28/11/19: Exams end tomorrow and I just cannot wait anymore! Here's a brand new chapter, just 'cause. As usual, vote, comment, share, the works—Thoughts on Addie? Thoughts on James? Let me know! Enjoy x
THE SKY GLOWED ORANGE, THE DUSTY KIND, AND ADDIE LOOKED OUT AT IT, with her chin resting in the heel of her palm. The cobbled streets, slick with the day's drizzle, glinted with the light of dusk. Her mother was silent across from her in the carriage, but all Addie could hear was her voice.
Your father could not let us risk our lives any longer. I had to give everything up, but it was hardly a significant sacrifice in exchange for your safety. Your father never had red hair, but I did. As you say...it would be too conspicuous if I kept it that way.
The unmarked carriage trundled along a quiet road and, inside, she tried not to feel put out. Normally she would be on her rooftop admiring the view – it would have been divine from up there, she knew it. But a few days had passed since she'd met the King, and today she was on her way to the to meet with an important lord instead. She resented it somewhat – her mind was still on the fine time she could be enjoying by herself.
But she reminded herself not to lose sight of the bigger problem she faced. This Lord Westbrook was only the first of a long string of people she would have to smile at. The King had given her a few weeks' notice – on her birthday in two months, when she turned of age, she would be crowned Princess of Lastyria and move into the palace. And then she would have to start looking for a husband. The King had said it himself when she'd asked him.
Why are you only telling me now?—Why are you telling me at all?
Because the kingdom needs its princess. You already know that things with the Ottoman empire have been...uncertain. The people will be worried. And you are going to be twenty soon. It is time for you to begin looking for a suitor.
I assume I am to be used as a distraction, she'd said blithely. The King had flinched at the bite in her tone, and had had the decency to try and deny using her, but she hadn't believed him. How could she? After she'd suffered for so long because of his absence, how could he possibly care about her if he only brought her back when he needed to a spectacle?
Some of her classmates might've been thrilled at the prospect of being princess, but she was more concerned with how her entire life was going to change in ways she'd never consented for it to.
Perhaps, though, she hadn't needed to consent. It wasn't a girl's place to submit to anything that happened to her, after all. Despite everything her mother had told her about forging her own path, about building her own life, about being strong... She would just end up like everyone else.
After a relatively short journey, albeit one long enough for Addie to rethink her entire existence, the carriage pulled into the gates. Somewhere along the long driveway, it came to a stop, and the door opened.
"Mrs Smith. Miss Smith," a footman greeted. These titles, though still theirs as their identities remained a secret to most, were empty now. Whose name even was Smith? Still she nodded curtly as he helped her out, then her mother.
"His Majesty awaits you in his private parlour," he said. "It's right this way."
Addie remembered, but followed his lead nonetheless as he escorted them to their destination. As they walked, she wondered if he knew who they were and why the King was seeing them for the second time that week. If he did, he made no indication of it; and if he did not, he showed no interest. He only bowed politely when they arrived at the familiar archway that led to the extravagant room before he took his leave, and she marvelled at how profoundly incurious he was.
Queen Anne led the way into the room and her daughter followed wordlessly. Inside, King James sat in conversation with a man whose face Addie seemed to know from somewhere but just couldn't place. He rushed to stand when he saw them. He seemed eager to please, she thought, though she showed nothing on her face but a hint of a frown. She had never been particularly fond of boot-lickers. Her boots in particular remained clean, but plenty of her most manipulative classmates tried – and managed – to get into their teachers' good books.
"Your Majesty," he greeted hurriedly, bowing to the Queen. "It is so good to see you again. You look well."
"Yes, thank you; it has been a while, Lord Westbrook." She nodded, a ghost of a smile on her face. This struck Addie as being very odd – she was so used to her mother being the sort of woman who would beam at the lowest peasant on the street. Her tone of voice, too, was different than she was used to; more...queenly. "The last I saw you must have been when you introduced your nephew to me."
"Oh, yes. It was." He nodded. "How has he been?"
She smiled. "Very good. Adelaide enjoys their lessons together very much."
Are they talking about—? Despite her curiosity, Addie knew not to speak until she had been spoken to.
"Then I'm glad he's been of service," the nobleman said.
"Westbrook," his monarch cut into the conversation. "I'd like you to meet my daughter, Adelaide. Adelaide – this is Duke Stephen Westbrook, a very prominent member of my court."
He turned to her with a broad grin, bowing deeply. "Your Highness. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Your Highness. For a split second her mind failed to register that he was referring to her.
"The pleasure is mine, Your Grace." She curtsied only slightly, remembering that her station was now above the duke's, and King James looked pleased. He invited everyone to sit, and they did.
"Princess Adelaide." Westbrook sounded the title out. "Indeed, a beautiful name for a worthy young lady."
"Thank you, Duke Westbrook." She remained thoroughly unimpressed by his flattery. "Forgive my ignorance, but—Mr Williams is your nephew?"
"Oh, yes, he is," he said. "I must apologise, it rather slipped my mind that no one had told you yet. I hope you've found your lessons with Charles useful."
"I have," she said quickly. "But pray, my lord, if you are nobility then surely he must be, too?"
"Charles is indeed an earl," he confirmed. "But he's left the affairs of Arbough in my care to pursue his studies and teaching. He's always been fairly...free-spirited."
"I see," she said. "Nonetheless, I do wonder why he does not go by Earl Arbough."
The duke shrugged, and Addie saw something like distaste in his eye. "Our Charles has never been one for titles."
"No, I suppose not."
"Adelaide." Her father called her back to attention. "I called you here tonight because I was thinking that you might have Duke Westbrook as your private secretary."
She turned to face him, her face betraying nothing save for a pleasant raise of her eyebrows. "Oh."
"He is very accomplished," King James went on. "His duchy is one of the wealthiest in the kingdom, second only to Couronne. He set up excellent courts, and law-and-order is top-notch."
"How very impressive," she said, but it was impossible to tell if she meant it. She paused for a moment before speaking again. "Your Grace, tell me about poverty in your duchy."
He seemed caught off-guard, but didn't freeze for long. "Poverty... I'm afraid I don't have any concrete figures at the moment, Your Highness."
"A shame," she mused. "I can make my decision about taking you on only after I hear your report, I'm afraid. My private secretary's work ethic really should embody mine."
"Adelaide—" the King made to stop her, but she spoke before he could with a demure smile.
"I'm sure Duke Westbrook's news will be satisfactory, Father," she said. "After all, you have so much faith in him. And, of course, it was his own nephew who taught me the importance of caring for all – the danger of letting the divide between the rich and underprivileged solve itself."
He considered her for a moment, then, seeming to come to a decision, he turned to the slightly shaken nobleman.
"Westbrook. Retrieve what information you need – you have a week."
The duke fought to pick his jaw up again. "... Yes, Your Majesty."
"You're dismissed." He waved him away, and the duke rose and bowed, somewhat unsteady on his feet, and retreated from the room. The princess and queen offered polite nods as he passed them by, a servant shutting the dense parlour door gently behind him after he'd fled.
Then Addie waited for her father to speak again, and he did. "What did you think of him?"
"If I may speak freely, Your Majesty, I don't foresee him producing a satisfactory report," she replied. "I know you hold him in high esteem, and I mean you no disrespect; but he seems extraordinarily out of touch with the pulse of the kingdom."
"'Your Majesty'?" he echoed, as if he hadn't heard anything else she'd said after that.
She blinked. "What else should I call you, Sir?"
"You called me 'Father' earlier," he said, his tone almost accusatory. He tried not to whinge, because he was a grown man, a parent, a monarch; but he hadn't been said 'no' to in a long time, and here was something he wanted in a way he hadn't wanted anything for years.
"I will call you that in front of anyone necessary, Your Majesty. But in private, you are my King." And nothing else. These last words were unspoken, but clear enough – her expression, on the contrary, remained unreadable. He wished she would show something, anything, even contempt; then at least he would not feel so lost.
"Don't say that, Addie." When his wife spoke, she sounded pained. She must have seen something in his eyes.
So he pulled himself together. "It's quite all right, Katherine. Other girls might have been eager to acknowledge me as a father, but Adelaide knows better. Parenthood is something to be earned."
Addie said nothing, only sat in silence. He sounded genuine, but she wasn't sure. How could she be, when he had completely upended her life for his own political ends?—She would've doubted even being his daughter to begin with if not for her mother. Betrayed as she felt, Addie trusted her enough to believe her.
"You are an admirable young woman." King James addressed Addie directly now. "Your mother has clearly raised you well. Even if you were not my own child, you have my respect."
She bowed her head. This she could accept; besides, she hadn't forgotten all her manners. There was a certain way that one had to behave in front of the King. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"May I call you Adelaide?"
"Yes, Sir." She swallowed. "I don't have any other name, after all."
"You do, my dear. We don't use it a lot, but our family name is Carmonte. You may use it, if you wish."
She bit her lip, and when she spoke, she did so quietly. "That won't be necessary."
He had only intended her to provide her with an option, but for some reason her answer filled him with a sinking sadness.
"Then you may go on using Smith," he said, not letting his grief show on his face. "Your mother and I chose it because it is the most common last name in Lastyria, so it is yours, now more than ever. You must represent the people."
She understood this, and indeed it was an honour, even for a reluctant princess; but once again she replied only with a stiff nod.
"Addie, darling." Queen Anne spoke, and this time she seemed willing enough to meet her gaze. "Come and take a turn with me about the maze."
Still she hesitated. "Mama..."
"Please. I promise you'll like it."
She sighed. There would always be a piece of her heart that her mother held. This piece would always yield to her mother's will – her mother, a beaming, warm woman who could always everything right again, even after a long day of cutting laughter and snide remarks. Her mother, who had hidden everything from her but whom Addie knew loved her more than anyone else ever could.
And so she stood, curtsied to her King, and acceded to her mother's request. The maze was a distance away from the private parlour, but it was worth the journey; the hedge maze was humongous and beautiful, lit by small glass lamps placed on the ground at regular intervals. Queen Anne had been right; she loved it.
"It's wonderful," she murmured, taking the view in.
Her mother smiled. "This is your father's favourite place in the whole Palace."
"Oh." Addie didn't know what she could say.
"You know why we did it, don't you, darling?" There was desperation in the Queen's voice, an urgent need to know that her daughter understood. "We couldn't lose you."
For a full minute there was only the sound of the crickets, and she felt her breathing go shallow. Would Adelaide never forgive her? What would she do then?—
"May I speak freely, Mama?"
She breathed a sigh of relief. An easy enough question to answer. "Since when have you ever had to ask permission?"
"For all this to happen now—I feel used," Addie confessed. "It's as if I only matter because of the Ottoman. As if the King wouldn't want me around otherwise."
"Your father has been waiting to have you back for the past nineteen years," Queen Anne responded quietly. "But there were people after your life. The last of them were apprehended only two months ago."
"What people?"
"Rebels. But they don't matter now; your father's government has thrown the last of them in prison." Adelaide opened her mouth to say something, but her mother continued speaking before she could start. "And then we had to think about how to transition you back into life – I swear to you, Addie, everything we did we did for you."
"And what of the Ottoman Empire?"
"A real threat, but nothing you should really concern yourself with. They have a greater dispute with the British than with us. For now, anyway, they're only a reason your father needed to give to you and to the people for your reintroduction."
"Why did he tell me otherwise?"
"Because he is a King." Queen Anne smiled resignedly. "He rarely lets his own feelings show."
~~~