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Well, at least my mom would say we were alike in more ways than cheekbones now.
“Oh, these evil little whores,” I whispered under my breath as I watched my poor baby girl try to swim through these shark-infested waters.
“Careful! Someone will hear you,” Charles hushed me.
“They have only been married a day, and these heifers are trying to throw themselves at him. See why I hate when people bring up shame? No one else seems to have it. They do not take Odette seriously.”
“You don’t even understand the language; how do you understand what they are trying to do or what they are saying?” he pressed back.
I rolled my eyes. “Charles, privileged women looking down on other women is a universal language. It doesn’t matter if we are in America, Ersovia, or Japan.”
It’s on their faces, in their body language; everything about them speaks louder and with more honestly than what they say.
“Do not make a scene. I beg of you.”
“I am not making one, now am I?”
Though it wasn’t because I didn’t want to, especially about that ugly, snake-faced woman they called Sabina. The moment she walked up to my daughter, I wanted to grab my shoe and throw it at her head, knocking out whatever fantasies she was having.
The damn opportunist. But I could not fight this battle for Odette. That was why I hated being in this damn country. I couldn’t do anything here but watch from a distance as everyone tried to cut into my daughter. And that went against everything I knew and believed in.
“It is exhausting being on my best behavior,” I muttered.
“You only have to keep it up for another day. I know it’s hard, but you can do it.” He chuckled.
I glanced over at him, glaring. But I let it go as soon as I saw an old, wrinkled-faced, white woman dressed in dark purple, with pearls around her neck and all the lace in the land, coming up to me, holding a cane. She was Gale’s grandmother.
“You are the mother,” she said in English.
“I am, and we have met, Your Grace.” I curtsied to her. Not because I wanted to, but so she wouldn’t have another strike against my daughter in her book.
“Very good on you for knowing your manners,” she said coldly with her head held high before she glanced over to Mr. Greensboro. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to allow us to speak?”
Charles looked at me with an eyebrow raised, and I nodded for him to go. He nodded and walked away from us.
“Lover of yours?” she questioned me.
“He’s far too smart for that,” I answered.
She chuckled. “When in history has intelligence been of use to a man when it came to a woman?”
“I doubt you came to find out about my personal life, ma’am,” I said, unbothered. “There is no need for small talk or for you to hold back. Why are we speaking?”
“The queen’s sister.”
“Half-sister.” A very annoying half.
“What is she to do with this half-sister?” she asked and stood beside me, looking out into the crowd. “As you can see, she is already on a battlefield, the likes of which she’s never experienced before. She cannot be drawn to battle on your side of the family. The family of the queen is meant to be ghosts. Rarely heard from, nearly forgotten about altogether.”
“That makes sense,” I said.
“Of course, it does. I said it. I do not need you to compliment my words. We need the half-sister to be silent. And the queen seems unable to do it.”
“So naturally, you think I can.”
“I am hoping you will be helpful at least, which is why I am speaking to you. In the past, there have been ways we have handled those who run their mouths too much.”
I looked at her because something told me her idea might be worse for Augusta. But this was not her battle.
