The Prince's Bride (Part 2) Page 12

  And we all did.

  “As I was saying,” she said, lifting her glass, which then allowed Gale and Eliza to do the same, a butler coming to fill it with wine, and I copied her. “We knew you were trying to bluff us, which was why we did not let up, and, in the end, you see who has won.”

  “Yes, Mother, me.” He grinned, looking at me.

  “How selfish of you,” his mother teased and looked at me. “We all won, so welcome once again, Odette.”

  “Welcome,” Gale and Eliza said, lifting their glasses.

  “Thank you.” I grinned. This day had been full of so much, but this was my favorite so far.

  “Now that she is part of the family, Mother, can you please ask her to sing for you?” Eliza questioned—no, nearly begged. “She can refuse me, but not you.”

  “You are annoyingly persistent, Eliza,” Gale said, taking a sip of his wine. “I am sure you will hear at some point; why must it be now?”

  “If you were in front of the great poets, Shakespeare, Frost, Neruda, Wilde, Browning, any of them, right now, would you wait to hear them recite something?” she pressed back.

  “Wow,” I whispered, putting my hand over my heart. “I have never been so complimented. Thank you.”

  “It is hardly a compliment and more like an obsession,” Gale muttered, frowning. “I have given you better ones.”

  “You have never been able to share, Gale.” Elspeth snickered, sitting back as the butlers brought out dinner. “Look how jealous you are that Odette was moved by your sister instead of you.”

  “I am hardly jealous—”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “It sounded a bit like jealousy,” Eliza stated.

  “You are,” Elspeth said.

  We all had spoken at the same time, causing him to look at each of us. He frowned. “I see this is a conspiracy against me.”

  “As you can see, my son is prone to dramatics,” Elspeth said, lifting her soup spoon.

  “It’s all right. I am used to it. My mother is prone to dramatics, too. Apparently, I attract those sorts of people,” I said, the smell of the salmon reaching my nose.

  I looked down, recognizing the salmon chowder soup, and happily, I lifted my spoon and brought the soup to my lips. In the corner of my eye, I saw Elspeth nod. But to what? My eating?

  “She says that as if she is not dramatic, either,” Gale replied before taking a bite as well.

  Swallowing, I held my hand to my lips before speaking. “I am not.”

  “You are too,” he shot back.

  “You see how they just forget we are here, Mother?” Eliza spoke out. “We could rise from this table right now, and they would still be going back and forth.”

  “Yes, I do see that.” Elspeth looked between us, her eyebrow raised. “It is one of the side effects of being in love, and they are drunk on it.”

  “Mother, please,” Gale grumbled, shaking his head, taking another bite of his soup.

  Eliza laughed, looking at me and lifting her glass again. “We should also congratulate you for winning my brother’s cold heart.”

  “I never thought I would see the day.” Elspeth snickered.

  “We have gone beyond conspiracy and now entered full-blown defamation of character,” Gale complained, looking at me seriously. “I—”

  “I cannot even imagine it,” I said sarcastically to him. “You are the sweetest and warmest man I have ever known.”

  He smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Ugh, Mother, make them stop. We are trying to eat.” Eliza groaned but enjoyed teasing us both.

  She opened her mouth, but she did not get a chance to speak as the doors opened. We all looked up as a beautiful brunette woman stepped inside, dressed in all black. Her eyes were gray, her lips pink, on her finger was a large diamond, and on her chest was a diamond brooch I had seen before. It was the Monterey crest. In her brunette hair was a black ribbon bow.

  “Sophia,” Elspeth said her name in surprise.

  The woman, Sophia, curtsied elegantly and with ease. “Your Majesty, I beg your pardon for arriving so late for dinner.”

  “Come, my dear, I am pleased you could join us.” When Elspeth stood, we all rose as well as she ordered one of the butlers, “Bring another chair.”

  I did not understand since there was an empty chair beside me on both sides, but I did not speak. Gale and Eliza both offered her a slight smile and nodded as we all waited for the butlers to shift the chair.

  “Excuse me, miss,” one of them said as he moved my seat down one more along with the table settings, placing another chair in the middle space now beside me.

  “Odette.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I looked up to the queen, eyes wide she directed her attention to the woman now standing beside her.

  Her gray eyes were cold and staring at me.

  “This is Sophia De Loutherbergh, the Duchess of Elmburgh. Arthur’s wife.” She paused before saying again, “Arthur’s widow.”

  That was it.

  There was a woman at the funeral dressed in all black with a black veil. I could not tell who she was. Though I was not really looking for her anyway.

  “Sophia,” Elspeth said to her. “This is Odette Rochelle Wyntor, Gale’s fiancée.”

  “Good evening,” I said to her politely, not sure what I was supposed to do.

  She spoke back in Ersovian. I did not know if a voice could sound perfect, but hers seemed to sound that way to me even though I did not catch what she was saying.

  “Sophia, she has not yet learned Ersovian, so we shall all be speaking English for now,” Elspeth said to her before her eyes met the butlers. “Please sit.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Sophia said, walking over and standing beside me, a sweet flowery scent coming off her.

  We all waited for Elspeth to sit before sitting ourselves. Before I even realized she did not have one, a plate was brought out and then placed in front of her.

  “Thank you, Parsworth,” she said to the butler.

  He smiled slightly and nodded before he backed into the corner.

  The once lively and joyful atmosphere around the table vanished, and everyone ate quietly. Every once in a while, each of them glanced at Sofia and then went back to eating their soup. Because of that lack of conversation, we finished quickly, the butlers taking it and bringing out the next course.

  Duck breast over what smelled like cranberries with potatoes and vegetables. Again, my mouth watered. But I glanced over the table to find them quietly staring down, all of them lost in their thoughts. The air was thick with grief, and I could not stand it. I looked to see anything I could comment on before speaking.

  “Are we expecting anyone else?” I asked.

  But instead of easing a conversation, they all froze, stiffening. Gale met my eyes, and he looked, well, I did not know that look. The queen ate as if I hadn’t spoken.

  “The king always has a seat at the table, whether he is here or not,” Sophia answered coldly while cutting into her duck, not sparing me a glance, either. “The other seat is for Arthur. It is customary to keep a seat for a recently departed member of the royal family during the period of mourning.”

  Silence again.

  “Thank you for telling me,” I said gently, trying not to sound as dumb as I did for asking the question. I should have stopped talking, but something wouldn’t let me. Maybe it was the look on Gale’s face. Perhaps it was how much I hated awkward situations. I glanced back to Gale, seeing he had stopped eating and was looking at the empty chair in front of him. And I knew it was mostly because of that I had to speak.

  “It is a good tradition,” I said, sitting up a bit. “I wished we had done that when my father died suddenly. It was probably healthier than me taking a bat to all of his things.”

  “You did what?” Eliza gasped.

  I glanced up at her. “I went to my father’s house. It was a few days after he passed. I do not know. Maybe I was hoping it wasn’t real, an
d he’d be there like always, working in his library. But he wasn’t. He worked so much I barely got to see him. So, when all of his things and all of the work he had given his time to were just there, as he had left them, I was so upset. I grabbed one of his baseball bats and smashed his 3D models, then his computers, then anything in sight. I swung so hard that I fell, and of course, since I was smashing everything, there was broken glass and things on the floor. That’s how I got this scar.”

  I lifted my hand to show the faded line. Eliza leaned in to see, and her mouth turned up. She opened her mouth to speak, but Sophia cut in before her.

  “And did you feel better after that tantrum?” she asked, and I looked to see her staring at me. It was creepy how dead-eyed she looked.

  However, I ignored it and spoke to her like I didn’t notice. “A little but nowhere close to enough. Afterward, while I was sitting in his wrecked living room with a bottle and a bloody hand, I felt a bit ashamed. I had destroyed his work because I was jealous of it and mad at him. But soon, I remembered how happy he was to do it, so it felt like I was hurting him. I tried to clean up. That failed—my hand wasn’t letting me do it.” I laughed, remembering. “I had people pack everything, and I spent my time trying to rebuild his models.”

  “It took me a year to fix most of the memories I broke of you. For the ones I lost forever, I am sorry. It’s my fault, but still...” Eliza repeated my lyrics.

  “I blame you because I love you, and you’ll forgive me because you loved me too.” I finished, nodding at her.

  She grinned then laughed. “That song was about your dad?”

  “Yes. What did you think it was about?” It was always fun hearing what fans sometimes thought.

  “I thought it was about...” she trailed off.

  “You thought it was about what?” I leaned forward, more interested.

  She shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know, some man, boyfriend you loved and lost.”

  “It couldn’t be another man,” Gale finally spoke again, his eyes narrowing on me.

  “Why not? I liked other people before you.”

  “Really, who? Chef Tremaine?” he asked with a wicked grin. “How cute.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I wanted to throw something at him. Instead, I glared, and all I could say was, “New topic.”

  “Wait, no, who is Chef Tremaine?” Eliza asked, looking between us. “I want to know.”

  “Well, he is—”

  “Eliza, do you want to know about the wig your brother glued onto his head while we were in Seattle?” I asked her quickly.

  “What?” Both Eliza and Elspeth questioned then looked at him

  As he glared, I grinned back. “I do not know what she is speaking about,” he lied.

  “Really?” My eyebrow lifted. I reached into the pocket of my dress—thank God for them—pulling out my personal phone and not the new one the palace had given me. “Did you really think I did not get evidence?”

  “You did not,” he grumbled.

  “I did so,” I replied, nodding.

  “Let me see!” Eliza squealed, already excited and outstretching her hands.

  I unlocked the phone, but before I could give it to her, Sophia spoke beside me, “Miss Wyntor, cell phones are not to be brought to dinner, let alone passed around the table. It is considered very rude here.”

  I froze.

  Slowly, I brought my hand back down.

  “Sophia is correct, Odette. Do not do so again,” Elspeth said gently. “But as you have brought it this time unknowingly, you may show us this evidence during Pašrévaka.”

  “Mother”—Gale groaned—“that is not necessary.”

  “I shall be the judge of that.” She smirked. “Who knows, maybe I shall like the look on you? If not, I shall get a very good laugh.”

  Gale tiredly looked at me with a small smirk on his lips. “And here I thought you cared about me. Now you wish to make me a laughingstock to my own mother.”

  “My mom says if you don’t think your parents have been laughing at you your whole life, you either do not have parents or you do not have a life.” I shrugged.

  “Mother has definitely laughed at you,” Eliza said to Gale. “Father, I can’t see it. Yelling for sure, but I do not know what you could have ever done to make him laugh outright.”

  Elspeth giggled, and we all looked at her. This regal queen had just giggled. She lifted her hand to her lips, composing herself. “You must forgive me. I simply remembered something from your childhood that had your father in tears.”

  “What?” Gale asked her.

  “When you were a boy, you got stuck in a tree without...without your pants.” She snickered again. “After you were safely down, your father kept asking through his laughter, ‘He had no pants, Elspeth. How did the boy lose his pants?’ He was utterly confused and thoroughly amused.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  Eliza broke out laughing.

  Gale hung his head, shaking it in embarrassment.

  Sophia. Well, Sophia just ate quietly.

  Chapter 11

  I did not know which was more chilling—the deafening silence or the feelings of the woman creating that silence. My sister-in-law, Sophia De Loutherbergh, sat quietly in the chair nearest to the fireplace, drinking wine and holding us all hostage with the weight of her grief.

  Since the end of dinner, all of us tried to do what Pašrévaka was meant for, hold a conversation. However, each time any of us would begin to lighten the mood, Sophia would speak ever so softly and yet ever so coldly, chilling everything over again. Odette had managed a few lighter moments, but in the end, we all ended up as we were now. Quietly drinking and waiting for this portion of the night to be over. My sister was now distracting herself with Persephone, though the dog clearly wished to go back to her owner, Sophia. I did not like the spoiled creature, and yet even I pitied it as she sniffed and whimpered at Sophia’s skirt only to be outright ignored. Unable to take much more of it, Eliza gathered her into her arms and began feeding the dog treats, clearly seeking to distract it and herself from the present reality.

  This was not how I wished to welcome Odette.

  Nor was it what I wanted for my family. We were grieving, yes, but I did not want them to sit in this pain. Yet I did not know what to do. I could not leave, nor could I make Sophia leave. If Arthur came back from the grave for anything, it would be to terrorize me for dishonoring his beloved wife.

  So, we sat in deafening silence, drinking.

  I glanced over at Odette, who was turned away from our family and glancing back at the family den where the piano sat next to the window.

  I opened my mouth to ask her if she wished to play, but she spoke first before I could.

  “Do you mind if play?” Odette questioned, turning back to us.

  “Not at all,” my mother replied gently. “Someone should, as that piano has been preserved for only gross neglect whenever the queen dowager is away.”

  “The queen dowager? As in Queen Arabella,” Odette asked to my surprise, rising from her seat.

  “Yes, my grandmother,” I answered, happy to speak again. “She is fond of the piano and tried to make us all learn, but none of us were any good.”

  “You were all plenty good, simply not good enough for the queen mother,” my mother said, and I glanced at her, trying to see if there would be any resentment on her face.

  Everyone knew my grandmother was not fond of Mother and vice versa, which was why my grandmother preferred to spend her time in Donaè Castle in the north. However, my mother let nothing away.

  “It is the most beautiful piano I have ever seen,” Odette said, and when I looked back, she was beside it, running her hands over the golden engravings for a moment. Then without any reservation or thought, she stepped out of her heels, placing them carefully under the bench before taking a seat.

  She pressed one key.

  Then another.

  And then smiled, stretching her fingers befo
re they touched the keys, and in the blink of an eye, a dozen notes flew by. The room filled with soft notes, and it was as if the sun had appeared, the heavy cloud of sorrow and pain vanishing. She had everyone’s attention, my mother, my sister, the butlers who stood not to be seen, Persephone, and even that of Sophia, though I could not read the expression on her face.

  The more I listened, the more words came to my mind to speak. When her brown eyes glanced up and met mine, the rest of the world fell away. I watched until I could no longer be so far away. Placing my glass down onto the table beside me, I rose from my seat, going to her, so she looked away. Beside her, my hand trembled as I fought my desire to touch her, my fading reason urging me to remember we were not alone. So, I stood there only for a second longer before taking the seat beside her. The notes she played flooded my mind, and the words I wanted to say became clearer. I did not have the talent for singing, but I could speak over her melody, and I wanted to, so I did.

  “It is not by a ray, which the sun rises and falls.

  But by my memories of you.

  Words I revised a thousand times,

  The walls of my heart disallowed me to speak.

  What I feel only treasuries can keep.

  Be it not for your hellos and goodbyes

  Never would I have fallen this deep.

  Now my soul bellows to your soul

  Desperately for a reply,

  Endeavoring forever to have you at my side.

  By you my Achilles' heel and Golden Fleece

  I decipher the days.

  Dawn is revealed at the sound of your voice

  And dusk is the masterpiece of stars in your eyes.

  That is by which I know the sun rises and falls.”

  When I finished, she looked at me and played gently, drifting off to the end of the melody. When she was done, her hands lifted from the keys and came to rest on top of mine. Smiling, they interlocked.

  “Did you—”

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I feel unwell. I think I will go back to bed,” Sophia said abruptly, capturing everyone’s attention.

  She was shaking all over, her face clenched tightly as if she were trying to fight back whatever emotion was about to show. Even her hands were in fists.