Most of the ride back to our manor, that was just outside of the city in the countryside, was silent. Mother had been staring out of the window anxiously, since we had left. Which, foolishly I might add, had given me hope that she had forgotten about having been angry with me.
That was, until mother turned to glare at me, almost immediately, as if she had heard my thoughts.
"Do not think I have forgotten about the embarrassing predicament you forced me into back at the boutique, Emma." She arched her brows at me in displeasure, "How dare you leave the house looking so disheveled and unkempt, as if I never buy you clothes and force you to wear the same things over and over."
I wanted to reply with, 'why that is exactly what had happened mother,' but, like usual, I decided against it and began to grovel instead. "I apologize, My Lady. I had no intentions of making a fool out of you, sincerely. I had not noticed-"
"You speak to me as if I care about your pathetic excuses." She growled as she looked back out the window. She could only stand to look at me for so long before she would always turn away. "I will allow you to get away with it this time because something I actually care about requires my attention. I simply do not have the time to punish you accordingly. However, such negligence will not be tolerated a second time."
"Yes, of course, My Lady." I had grown used to apologizing for things that I shouldn't have had to apologize for. And, where once her words would have upset me, I only felt exhausted instead.
I wanted to be able to call her mother at least once out loud, despite her not even being deserving of the title. I wished that I could have a relationship with her and father that was not full of hate. And, sadly enough, after everything up until then, I still loved my family. I wanted them to love me back, and to finally include me in the family that I had been forced to stand back and watch. Adorning me with the lonely title of outsider.
But I knew that, despite all my hoping and yearning, the day I dreamed of would have never come and had accepted it long ago.
And even though I loved them, even though I longed to belong. I hated them. I hated that I hated them. I did not want to be full of hate like they had been, but no matter how badly I tried to suppress that emotion, it always resurfaced. It always reared its ugly head, and I would think vile things about them, about what I wanted to happen to them.
Yet, I would feel terrible, I would punish myself for it. I spent many nights crying because of how horribly I treated them in my mind. A courtesy they should have never been afforded, especially when they had never once shown remorse for how they openly treated me. And like always, I was the only one suffering.
Once we had arrived at the manor, mother instantly shoved open the door to the carriage. A loud thump followed, as it had collided with the unsuspecting coachman who had been on his way to open it for us, knocking him to the ground.
As she emerged from the carriage, mother glanced down at him for a moment, the look in her eyes was enough to kill as she spat, "Stupid fool, next time stay out of my way." The poor man continued to look down at the gravel, not daring to meet her glaring eyes. She pushed his foot out of her way, then shouted, "I do not have the time to deal with these theatrics, get out of my way!"
The man scrambled to remove himself from her path, fear written all over his face. She then gathered up the bottom of her dress and quickly made her way up the steps and disappeared inside the manor without a second thought.
I allowed Adela to go first, not that she would have let me go in front of her anyway. Before I had followed her inside after I helped up, then apologized to the man mother had knocked down. I felt so sorry for him, especially after noticing the fresh cut on his forearm soaking his white shirt.
"Please," I looked over at one of the maids who had been waiting to unload the carriage, "See to his wounds and feed him."
"Yes, Miss Beckett, right away." The older woman shot me a small smile before she motioned for the coachman to follow her.
"Thank you, young Miss." He softly bowed his head.
"Of course, Sir. It was at no fault of your own. Now go before that cut gets infected." I shooed them kindly, knowing that if mother saw him again after what had just happened, then he would have been without a job by dinner.
By the time I had joined Adela in the foyer, mother's screams echoed through the manor from down the left hall. The two of us stood there, not daring to move any closer out of fear of her thinking we were trying to eavesdrop.
"What do you mean we have to? No, I said no James. I refuse to allow this to happen. Do not look at me like that. Like I am some sort of fool. She is my child! I do not care that he is the bloody king, he cannot have her, and I am sure others feel the same." Adela looked at me as if she wanted to ask me a question, but instead looked away and continued listening to mother's ravings. "Do you not have a backbone? Apparently not if you will not do this for our child. I do not care what you think, you will stand up to him, against this ridiculous order you must or- Do not shush me."
Father spoke softer so his voice was inaudible. He, unlike mother, was much better at containing his temper so it made it hard to understand what they had been talking about since all we had to go off of was mother's half of the conversation.
Though, whatever it was that he had said to mother, immediately calmed her down and the screaming came to an abrupt halt. My skin began to prickle as I wondered whether I should have been more thankful or concerned that I could no longer hear her. But the two of us stood there, staring down the hall at the door that led into father's study, waiting for them to emerge.
Not long after, the door finally opened and father appeared first, clutching the infamous letter in his hands. Mother was right on his heels, still very clearly upset, as the two made their way down the hall.
"Ah, good. The two of you are already here." Father looked worn out, "Come, Adela, Emma, your mother and I need to have a talk with the both of you in the drawing room."
He wore one of his many vests that had been made up of several different shades of green over a long-sleeved white undershirt. As usual he forgot to take off his reading glasses, so they still sat on the tip of his nose and hid the small bags that had started to form under his eyes from lack of sleep. His short auburn hair had turned mostly white in the past three years, and his mustache, as well as his long sideburns, were completely white and had been for a while.
He was getting old. The age gap between him and mother had started to become obvious as she was fifteen years younger than him. Unlike father, mother's looks had been well preserved, and she honestly just looked like a slightly older and more matured version of Adela.
I stood there for a moment, still surprised by what he had just said to the two of us. "Perhaps I heard him wrong?" I thought. Could it have been that I had just imagined it? He couldn't have asked for the both of us, there was no way. But with the way Adela also looked taken aback, he must have.
I could not, for the life of me, remember a time that I had been calmly asked to join them all in the drawing room, let alone at all, and it made me extremely uncomfortable. I started to wonder about the contents of the mysterious letter and what, exactly, could have been in it to make mother and father want to speak to me and it not be demanded in an angry tone.
I let everyone pass, as if I had a choice, then fell in behind them. Their posture hinted at them both being distressed, which was already clear from what little I had heard mother shout. I had also come to the conclusion, based on what I had heard, that the King wanted Adela, because if it had been me, they would never have gotten so distraught.
Once we all gathered in the drawing room, Father took a seat in his large ornate chair, that was next to the fireplace. Mother sat in her more elegant chair to the right of his and Adela sat on the loveseat that was in front of them. I quietly took a seat on my uncomfortable wooden chair that had been placed furthest away from them all, waiting for them to begin.
"Here, Adela read this." Father handed her the letter, "We will continue after you are done."
I watched as she slowly read the letter, her face progressively growing happier by the second. By the end of it she was nearly falling off the loveseat in excitement. If the letter had been news so great that it excited her, then why had mother been so upset, and why had I been involved?
My stomach started to knot up at the unnerving mood that wafted off of the two of them.
"Oh, Mother I could not be more delighted by such a grand opportunity. I cannot wait to make you and Father proud." Adela finally hummed in delight after she finished the letter and handed it back to them. "This is such wonderful news, and so much so that I do not understand why exactly she was brought along to celebrate."
The three looked at me collectively. Mother's jaw so tight her teeth had surely been close to shattering, and father's face had turned apologetic, though it was clearly not meant for me.
"Emma." Mother's tone was stiff, "The letter is a summons for Adela from His Majesty, the King. He and the Queen are holding an event for the twenty-first birthday of his second son, Prince Thomas, as well as to announce his availability to wed since this is the first season that he will be taking part in. This event, The Courting as they have deemed it, requires all of the eldest, unwed, daughters of all the nobles in Myrce to gather at the palace in three weeks' time. Where out of all the young ladies the prince shall choose a bride. The duration of the event is projected to last the entire season, so all girls will remain at the palace to serve as suitresses until they are either dismissed or chosen."
I looked at them confused, wondering why they were telling me this. Sure, it was great news for Adela, but what did it have to do with me? Were they just wanting to shove in my face that she could potentially become a princess one day, that our status would rise in the kingdom, but I would still be treated like a wart that refused to fall off and die? I knew it was not because they had wanted me to be happy for her.
"However," I had a bad feeling that something was amiss from the look in Mother's eyes as Father spoke, "Emma, you will be going in Adela's stead."
At first, I did not register what he had said, and once I did, I thought I had imagined it. Too many absurd things had happened in such a short span of time that I found it hard to believe anything at all. "Am I ill? Have I died? There's no possible way that they intend to send me instead of her." All those thoughts ran through my mind like a spooked horse high tailing it out of town. I was almost sure that I had misheard him until I looked over and saw the look on Adela's face.
"What?" Adela squealed, "What do you mean Emma will be taking my place? I want to go! I deserve to go! How dare you choose to send her over me?!"
"Hold your tongue child. Who gave you permission to scream at me?" Mother snapped, "Sit down and shut up before you embarrass yourself even further, and if you cannot then you may leave."
The three of us watched Adela storm out of the room. Despite her donning a look that could kill, tears started to stream down her face. She was built up and then crushed within a matter of seconds and I actually felt bad for her. We all sat quietly as we listened to her stomp her way up the stairs and not long after slam, what I could have safely guessed to have been, her bedroom door.
Once everything grew quiet, mother continued. "Do not think this is a blessing, nor us choosing you over your sister." She hissed, "If it were possible, I would not even think of sending you. However, I have no other choice." Her face twitched, and she looked to have been disgusted with herself.
"You are not allowed to be the first girl sent home; it would make a fool out of our family if you are. But you are not allowed to wed the prince either." Father added.
"Do you understand what we are saying child?" Mother barked, her eyes felt like they were searing into my skin with how hard she was glaring at me, "You will only remain long enough to make us look good, and then you must return home. If you dare try and seduce the prince, I will ruin you. He deserves a bride far better than someone like you and I will not disgrace the royal family by allowing likes of you to marry into it."
I honestly did not know what to say, so instead I just sat there quietly absorbing all the absurd things that continued to leave their mouths. "Perhaps I will wake from this absurd dream soon, for this is all too obscene to actually be real." I mentally told myself.
"If you do as you are told," Father sucked in a regretful sigh, unhappy with what he was about to say next, "once you return, I will see to it that you are matched with one of Duke Wallem's sons."
Mother's head turned so fast to look at father that I thought it was going to spin around completely. It was clear that he had not brought that up to her in their talk previously and she was furious at the preposition. From the look on her face, it was safe to assume that she had not intended to reward me. That this was just expected of me, and I would do as I was told.
"I understand, I will do as I am told and will not embarrass you. I shall do my best not to be sent home before Countess Fairefax's daughter." I looked Mother directly in the eyes knowing that what I had said would take her attention away from Father.
She looked at me for a moment and I could have sworn I saw a hint of approval flash across her face before she corrected it. "Then all is in order. I shall take you to have dresses made this week and a few pieces of jewelry to match. I cannot send you to the palace looking like that." She pointed her finger at me, tracing me from head to toe.
"Yes, My Lady." I tried to hide my excitement. I did not want to be reprimanded for being excited about finally getting things made just for me.
"Then there is nothing left to be said. You may leave." Father shooed me as he averted his attention to Mother, who was more than likely about to give him a mouth full.
I stood up and curtsied, then carefully made my way up the stairs and stood at the top for a moment, taking everything that had just happened in.
I was being sent to the palace. Not only that, but there was also the chance that a prince, of all people, could have possibly fallen in love with me. And I was to get dresses that finally fit me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. There were so many different emotions that all hit me at once, and I could not express a single one of them, out of fear of being seen or heard.
They were fools if they believed I was going to do exactly what I was told. I had been waiting my whole life for this moment, for the chance to finally break free of their clutches and it was all the better that I would end up a princess. I wanted them to suffer me for a change. I wanted them to pretend to be obedient to me and do as I say. They made the mistake of sending me instead of Adela, because I was going to make them pay for the last nineteen years of my life.
I had spent my whole existence longing for them to love me, to accept me. I cowered beneath my mother's fist, and I endured her beatings, her unadulterated hate. Now, if I succeeded, they could never hurt me again.
I did not care what they had said, nor did I fear any of their threats. I was going to win the prince's heart, and no one was going to stop me.