Madeline screamed "Ahhh!!!!!" for the tenth time as she shoved the sheet away and sat up in bed. She then lay back down, screamed once more, and sat up again.
"Why are you disrupting the household so early?" Jo leaned against her room door, watching her with a frown. "You do not look good since you arrived home. Will the king not marry you again?" he asked innocently.
Madeline turned her head slowly towards him. The bags under her eyes and her tousled hair made her resemble a ghost that unnerved him. "Do not mention that word again," she said slowly, pointing at him. She then glanced at her legs folded on top of the bed. "I do not want to hear the word marry," she mumbled.
"You should wash up, you look like a ghost, Made... Lina," he shook his head and ran off. Madeline's eyes bulged, and she lifted her head up.
"That's right, Phil. If I could just lie to the king and tell him I am betrothed to Phil, then he would leave me alone," she said, mustering all her strength to stand up from the bed. Rummaging through her cupboard, she searched for a comb and a hairband.
"The king would leave me alone when he finds out that I'm about to marry. Yes," she muttered to herself as she combed her hair, staring at her half-ghostly reflection in the mirror.
Yesterday, she had returned with lots of gold and fancy things that her father had praised her for, saying she had done a good job. It was later that night when she told them about the king's request, but they seemed overjoyed.
"The king is one to be wary of," Madeline warned her family wide-eyed.
"He is the king. Of course, he is meant to be difficult, but I am sure he is a nice person," her mother said.
Her father nodded, "True, or he wouldn't have treated you nicely."
"It is because he claims to love me," Madeline tried to make them understand, but they all dismissed her, telling her it was a good thing that the king had noticed her.
As Madeline took her face powder to cover the bags under her eyes, she muttered, "Why is no one seeing that that man merely said those words? He is not the one to love." She sighed and dropped the powder back on the cupboard.
"But what if he is really in love?" she shook her head. No, she shouldn't think of him. She was not the one to be with the king; she could not marry the king.
A king does not notice his commoner—how did he even see her? Did he come to the village and spot her? Maybe he had been leaning against the door of the shop, watching her. Or when she raced towards Mr. Richards' bakery for bread. Whatever it is, she believes that one must know someone's character inside and out before loving them. Yes, the king might have a motive.
She shook her head, now packing her ruffled hair into a ponytail. "Phil," she muttered to herself, "here I come as a lady who must make a deal with you." She nodded. "I am but a common lady; I do not fit in at the castle. I only want to focus on work."
Madeline turned and was about to head towards the door but bumped into her mother, who stood there with a raised brow. "Mother," Madeline laughed awkwardly, "How long have you been standing here?"
"Long enough to hear you say you want to back away from the king's proposal," her mother raised her eyes at her. "Madeline, do you not see the opportunity in front of you?"
"Mother," Madeline bit her lip and bowed her head. Her mother was not one to be carried away by wealth, so what could have changed her mind? "I do not love him, mother." She hoped there was another reason why her mother was doing this, not for money or royalty.
Her mother's shoulders slumped, then she held her shoulder, letting out a sigh. "Madeline, we want what's best for you. Look, the king is giving you enough time to know him. Maybe you should get to know him very well before making your decision."
Madeline stared at her mother. "Is this for the money?"
"Madeline," pain tugged at her mother's eyes. She bit back her lip. "It's for the best. We are doing this for you."
Tears fell from Madeline's eyes. She wanted it to be different; she had wanted her mother to be different, someone who wouldn't be blinded by wealth. But it turned out differently. "Mother."
"Please," her mother squeezed her hand. "Do this for the family."
Mr. Gavin walked in and held his wife's shoulder, his eyes darting away from Madeline's.
Madeline tilted her head slightly. "You agree too, Father." She did not have to ask him; it was evident on his face.
Mr. Gavin nodded and then spoke softly, "The king is here."
Madeline's eyes widened. What was he doing here so early in the morning? Did he forget something?
"You should go meet him," her father said and gave her a nod when he saw her brow furrowed.
Madeline sighed. She was exhausted from even protesting. She had been thinking so hard at night, and now she was even exhausted from thinking too much.