famously unfamous | jaron artolius eckbert iii

Twenty-Two

As soon as Conner left, Mott and I were by Jaron's side, helping him up off the floor and onto my bed. He rolled onto his back and into my lap and groaned, holding his side.

"I think he cracked a rib," he said. "He punches a lot harder than you do."

"To be fair, Your Highness, I was holding back," Mott said.

Jaron just closed his eyes while Mott unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and felt around for any injuries he might detect.

"Why didn't you let me tell him the truth?" Mott asked. "He's going to find out soon enough anyway, and you could have saved yourself all this pain."

"He'd never have believed it," I pointed out. "He should know who we are better than anyone, but all he can see are the boy and girl from the orphanage. That's all he'll ever see of us, even me, his daughter."

"Perhaps so," Mott said. "Other than a tiny cut on your chest, I can't see any damage."

"Trust me, there's damage," Jaron groaned. "Couldn't you have stopped him?"

"Only you could have." He began sliding his shirt down his arms. Jaron let him do all the work. "What were you thinking by spitting at him at the end? Begging for more?"

Jaron answered with an "ow" as Mott pushed his left arm back too far. He apologized and moved more carefully.

"You are the biggest fool of a boy I've ever known," Mott said. Then his tone softened. "But you will serve Carthya well."

"I wish I felt ready to do this," I sighed. "The closer we come to the moment, the more I see every defect in my character that caused Conner to disown me."

"Yeah," Jaron admitted. "The closer we get, the more I see why my parents sent me away."

"From all I'm told, the prince they sent away was selfish, mischievous, and destructive. The king who returns is courageous, noble, and strong. And the girl Conner got rid of — I can remember — was full of tricks, broke almost every rule he set down, and was so opposite of what he wanted her to be that he couldn't handle it. The woman who comes back is still tricky, but she's the pull to her king's push. She's the stop to his start. She thinks things through and... she's smarter than Conner could ever expect."

I smiled weakly.

"And I'm a fool," Jaron added.

Mott chuckled. "You are that too."

Getting dressed in the outfit Conner had planned for us took quite a while. It was fancier than the usual clothes we had at Farthenwood, and immediately reminded me of the one thing I'd never missed of castle life — or as close as I'd ever gotten to it. Jaron's tunic was long and black with gold satin ribbon running from his chest to the bottom hem. Beneath it he wore a white, full-sleeved shirt that gathered at his wrists and was tight on his neck. A dark purple cape hung from his shoulders, clasped with a gold chain that was heavier than it looked.

"Real gold?" he asked. Mott nodded and offered him a pair of new leather boots and a ridiculous hat that had a long white feather in it. He took the boots and ignored the hat. I grinned and plopped it on his head. He rolled his eyes and put it on my own head.

I was changing into a white shift behind a changing wall and had pulled a silk underskirt over my legs. I spun out to face him with a grin. He snorted as I pulled two fluffy tulle underskirts over my head, then piled three more underskirts on top. I pulled on the structured corset over a white underdress and turned for Mott to pull it tight. He pulled it gently and I grunted when he tied the strings. He apologized and then I pulled on my purple velvet overdress on top. I tied the gold silk waist ribbon in a loose bow behind my back and looked at myself in the full-length mirror. I twirled around to face Jaron. He smiled at me as Mott placed my shoes — low gold silk heels — in front of me. I stepped into them, my white stockings pulled up to my knees and tied with gold ribbons to make sure they didn't slide down.