Scrubbing floors was not exactly the picture Kaycee would paint in her mind when told by her mother to expect "hard work."
In fact, when her mother handed her a brush, a cloth, and a soapy water bucket this morning, she almost laughed out loud. She considers this to be a punishment? She must be sorely mistaken, she had thought to herself. Especially considering how cleanly she thought their floors to be already, she was convinced that with a bit of soap and water, things should look brand new.
But oh, how foolish she was. She regrets even thinking for a second that the task would be simple.
Because as she scrubbed the same spot of the floor again, on her hands and knees, she realized it was actually her worst nightmare. She had been at it for what seemed like hours now, going over the same spots in the same room, not being allowed to stop because her mother did not deem them clean enough. It took all her willpower not to pull her mother onto the floor with her, just to make her see how wrong she was.
It was impossible the floor wasn't clean by now. At this point, it was solely to put her through hell.
"This is pointless, meaningless garbage," she ranted to herself, scrubbing so harshly at the floor with the brush that her knuckles had begun to turn white around the handle. "Oh, you don't want a husband, Kaycee? That's too bad. We must make you act like a housewife anyway, then."
The sound of the brush as it hit the floor had begun to sound like nails on a chalkboard. When her mother came back to check on her again, Kaycee was about ready to start begging. "Mother, please, please just let me do something else. I will wash the dishes. I will wash the clothes. I will run around the house forty times screaming about how much I am the biggest idiot around. Please."
Before she can answer, a voice from the other room shouts, "Mother! We'll be heading out to town in just a minute. Do you have anything particular you need?"
His words make her mother's lips upturn in a smirk, glancing from Kaycee to the floors and then back. "One second, Devon!"
Immediately, Kaycee knows what's going on. Her mother plans on sending her to run errands as a sort of punishment. As if leaving this house, or these newly-cleaned floors, is an actual punishment. Desperate to keep her on the same train of thought, Kaycee puts on a face of displeasure, groaning loudly. "No, I take it back. Anything but running errands, please-"
"It's too late, I've made up my mind," her mother says quickly, turning away to write something on a piece of paper. While her back is turned, Kaycee throws her hands up in praise, pleased with her sudden acting skills. Turning back to face Kaycee, her mother hands the paper to her, the smug look still on her face. "This is what I need you to bring home. Make sure you buy these things exactly, or you'll be right back to scrubbing the floors tomorrow. No getting off task, or interacting with strangers, or you'll be back to scrubbing-"
"What if I meet an eligible bachelor and have a sudden change of heart?" Kaycee asks sarcastically.
Her mother's lips press into a thin line. "Don't smart off, Kaycee. You know exactly what I meant. Now get up, go get dressed, and meet your brother and father in front of the house. Quickly."
Kaycee doesn't leave her time to regret her decision, muttering "Yes, mother," as she clamored to her feet, dashing upstairs with renewed energy.
Before long, she's bustling back downstairs in a clean blue dress, faded from use over time but still her favorite nonetheless. Her mother gives her a quizzical look as she passes by to get to the front door, but Kaycee is much too quick to be stopped- in seconds, she is out the door, past her waiting brother and father, and in the carriage they'll be taking into the city.
Devon slides into the seat next to her with raised eyebrows. "Why do you look so happy? Isn't this your punishment?"
"In mother's eyes, yes," Kaycee states. "But in my eyes, this is a day of adventure."
He snatches the paper mother gave her out of her hands, looking over it once before bursting into laughter. "You seriously believe that looking for... apples on a bargain will be an adventure?"
Kaycee snatches it back, scowling. "Yes, Devon, that's why I said it. I don't suppose you have any idea of what fun is, though, do you?"
"I know exactly what fun is, and that's why I'm tagging along." Devon counters, crossing his arms.
The carriage jolts forward, signaling their departure from the house. "Is something wrong back there?" Their father shouts from where he sits in the front, directing the horses.
"No sir!" They both shout in unison, and then shoot each other a glare.
"I don't understand why you can consider this trip fun, but I cannot," Kaycee says, voice lower this time.
He laughs. "Because you believe it will be fun for different reasons. You believe that marveling at the apples will be fun."
"And you? What, do you think following father around like an old, mindless drone will be entertaining?"
"I'm neither old nor mindless, dear sister," he says, "and just for that, I do not believe you deserve to know."
"Oh, don't be dramatic, Devon," Kaycee snaps, knowing by the look on his face that he would end up telling her anyway.
He hums. "Hm. Fine. If you must know... I've been meeting with a girl here."
Kaycee's eyes widen so much that she fears they might pop out of her skull. "What?? On errand trips?"
"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds less romantic," he laughs.
Kaycee furrows her eyebrows. "How else would I say it? Did your fingers brush over the crate of oranges? Did she help you lift some plant seed into the carriage? Did you-"
"I get it, stop talking," Devon cuts off, shaking his head.
She smiles. "Sorry. Force of habit. I'm happy for you, though. Does mother know?"
"Of course not. And I trust I can count on you to keep it that way," he responds.
"As long as you agree to back me up when it comes to this husband talk, from now on."
Tilting his head to the side, he shrugs. "I'll think about it."
"So will I."
He nods, and for the rest of the ride, the two sit in a comfortable silence. Kaycee busies herself by singing softly out of the tiny window on the door, watching trees and birds pass by with a small grin on her face. Occupying herself makes the ride seem much shorter, and in what feels like just ten minutes or so, the carriage is coming to an abrupt halt.
The door swings open to reveal her father, beaming for a reason unbeknownst to her, waving his arm as if to usher them outside. Devon allows her to step down first, offering an arm to help her- which she forcefully pushes away, rolling her eyes.
Once Devon exits as well, her father closes the door, looking between the two of them. "I assume your mother already briefed you two on what you should be doing?"
"Yes sir, we have a list of goods to buy," Devon answers for her. She doesn't say anything about the fact that the list is for her, not the two of them- she knows he's only saying this so their father doesn't suspect he is off with a girl.
He nods slowly, looking around at the passerby. "Very well. Be good. Stay close. We will meet back here when you have collected everything."
Kaycee vigorously nods in response, wanting nothing more than to get started. With a slight shrug of his shoulders, their father walks away, in the opposite direction of the city shops. She assumes this means he is on some sort of business errand.
As soon as he rounds a corner, Devon pats her on the shoulder. "Alright, be careful. I'll meet you back here."
"Got it," she replies. "Don't scare the girl away."
Devon had already begun to walk away, so he shouted over his shoulder, "Didn't plan on it!"
With a grin, Kaycee finally looks around to examine her surroundings. There are more people around than she'd ever seen in one area- which is not saying much, considering she doesn't usually leave the house. She begins walking towards a tiny booth with crates of fresh produce, the first thing on her mother's grocery list.
The man working the booth grins at her. "Good afternoon? Come for some produce?"
"Yes, actually!" She replies kindly. "Do you have a sack for me to put them in?"
He nods, reaching underneath him (where she cannot see) and bringing his arm back up to reveal just what she was looking for. Grabbing it from him, she thanks him, and then wanders from crate to crate to collect every item on the list.
It is a weird sort of relaxing, she thinks, to grab and inspect fresh fruit before placing it into the bag. To hear the bustle of people around her, the chatter as they pass, the conversation of passerby as they, too, come to buy fruit. It is so out of the realm of what she considers a punishment that she genuinely wonders if her mother intended to punish her at all.
But then she remembers the smug look on her face, and scolds her own foolishness.
Finally at the end of the list, the last thing she needs are five apples. The sack is heavy now, but nothing she can't handle, so she makes her way over to the apple crate without much hassle. When she looks inside, it appears to be barren- but, lucky for her, there are exactly five apples left.
Mindlessly, now having a routine, she examines each apple, and then places it gently into the sack with the others. She has made it through four, hand reaching for the fifth, when another hand shoots forward and grasps the thing between its fingers at the same time as her.
Knocked from what felt like a dream, she gasps, grip around the fruit tightening. The weird feeling of someone else's fingers over hers is momentarily forgotten, for the only thing she could think about is not letting go. "Excuse me, but I believe I was just about to grab this one-"
"I believe I was just about to grab it as well," comes a deep voice from beside her.
Her gaze shoots to her left, where, to her absolute horror, a man stands smirking. She narrows her eyes, sure he looks familiar, but that seems to be just enough distraction for him to quickly peel the apple from her grip.
Immediately, she reaches to snatch it back, but he moves his hand high above his head. She grunts. "Give it back, thief! My mother will have my head on a silver platter if I don't return with exactly five apples!"
"My father will quite probably kick me out if I don't return with at least one," the man retorts.
Kaycee huffs. "With all due respect, I am quite sure that the wrath of my mother far overpowers what you may consider the 'wrath' of your father over just one apple."
"I would like to think that, with no knowledge of me or my personal life, that is an outlandish assumption," he says simply.
For a moment, she is struck with regret, realizing that he is completely right. How dense of her to become so rude over an apple. But, as she comes to this realization, her eyes brush over him and come to another. Instantly, she feels as if her throat closes. "Wha- oh, I mean- you are-"
Similarly, something seems to click for him, because he slowly lets his arm fall, a confused grin on his face. "Oh, hey! You're balcony girl!"
"Balcony girl? What do you-" She begins, but then the memory of the embarrassing moment after her argument with her mother washes over her. "Oh, you cannot mean you saw me from that distance!"
His grin, although never changing, now looks to her to be more like a smirk. "Ah, so it was you. And who was the lady that called my name in the first place?"
"What does it matter to you? She could be my grandmother, and it wouldn't make a difference," Kaycee rants, rubbing her hand down her face in frustration.
"So.. my take from that sentence is that she isn't your grandmother," he decides, voice low, as if he were solving a crime that he did not want anyone else to hear. "And, judging by how you acted with her, she isn't your mother. Oh, and she looked to be young, so my guess is... sister?"
Against her will, Kaycee finally cracks a grin. "Wow, your use of deductive reasoning is incredibly impressive. "
"Oh, really? Do you think it would work well enough to deduce your name?"
"Go ahead, give it a try," she says with a smile, obviously planning something. " And while you're doing that, please excuse me while I-"
Cutting herself off, in what she hopes to be an act of surprise, she lunges for the hand carrying the apple. Instead, the wood-cutter man pulls his hand away quickly, leaving Kaycee stumbling in his direction... and then right into his arms.
He laughs, and then, to her surprise, slides the apple into her bag himself. She rises to her own feet shakily, beyond confused. "What was that for?"
"What was what for?" He plays dumb, shrugging his shoulders.
She raises her eyebrows. "The apple in the bag?"
"Ohh, that," he replies, as if just realizing it. "I was being nice. I truthfully didn't need it in the first place."
Now, her confusion masked any feelings of frustration she would have normally voiced at the fact that he had wasted valuable time she could have spent getting other goods. "Sorry? If you didn't need it, what was the point in fighting over it?"
"Ah, was that fighting? You have an interesting idea of what fighting is," he chuckles. When she continues to stare expectantly, he shrugs again. "Maybe I needed an excuse to talk to you."
For the first time, her cheeks heat up at the words a man has directed at her. She covers it up by clearing her throat, looking down at the ground. "A simple 'hello' would have worked nicely, thank you very much."
"I have a feeling a 'hello' wouldn't have sufficed with you. Am I wrong?"
Knowing he isn't wrong, she turns to face the vendor, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. Giving him a smile, she passes him the sack of fruit, asking politely, "Is it possible to purchase these?"
Just as the vendor nods, the man comes up right next to her. "I'm Sean."
"I don't recall asking for your name. In fact, I was just about to buy this fruit," she says stubbornly.
To her surprise, he laughs. "Yes, but I asked for yours, so it's common courtesy to give you mine as well. Now it's your turn."
The vendor tells her the amount needed, and she pulls out a smaller sack which she uses to hold her money. But before she can pay, Sean passes the man a couple coins of his own. Kaycee shakes her head violently. "No, no, you don't need to do that-"
"I'm aware." He states.
Her mouth opens and closes, searching for a response, but she cannot find one. Instead, her default attitude returns, the first sentence she can form being: "Why are you doing all of this?"
"Didn't I already tell you? I'm trying to be nice," he answers.
She shakes her head. "No, but this is how all men start. And then they want your hand in marriage, and then they want you to scrub their floors and care for their children and wash their clothes, and then you die having accomplished nothing in the grand scheme of things."
Sean's eyes widen, a laugh escaping his mouth incredulously. "You sound like you're looking forward to marriage."
"Of course not. I'm a woman. Why would I be looking forward to marriage?"
He hums, his mind seeming a bit more occupied than it was before. "I'll assure you now, though, I was not trying to... to marry you, or whatever you assumed I was doing. Genuinely just trying to be nice."
She gazes into his eyes with her own narrowed, but is unable to see anything that would say he isn't being genuine. She sighs apologetically. "I'm sorry, I have just.. had a long week. I hope my harshness didn't put you off too much."
"I'm still here, aren't I?" He says, his grin returning.
She feels her own returning as well. "Yes, I guess you are. But on that note, I think it's well past the time I should leave. I still have more errands."
He nods knowingly. "Alright. Good luck with your mother."
She slings the sack over her shoulder. "Thank you, Sir Sean."
He makes a face. "No need for the formalities. Sean works fine."
"Okay, Sean. Perhaps I'll see you around."
He grins. "Perhaps you will."
And before she can get sucked back into anymore conversation, she moves past him, headed toward the rest of the booths. She doesn't make it that far, though, before she hears from over her shoulder:
"Hey, wait! I never got your name!"
Shaking her head, she turns around for a brief moment, just to yell back: "I'm Kaycee!"
She doesn't wait for a response.
•
When she finally arrives back to the carriage, Devon and her father are already there, waiting. Her father's eyes light up when he sees her, his face immediately looking relieved. "Oh, thank goodness, for a moment I got worried."
She gave Devon a weird look. He shrugged, saying simply, "I told him about how we split up to get stuff by ourselves and I couldn't find you after. He got a bit scared. But I told him you were fine."
Kaycee nods, realizing that's the excuse Devon gave him for not arriving back with her.
Her father gave them one last look, before waving them back into the carriage. The two oblige, taking a seat beside each other.
Once the door closes, Devon turns to look at her. "What took you so long?"
"I, uh... ran into someone while buying fruit." She admits, unsure that she had the capacity to lie anyways.
Much like hers did when he told her about the girl, his eyes widen. "Someone? As in, a boy?"
"What does it matter?" Kaycee asks frustratedly, refusing to look at him.
He laughs, sounding a bit mocking. "Oh, it was a boy! Tell me, how did it feel to make fun of me for meeting a girl, and then meet a boy almost immediately after?"
She glares at him, clearly not as entertained as he seems. "I'm not in love with him, as I assume you are with the girl. I just met him. And I also made it very clear that I did not want marriage or anything of the sort."
"Are you an idiot? This could be the opportunity you're looking for! You could finally get mother off your ass-"
"Devon!" She scolds, shaking her head. "What makes you think I even like this person? Or want that? If not having a husband means having mother on my... on my tail, then so be it. It's what I want."
He shakes his head disapprovingly, gazing out of the window. Not turning to look at her, he says slowly, "There will be a ball at the end of the week."
"A ball? I've never been to one," she replies. "What business do we have attending a ball? Mother hasn't mentioned it-"
"Mother doesn't know yet. I plan to tell her tonight, after she's had a generous enough glass of wine that she'll be less likely to use me for combat training."
Kaycee snorts, slapping a hand to her mouth so that her father won't hear. "You think our mother will say yes to attending a ball with less than a week's notice? If you really believe that, you're the one who has had wine."
"I don't think it's so far fetched. Dresses don't take long to purchase." He says, but he sounds much more unsure of himself than he looks.
She shakes her head knowingly. "Oh, you poor, sweet, naive male. One dress would be simple. But a dress for me, and Kylie, and our two younger sisters, as well as herself? You must be out of your mind."
He opens his mouth, but no words come out. Continuing, she asks, "Why do you even want to go to a ball in the first place? You never said."
"I.... Hm. How do I put this? The girl I've been meeting.. you remember the one, right?"
She giggles. "Oh, dear. Yes, I remember. Stop stalling."
"Well... I may have just learned of her status. And... she may be a princess."
Kaycee's jaw drops, the words spilling out of her mouth before she can help herself: "You've been meeting with a prin-"
Before she can finish her sentence, he claps his hand to her mouth, shushing her. "Use your brain! Father is right there."
She bites his palm, and he yanks his hand away, her continuing in a much softer tone, "Sorry. But a princess? You call me the dense one, and yet you haven't had a clue this whole time?"
"I knew she was an important figure! I just didn't know she was... that important." He runs a hand through his short hair, clearly troubled, but Kaycee can't help but continue to laugh. Devon ignores her, shaking his head. "But, as I was saying, her family will be attending this ball. And, she is expecting me to come with mine. And also, probably, to ask for her hand."
Kaycee grins. "Then you better hope that mother says yes."
His worried expression changes into a smug one when he looks in her direction. "Oh, with your help, I'm sure she will."
Her face falls. "No, no, no, I won't partake in any of this! I'm just a bystander, anyway!"
•
"Would you like this glass of wine, mother?" Kaycee asks, a forced smile plastered onto her face.
Devon nods encouragingly from his spot on the couch, quickly looking away when their mother shoots a glance his way. Raising her eyebrows, as if to say why not?, she delicately grabs the glass from her. "Thank you, honey."
"Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me-"
"Leaving so soon, Kaycee?" Devon cuts off, eyes wide. Kaycee's own widen, her head shaking slightly. He continues on, "Come, have a seat! Perhaps you can tell mother about your adventure in the city?"
Folding her arms and sending Devon a glare that could kill, she plasters a wider smile on. "Oh, I would love to, but unfortunately all that hard, miserable work has made me incredibly tired! I'm sure she would love to hear about your adventure, though!"
"It'll only be a couple minutes! Surely you don't feel so exhausted you will fall asleep that quickly?" He pushes.
Kaycee eye twitches, her grip on her own arms tightening. To deny him again would make it obvious that she just doesn't want to be there, and risking that attitude in front of her mother would be a death sentence. To her surprise, her mother pipes up, "I'd like to hear from you both, actually. Come have a seat, Kaycee"
Well, at least I tried, she thinks, coming around the couch her mother sits on and taking a seat beside Devon instead. Her mother doesn't notice, eyes closed briefly as she takes a couple gulps of her wine.
"Oh, brother, you owe me big time! I expect you to wash my dishes for weeks! Months, maybe! I'll tell you much, much more about it later," she says, in a hushed tone that completely contradicts the bright smile on her face.
Hearing the whispers, her mother's eyes shoot open. "Is something wrong? I thought you'd be telling me of what happened today."
"Of course, mother. My apologies." Kaycee says quickly. After a deep breath, she begins in her retelling of things, making sure to only highlight the most boring of details, and to leave out her encounter with Sean entirely. By the time she's finished, it looks as if she's practically lulled her mother to sleep, eyes closed and grip on the wine glass looking much looser than before.
To pass things on to Devon, she elbows him in the side. "But Devon's day was much more interesting, wasn't it, Devon?"
He gulps, rubbing his hands together nervously. "Uh... It was, indeed. But before I begin, I think I must confess something, mother."
The woman in question opens her eyes, sitting up a bit. "Oh? What would you need to confess?"
"On my errand runs with father, I... have met a girl."
This seems to wake their mother up. But, to her surprise, she doesn't look angry. Not yet, at least. "A girl? Really? Why haven't you told me?"
He pauses, swallowing hard. "I guess I was worried you may not accept her. Which would make things a little harder... especially for this next bit."
Her gaze remains on him, but she doesn't say anything. He takes this as his cue to continue. "I discovered today that she was of much higher status than I originally assumed. She is a princess. The daughter of King Arthur. And she invited me, and all of my family, to a ball."
"To ask for her hand in marriage in front of her family, I assume," her mother says, sounding a lot more calm than she expected. Devon nods, and she sighs. "I accept her. Of course I do. She's a princess, Devon. I just wish you would have told me earlier."
He nods, looking down at the floor. "I understand. That is completely my fault, and I apologize."
"It's alright, son," she replies. For a moment, all is calm, and Kaycee believes that they may have just narrowly dodged a bullet. But, suddenly, her mother seems to remember something. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask. When is the ball?"
Both children freeze. Kaycee was just about to rise and head to her room, but the nonchalant way in which her mother said those words glued her to her seat. She assumed that the ball would be far enough in advance that she could plan.
She was mistaken.
The next thing she did was set her wine glass down on a table beside her, which was another red flag for her kids. "Devon? When is the ball?"
Kaycee gives him a look, which she hopes can communicate the words just get it over with, but she knows better than that. Luckily, he clears his throat yet again, shifting in his seat.
"It's, uh... it's....."
"Spit it out, son," their mother says, voice coming out in a rush. She was panicked. Kaycee couldn't blame her.
Finally, Devon takes a breath. "It's at the end of the week. This week. Saturday night."
The silence which followed was deafening. She could probably hear a pin drop from upstairs if she had enough energy to focus her ears. But, alas, she most definitely did not- the only thing she could focus on was the way her mother froze up completely, hands gripping each other on her legs.
After what seemed like an hour, she finally spoke lowly, "You have exactly thirty seconds to remove yourself from my sight, before I go completely mad."
For once, Kaycee followed her instructions with no pushback whatsoever.
In fact, she was positive she had never run to her room so fast in her life.
•••
a/n: hi again :)))))
sorry for how wordy this is, i wrote it a while ago and got a little bit carried away. the only other one that's as long as this one is the next one, which is the ball ;), so don't worry.
i hope you guys have been good!!! and i hope this is at least a little bit enjoyable!! please let me know if there's anything i can work on, or if there's just anything in general that seems off. i would hate to be putting out stuff that people wouldn't want to read, you know?
anyways, happy friday. i'll be posting another chapter next week- this is the last one for now. hope you have a great weekend!