I allowed until noon for Anna to reappear. That was exactly one hour after I came back home and just enough time for me to unload all of the fabric I had purchased.
Sometimes when Anna was in a particularly bad mood, she’d go to the next town over to fawn over the expensive wears and tea sets, but she always knew to be back at noon when stepmother served tea. The daily gossip and games pamphlets were brought over by one of her friends, something my sisters and their friends all chipped in to afford the subscription to.
But noon came and it went, and it was then that my stepmother began to fret.
When she cried and began to panic, Celia – known to overreact to most things – stayed eerily quiet at the tea table, focusing on her needlework.
She looked troubled.
“Celia,” I said sternly, my stepmother stilling where she had thrown herself onto the couch to sob. My sister nervously looked to me, lifting her thumb to nibble on her nail. “Do you know where Anna has gone?”
Celia looked conflicted at that, but when her mother sharply told her to speak, she tensed. “Well, she didn’t say a thing to me, but-” she sucked in a big breath, holding her hands in her lap. “But I smelt your mama’s perfume, the expensive one, when I woke this morning.” she said as she exhaled, then a sharp inhale. “And Anna wouldn’t have wasted any of that. She’d use it when she went somewhere real important.”
I stared at her and exchanged a confused look with my stepmother before she suddenly stood, lifting her skirt off the floor with one hand and grabbing my sister by her wrist with the other. I followed her as she dragged Celia back to the girls shared room, marching her over to where the large truck was in the corner. She released my sister and got down on her knees to turn the numbers on the lock until they were the right code.
The girls knew the code, but they also knew there would be hell to pay if they ever took anything out of it without getting either her or my approval.
She suddenly pushed up the lid to reveal the contents.
Nothing.
My mother’s wedding dress and slippers were gone.
Even the veil was gone.
I tensed as my stepmother’s jaw dropped, looking to me with a horrified look. “Elliot!” She screamed in panic, scrambling to her feet so fast half her hair fell out of the bun atop her head, “She went to the prince!”
My nose wrinkled and I looked to Celia, who nervously wrung her hands by her bed. I stared at her, frowning. “Celia – you will not lie to me in our home, or so help me, you will get a spanking.” I growled, her lips tightened as my stepmother came over to grab my long, loose sleeve with an anxious look, her eyes watering. I kept my gaze locked on Celia all the while. The girls hadn’t been spanked in years – not since they stole some of their mother’s savings to go buy news dresses after they were explicitly told no, but Celia know if I threatened to do something, I’d follow through. “You knew hours ago that she took the gown, didn’t you?”
Celia looked to her mother, but my stepmother angrily snapped at her to answer me. Celia looked back to me then, chewing on her bottom lip and looking conflicted.
I lifted my chin, forcing myself to stay calm. I had a very quick temper, but I had learned to control it fast when I got a little sister, then two, who were very emotional and reactive. “I know she didn’t take the veil. Veils are no longer in style for casual wear, and so she wouldn’t want to wear it around the prince.” I said sternly, Marge letting out a choked sob, “And seeing as it’s gone that means you have it – you went to check and see if the gown was gone, and when you saw it was indeed missing, you took the veil. Anna would have no need for it. You thought it was fair you at least got that. The point here is you knew already that she had gone to see the prince, and you didn’t tell us.”
Celia’s eyes watered and she burst into tears.
My stepmother predictably burst into angry tears.
Anna, though a brat, was the only one of the three that rarely cried. The only time I had ever seen her cry was when father died and we had to sell her pony. She cried for days after that and I had seriously been worried that she would hurt herself, she was so distraught. That was when I gifted her and Celia my mother’s things, which at least helped bring her down enough to be more open to sense.
My stepmother angrily yelled at Celia, demanding to know why she didn’t tell us earlier when we asked if she knew where her sister was.
“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE POOR ANYMORE!!” Celia sobbed, falling dramatically to the ground to lay there on her skirt, crying hysterically.
“CELIA!” Stepmother screeched as I ran a hand down my face, trying to gather my composure. “YOUR BROTHER AND I WORK OURSELVES TO THE BONE FOR YOU! AND YOU LIE TO US?!”
“I know you two work very hard, I know you do! But if Anna marries the prince, neither of you will have to work anymore!” Celia sobbed loudly into her skirts.
I shook my head and took my stepmother by her shoulders to turn her so she faced me, both her hands on her cheeks as she sobbed. “Fetch me enough money to rent a horse – I will go collect Anna, hopefully before she makes a total fool of herself.”
“Anna is a LADY!” Celia screamed then, “She won’t make a fool out of anyone so STOP SAYING THAT!”
“CELIA!” Stepmother screamed back, but before she could continue, I pulled her out of the room.
“Please – make haste!” I snapped, stepmother looking over her shoulders at me as she cried, holding the bottom of her apron to her face. “Time is of the essence, woman!”
She let out a pathetic noise but hurried to her room. When she returned, she gave me what I knew was enough to rent a horse, and with that, I quickly left to do just that.
I rented a different one that the older stead that pulled my cart from the port. This time I got one that raced, quickly helping the stable master getting her dressed before I climbed on and raced out of town as quickly as the young mare would go.
I was very familiar with the towns and villages around our own, having memorized them as a boy since they all paid taxes to my father at one point, back when it was expected that I would one day do the same as him.
My sisters, however, only knew the ones that were frequented by the rich and fabulous.
The prince in particular visited a town called Pinedale, where the prince was known to occasionally visit, as it made a unique beer that all knew he favored.
Pinedale was not terribly far, but it was nighttime when I arrived, what must have been almost a full twenty two hours after my sister might have arrived, my nerves raw.
When I reached the fork in the main road, I scowled.
Right or left, I wasn’t sure, so I chose right, first, thundering down it on my horse as I frantically looked around. When I found myself lost, I pulled on the reigns, slowing him as the breeze tossled my sweat soaked hair.
“-twenty years out of fashion. Ratty hair and actual slippers that resemble the ones my grandmother wears – how dare you present yourself to me as a suitable bride!”
I whipped my head around at the sound of laughter, staring at where a trio of well dressed men were coming down the path, looking drunk.
“Did he really say that to her?!” The second man laughed as he tried to keep pace with the other two taller men.
“Aye – the little peasant girl just crumbled, haha! What a pitiful little creature! Went skittering off in tears while the prince laughed!” He howled with his own laughter, the other two joining in as one stumbled.
I directed my horse to then, my body going cold as I forced myself to stay calm. They gave me various looks is distaste as I approached, one laughing a little. “Where did this happen?” I demanded.
“Another peasant?” The one that had been telling the story sneered. “This village is just dripping with them.”
I silently dismounted my horse, going around it while the others went ‘ooooh’ and ‘now you done it!’
I did not think they expected me to suddenly grab the man by his testicles and squeeze. He squawked and slowly got down on his knee while I kept him in a hold, squatting down myself so I could stare at him, furious and ready to tear his testicles off completely.
It was hard to tell when I was blinded by rage and when I was numbing myself so I didn’t get to angry.
I supposed that I wasn’t as numb as I had hoped.
“Where did this happen?” I asked coolly, quietly, staring at him as he weakly tried to push me off. “Where?” I hissed.
He told me the name of the pub after a short struggle, and as soon as I released him, I used the same hand to punch him right in his nose. The other two came out me, but in their drunkenness, they were sloppy and easy to put out as well.
I doubted they’d even remember this once they woke up.
But if the man had lied, then I would come back for him, and he would surely remember my wrath.
When I arrived at the pub, I spoke the with keeper, who retold the tale that was quite close to what the drunken noble had been telling to his friends.
The prince had come by to celebrate another bridge of his own design built, bringing with him a handful of nobles, including several quite beautiful duchesses.
My sister had come and waxed poetry to him, and the prince, one of few sober in the entire party, tore her to shred. He compared her to the women he brought with him, her lowly status, how unworthy she was of his attention, let alone his touch.
She tried to tell him about her superior character but he said that if she was stupid enough to approach him in such poorly fashion, he was far to stupid for him to even humor and had her dragged out.
My sister went east, and so did I.
It was raining when I found her sitting under a tree in the woods.
I silently came up on her with my horse and she briefly met my gaze with her own.
She looked broken.
Defeated.
So much worse than when her pony was sold.
I would not kick her when she was down. She had absorbed every one of the prince’s vile, brutal words, I was sure, and she was drowning in them. She had been punished more than enough for her silly behavior, and so it was the time to comfort her.
Wordlessly she took my hand and sat in front of me as we rode back home.
She told me that she thought the prince was right in what he said, save for one thing.
Her dress and slippers would never be out of style.
I agreed, and said she was worthy of wearing both.
She sobbed then, and when we came home, she retired to bed.
And in bed she stayed.
For days.
For weeks.
She hardly slept. She would not eat.
Celia and my stepmother tried to nurse her back to health, but nothing seemed to work, and with each passing day I grew more enraged at the display of cruelty the prince had demonstrated with my sister.
There was no need for it.
A simple ‘no thank you’ would have sufficed, and a man of his station – the heir to our kingdom, the man that would one day be in charge of the security of a country and wield the might of it’s military-
If he didn’t have the class to exercise good manner and kindness, then we were well and truly in for dark times.
The only thing that kept me from going to the castle and demonstrating with my fist exactly how little I thought of his behavior was the thought that I would leave my family without a main provider, and so I stayed home.
I stayed home and worked, stewing on my anger.
I would not soon forget what he had done to Anna.
And I would not soon forgive either.
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