Chapter 37

Aweek later, a messenger arrived from the castle. The poor man had to knock multiple times before we heard him above the screeching voices of the music students, all rasping a song about a nightingale. Mother and Comfort were teaching and couldn’t answer the door, and I was upstairs, trying to transcribe a lengthy speech that had been given and needed to be converted into Islandrian. I could see the crest of the royal family on the door of the carriage, and looked straight down out of my window to see who was standing on our doorstep. By craning my neck, I saw Cynthia open the door, cloth tied around her hair and broom in hand, to accept a thick envelope from the messenger.

The messenger sprang back to his carriage as the footman cracker his whip and the horses trotted off. Before the carriage was even out of sight, I heard a hush fall upon the girls downstairs, followed soon after by the loudest shrieks and squeals that had ever been uttered in this house, even louder than the incident in which two mice appeared and darted through all of the swishing skirts.

What on earth?

I scrambled downstairs, hastily pulling my hair out of the knot on top of my head and letting it tumble down to cover my face. Ever since Comfort had announced our financial woes, I had stopped ordering cosmetics. Our family couldn’t afford the expense, so I had reverted to my earlier methods of using my fan or my hair to cover my burns.

The cacophony from the first level was overwhelming. All the girls enrolled in the finishing school leapt up and down, clutching each other and screaming their heads off.

“Girls, girls, settle down,” Mother repeated herself several times before anyone obeyed. She held the heavy, opened envelope in one hand, a piece of parchment in her other. Now she fixed all of her pupils with a firm stare.

“A well-bred lady does not whoop and cheer,” she chastised, “but waits for the other person to finish speaking before making herself heard.”

A few of the girls hung their heads at the reprimand, but most looked too excited to care. Comfort shushed girls, and I barely noticed Cynthia standing inconspicuously in a corner, still clutching her broom. I was halfway down the stairs but had paused, not wanting to miss a word that Mother said. Whatever message that envelope held must be important.

Once the room was silent, Mother shook open the short letter and began to read.

By Royal Proclamation:

In honor of His Majesty, Crown Prince Hubert of Islandria, heir to the throne, all eligible young maidens are invited to attend a royal ball, held at the castle on the first day of the eighth month at sunset.

Signed,

King Edmont

There was an explosion of noise.Girls squealed in delight and were dashing about, eagerly asking each other what the letter meant, who counted as eligible, which day was the first of the eighth month, would the prince want to see her curtsy, and a hundred other things. Mother and Comfort continued to try and shush the girls but without any success. I returned to my work. The first day of the eighth month? That was only a few weeks away.

My heart thumped loudly. A ball that commoners were invited to? In honor of Hubert only. Did that mean the rumors were true? Was Aria engaged to Curtis? Did that mean Hubert was looking for a bride among his subjects?

That evening at supper, the entire conversation revolved around the upcoming ball. Mother and Comfort were anticipating the ball as eagerly as any of their students. Mother and Comfort were both thrilled to have an opportunity to become reacquainted with some of their old friends. They talked animatedly about which gown they would wear, which friends they thought would still be at the castle, which girls from their classes would be likely to attend, and a number of other similar topics.

“Truly, what about you?” Comfort inquired. “Aren’t you excited?”

I shook my head. I had known that Mother and Comfort would want to attend the ball. I assumed Cynthia would as well, but I just couldn’t bring myself to face Curtis again, especially now that he was engaged to a beautiful princess who could offer him much more than I could. It would be too painful to re-visit those feelings. No, it was better for me to stay away. I had already written that accursed letter telling him to forget about me and move on. Now he had. No need to impose my presence where it wasn’t wanted.

Cynthia left the table and started on the dishes. As I recalled how eager she had been to meet Prince Hubert, I made a mental note to ask her about her plans for the ball next time we talked.. She had been so excited at the prospect of being introduced to a prince, and now she had the chance.