their family? This thing she so desperately craved, was it what they called 'love'? Lord Damian had been right, what a strange feeling it was, and the longing, too! But what about Lady Valentina?
Catherine was so, so tired. She hoped that when she woke up in the morning, everyone could just be happy.
- - -
In the morning, there would be a bloodbath.
Word would spread about my fiance's whereabouts only too quickly. Perhaps even tonight, if my suspicions were correct and the baron was competent. I calmed myself by hanging on to the fact that my political, social, and religious influence were prominent enough that my betrothal, ultimately political in origin, couldn't possibly be annulled. I was secure even without his affection, so I didn't need it.
The queen's presence was not helping, but I carried on with the conversation casually, not showing any hint of annoyance.
"Is His Highness's health all right?"
"Oh, absolutely. I personally go over our family's reports from the royal physicians, and they're called in at any hint of ailment. One simply can't be too careful, I think. With all the food being carefully planned and tested, regular exercise, and everything else in order, my children are very adequately fit."
There went my secret hope that he was being drugged with a love potion or under some sort of spell. Well, it didn't matter. I conversed smoothly with Queen Josephine for the rest of the night, holding my own and keeping my growing irritation in check.
When I finally got home, Tia was swift to inform me that I was once again, sadly, correct.
"My lady! Did you hear? Prince Oscar visited Lady Catherine in private tonight!"
I sighed. If the news had spread this fast, high society was going to erupt, and not in my favour.