Megan was waiting for me when I
slipped in through the window of my room.
Her mouth tightened when she saw the state of my dress, but she said
nothing.
Thankfully, breakfast would not be as
formal as dinner. I washed my face and
hands quickly while Megan untied my dress.
Slipping out of one dress and into another made me yawn. I certainly hoped the rest of the Gala would
not pass in this manner!
“It is
enough,” I told
Megan, taking the new set of shoes from her.
“Go along.”
I was grateful when she obeyed, leaving me to wait alone for Edward’s knock.
I reviewed last night’s all-night (redundant) briefing
as I slowly laced my shoes. We had a few
numbers and a lot of guesses as to how they should be interpreted. Edward, who had a lifetime of analysis
growing up in his father’s house,
thought there was a real enough threat to warrant continued monitoring. We had all agreed that the best information
would come directly from a pirate; and that meant capturing some. I did not object to the idea of capturing
pirates, (perhaps make this two sentences for
emphasis.) it was the thought
of risking lives that bothered me.
Loosing my hair from last night’s ribbons, I reached for my
brush. I wore gold and silver today, in
celebration of the silver winter changing to a glorious, golden spring. I had reached a decision before I finished
braiding my hair. I was almost done
tying it up with fresh ribbons when there was a knock at the outer door.
Closing the door to my dressing rooms
behind me, I called, “Enter.”
As I had expected, Edward fluttered in.
“Your
Highness,” he
greeted, bowing low. “You do look well rested.”
The doors closed behind him, and he flew to me, deftly taking over the
ribboning. “It seems not more than a few minutes
since I bid you a good night, and already the sun has risen high into the
sky. I fear it shall seem like no time
at all until I must surrender your company,” he dropped
my finished braid and took my near hand in his, “to my
estimable opponent, Prince Hugh.” He kissed my hand gallantly, but I did not
laugh.
“No, Edward,” I said simply.
He scanned my face briefly before
asking, “Why not?”
“Your
expertise is in analysis and strategy.
Frankly,” I withdrew
my hand from his, “I doubt
Admiral Bernard would let you do more than observe the capture, anyway. When we are informed that they have a
prisoner to interrogate, you may go with our blessing.”
He turned to face the window, hands
clasped behind his back. His left wing
drooped slightly, a sure sign that he was out of sorts.
I sat down. I could not waste such an opportunity.
“Tell me,” I prompted.
“Tell you?”
He responded without turning. “Tell you what you are too blind to
see?”
I blinked, stung by the acid in his
tone. “Someone
should,” I
retorted, keeping my tone as level as I could.
He turned then, eyes narrowing as he
inspected me for any hint of duplicity.
“It is a
sham,” he said at last. “An
unpopular prince; the hero of Bullierd’s
Rebellion; and me, the son of a disgraced noble?” He shook his head. His tone was flat as he went on, “Why do you think I kissed you? Because,” he went on
quickly, “I knew I
would never have another chance.”
Stunned, I stared at him. Before I could form an appropriate answer,
though,("though" is unnecessary here; it's
implied in the rest of the sentence) there came an impatient knock.
“Rebecca,” called Jeffrey, “are you sleeping?”
Edward might a slight gesture of
impatience, then flew forward and opened the doors.
“Oh,” said Jeffrey, stepping back, “excellent! Come on, the two of you, before the boys
start trying to eat the fresh flowers.”
Edward gave a mock salute. “Reporting
as ordered, sir!”
The others laughed, remembering how
we all used to play soldiers when Jeffrey was courting Arabella. I did not laugh, but somehow managed not to
frown.
“Your
Highness,” Edward
swept a bow in my general direction, and offered his arm.
Jeffrey expressed faint concern as I
approached. “Are you alright, Rebecca? You look so,” here he
paused and shrugged, “not
yourself.”
I mustered a smile as I placed my
hand lightly on Edward’s
wrist. “I am tired,” I answered, unwilling to have them
think Edward was behind my gloominess. “And hungry!”
This last brought appreciative growls from the boys, all of whom were in
a perpetual state of starvation.
“Together,
lads! We shall advance on the breakfast
table and not desist until we have liberated every last biscuit!”
(lower-case a on “announced”)Announced
Edward, leading me forward.
I was not in the mood for such
animated conversation and energetic companionship. Nevertheless, I laughed with the others as he
rattled on about nothing in particular.
My mind was elsewhere. My heart
was feeling sick. My head ached. I saw the obvious, that Edward had agreed to
a charade, believing he was there just for decoration. If he truly loved me, and I did not doubt his
kiss, it was far more difficult for him to be in the same room with me than it
had been for him to resist the berry pie in the story he was sharing with the
boys.
But, is he
right? (lower-case a on “asked”)
Asked
my imp. I would not have believed it of the Council… Granted, they could
not offer the crown to Hugh without offending Prince Alfred, unless they both
agreed to some sort of arrangement.
I went through breakfast in a mental
fog. It was to the point that Edward had
to palm the salt shaker (saltshaker) to prevent me from salting my fruit
bowl. He made a joke of it, asking
Jennifer, who sat opposite him, to guess which of his hands held the
shaker.
Alfred was (“sat”
–
Word doesn’t
like the sentence structure, and “sat” instead of “was” fixes that) two tables away, conversing quietly
with a woman-fairy that I only vaguely recognized from past galas. A perpetual guest of the Duchess’, I believed. Hugh was only one table away, and paying more
attention to his food than diplomacy.
When he spotted me watching him, I blushed. Still, ("Still" might
not be the best word here) having caught his attention, I nodded in the direction of
the elderly woman-fairy at his left.
Lady Charlotte had been my mother’s
governess, and was sweet as a sun-ripened grape. I knew without having to be told that she was
measuring Hugh against her memories of my father at that age. In fact, I would not be surprised if I found
that the Council valued her estimation of my suitors. I was pleased to see Hugh chew his last bite
carefully, then turn and speak pleasantly to her.
By the end of breakfast, I was
beginning to doubt my decision to keep Edward at the gala. He was cheerful enough, but I began to see
that he considered himself a sort of jester or decoration. I almost could not bear to listen as he
rattled on, from one joke to the next, until our table roared with laughter.
Suddenly, I stood.
“Pray excuse
us,” I apologized for us both, and Edward
obediently joined me. It took a great
deal of self-control to keep from flying out the window, towing him by the
arm. Once out in the corridor, I paused
only briefly before setting a course for the same council chamber we had used
the night before. Father and Councilor
Balrek had both missed breakfast, and I was sure that was where they were.
The servants had to fling the doors
open to prevent me from flying into them headfirst. I was glad when they closed them just as
hastily, for what I had to say was not for other ears. So, (no comma here) there we
were. Father and Councilor Balrek, (replace
the comma with were) seated across the table from us, (replace
the comma with and) both wore startled expressions. Edward, (comprehended, no comma)
comprehending
what I was about to do, (and, no comma) tried to
pull away, but I held him fast.
“Rebecca,” greeted Father, setting down aside the paper
he had been reading and glancing from Edward’s red face
to my white one, “you have
decided?”
“Not quite,” I answered, silencing Edward with a
glare. “First I
must know this – is Edward
truly in line for the throne? Or is he
merely a token suitor, thrown in for good measure?”
Councilor Balrek gaped at me, looking
for all the world like a hungry baby bird.
As he collected his thoughts, I studied him carefully. To my relief, he looked confused, not guilty.
Father kept his thoughts closer, and
was watching Edward, not me.
“Which of
you,” he asked gently, “accuses us of this cruel deceit?
I cannot speak for Edward, but I felt
about sixty again. Dropping my gaze, I
asked myself whose brilliant idea this had been.
“Forgive me,
sir,” Edward responded, his face now as
white as mine. “I did not mean…”
“No, of
course not,”
interrupted Father, his tone still gentle.
“Your lack
of confidence is perhaps your greatest weakness, my boy. But certainly it could be understood if you
do not easily trust.”
Indeed, agreed my
imp, springing to Edward’s
defense. Did his father ever have a kind word for him, let alone an honest one?
My hand moved from gripping Edward’s forearm to (“being
tucked”
for consistency in verb tenses) tucked inside his hand.
“Then,” I said slowly, “it is unanimous. Edward will remain here until such time as
there is a successful capture.”
Father and Councilor Balrek both
nodded approval. Father in particular
looked relieved. Councilor Balrek’s expression was interesting, as it
lay somewhere between relief and shrewd contemplation.
“Forgive us
for disturbing you, sirs,” Edward
bowed from the waist, the action forcing some blood back into his face. “With your
permission,” he turned
to me, squeezing my hand, “I shall
inform the Senior.” At my nod, he flew out the window.
I wanted to speak, to say something
that would convince Councilor Balrek that Edward should not be dismissed
lightly. but I held my peace, no
though: this thought follows the previous sentence
though. Since childhood, Edward had
always inspected every compliment for a hidden insult, every good deed for an
ulterior motive, and every apple bit for garlic. (Good use of commas:
great list) Not that one could
blame him for the apple bit, especially when Alfred was visiting. As for the
rest, I decided to let the Councilors do their job. I had never held any real power before this,
but they had, and that/and so were (no comma) which made
them far more suited to the task.
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