Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
She looked at Parsworth, who stepped forward again. “Miss Wyntor is with her Ersovian history and etiquette tutors, going over the garden party protocol.”
My mother nodded proudly once again. “Exactly as she should. You are worrying far too much. She is taking this seriously, and that is precisely what we need.”
I hung my head, tapping my fingers on the table and trying to breathe, but the words kept repeating through my mind. Exactly what we need. But who was we? It was the crown, the monarchy. It was not me and, more importantly, not Odette. Had she seen all the articles? Was that why she was very quickly leaning toward obsessing? I had seen it happen over and over again with other families, not royal, but noble. Whoever married in forced themselves into a mold, bending, changing, almost void of any thoughts of their own—all they knew and did was protocol.
I did not want Odette to be like that.
I did not know that Odette.
That was not the woman I fell for.
But at the same time, I feared that the attacks would never stop if she did not conform. I did not know what to do.
“Mother, please excuse me,” I said, rising, and the butler came behind me to move my chair.
“Gale,” she called, and I paused, looking back to her. “Please do not distract her.”
“Of course.” I nodded, stepping out the room, and there Iskandar stood waiting, as well as Balduin, who only stood at chest height to Iskandar.
“Adelaar.” They both bowed, and when I nodded, Balduin handed me another black file.
“It is again about the farmers of Zotteven and Youglin,” he started to explain as we went up the west staircase. However, I paused midway, looking out the window at a blur of dark-headed brown curls. Sure enough, there was Odette, walking in the garden slowly, I guess gracefully, with some thin, old woman beside her, nodding her head and motioning dramatically with her hands.
“Adelaar?”
“Yes?” I asked as I still watched whatever it was they were doing.
“The farmers?” Balduin spoke up.
I frowned, forcing myself to look away. “What? Is this about the chickens again?”
“They are doing the votes today.”
Which meant I had to watch. I sighed. That was going to be my day. If only I could grab her hand and run away. For just an hour, at the very least.
My time with Lady de Marissonne, going through every—and I mean every—step of the garden party was cut short, as instructed by the queen. And just hearing that made my heart sink. I was supposed to have a break for lunch. I’d hoped I could spend it with Gale as I did not see him for breakfast. But it was just a dream. We could not talk much at breakfast or dinner. We ate lunch at different times since he was always out and about. I at least hoped to see him as I walked through the halls.
“Do you know where Gale—I mean Prince Galahad is?” I truly felt I had not seen his face in ages.
“The Adelaar has gone to Trinity Row to hear the special topic vote,” Wolfgang said like I understood that.
I did not want to, but I had to ask. “Trinity Row?”
“That is the street on which Parliament, the Prime Minister’s House, and the Supreme Court are all on,” he explained, pausing in the hallway to show me a digital map of the very long street of white Neoclassical buildings. “As you can see, they lead here, to the palace. Once or twice a month, the Adelaar goes to hear Supreme Court disputes or privately listens out of view of Parliament.”
“Right, I remember that.” My history tutor had mentioned it, I think.
I was basically in school all over again, and my head was already on fire. I just wanted to lie down. Talk to Gale, see him. I never thought I would miss just sitting around and talking like we did in Seattle as much as I did now.
“Do you know when he is going to be back?” I asked.
“I do not, but I can send a message to his secretary to find out.”
“No, I will just wait. That’s fine.”
He nodded and proceeded to show me back to my room. I wanted to make him talk about something, anything other than protocol or what I was failing to do, but I found myself unable to speak when I saw a maid or butler walk by. I felt like if I asked or said anything, someone would overhear it, and it would start a whole new set of rumors.
“We are here,” Wolfgang said as we stopped right in front of the door where a single butler—no, footman stood, waiting.
The footman opened the door, and Wolfgang stepped from beside me to behind as I was announced. “Miss Wyntor is here, ma’am.”