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Chapter 36
Two Years Ago
“One? Or two?” I called through the kitchen to the living room.
“One is fine, thank you,” my mother responded.
“I’ll have two, darling,” Castemont answered.
I took a deep breath, ignoring the nicety and subsequent chatter drifting in from where they sat in the living room. I poured three small dollops of batter across the sizzling pan, the smell immediately filling the cottage.
For two years, I missed Solise, and for two years, Solise’s words swirled through my mind.Something is off.But what? She’d been wrong about Calomyr and there really was no reason for me to hate Castemont. He’d been nothing but kind to us, providing us with a life we could live rather than survive, just like Solise had wanted. He appeared to love my mother fiercely, irrevocably.
The biggest issue I had waswhy. Why the hellwould a man — and not just a man, but a Lord of Eserene, a Low Royal — personally fund the lives of two strangers? The Benevolent Saints told him to. That’s what he’d told me. Butwhystick around a weepy, mopey widow until she was no longer weepy and mopey? Why insist on taking in her child — her defiant, unagreeable,adultchild — as his own? He was handsome, he was excessively wealthy, and he wasroyal. He could have had his pick of eligible women. Women who were raised for the position, knew the role they were expected to play. Women who were younger and richer and more beautiful than my mother.
Maybe love was all it was. Simple as that.Without reason, without sense, without logic.
I took a deep breath, knowing that Castemont would ask me soon enough–
“Have you given any more thought to my proposal, Petra?” There it was. I was grateful to be facing away from them, because my face contorted into a puckered mix of annoyance and anger at the sound of his voice. He brought it up at least once a day.
“I do not wish to live in the castle.” My answer was the same as it always was, my tone even, flat. Unemotional. They may be without their mental faculties, but I didn’t have to be.
“Think of the opportunities that await, Petra!” my mother chimed.
“Like what, marriage?” I shot back. “To some snotty-ass nobleman’s son? I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. No, thank you.”
“If you agree, you still have a year to prepare,” Castemont added. It would take at least that long to make preparations for the wedding, to get approval from the court for the marriage. Apparently royals couldn’t just marry whomever they pleased.
My mother had come acrosssomesense and had agreed not to move into the castle, not to follow through with the wedding until I gave my full approval. Castemont understood without question, willing to play the game I laid in front of him.
And shit, if he didn’t play it well. His wealth seemed to know no bounds, and neither did his motivation to win me over, even after two years of my constant rejection. He showered me with gifts and compliments, tried to help with housework and hired a maid when I refused his help, invited us to fancy dinners, ceremonies, and events, all of which I declined.
I was not a nobleman’s daughter, and I had no desire to pretend I was.
Castemont got to know the neighbors, offered them help with patching roofs and sealing gaps. He and my mother would stroll through the streets, Castemont offering smiles to the poor and the wretched. Though he never gave up his courtly appearance, he had thoroughly embraced life in Inkwell. He’d told me over and over that he wouldn’t stop until I knew his intentions were pure.
“Breakfast is ready,” I called, placing the plates on the small table in the breakfast nook.
“Thank you, darling, so very much.” His tone was sincere as he and my mother approached the table. I had come a long way and had only recently begun to offer him food when I cooked. It had felt too intimate, too real before. I gave a tight lipped smile as the three of us sat around the table. “Your birthday is fast approaching,” he said.
“Twenty-three,” my mother answered with a smile, placing a small forkful of pancake in her mouth.
I nodded. “Twenty-three.”
“What would you like for your birthday?”
I chewed hard, knowing that this was going to turn into another attempt to buy my approval. “I have everything I need.”
“But what is something youwant?”he pushed.
For you to leave. For you to stop smothering me. For you to go back to your castle without us.“I don’t want anything.”
He looked down at his plate a bit awkwardly, a pang of hurt on his face. I fought back guilt at the fact that this man was doing everything he could to help us and I was all but spitting in his face.
But my brain kept circling back to the same question.Why?
???
