Veronica

“Ma’am? Where should we put these?”

One of the maids held up my light green summer dress. I pointed toward the large valise in the corner. “If you would place it over there, that would be fantastic.”

I was supervising the servants as they packed up my belongings. I never did get an answer from Tomas—a sudden crash of thunder had interrupted our conversation, and before I could respond, Lucy was calling for her dad. It was, as my father would have called it, a deus ex machina. An intervention from on high, because I had no idea how to answer his question. I still didn’t.

Do you actually like me?

I had no idea. Did I like him? We’d only spent a few days together, and most of that had consisted of sending longing looks to each other from the opposite side of dining tables and big ballrooms.

I scoffed to myself. Tomas was making me think crazy things. It didn’t matter if I liked him or not. I did like our nighttime activities. I liked our conversations. And I liked what he had to offer. Why wasn’t that enough?

But that’s not everything you like, is it?

A little more reluctantly, I had to admit to myself that I liked how gentle he was with his daughter. How grounded and sweet he was, despite his cruel upbringing. I’d seen my share of troubles, but at least I’d always had my family besides me. My father, who always had time for a kind word and a gentle hug, no matter how busy he was. My mother, who made sure that I always had a bite to eat and scolded me whenever I stayed up too late, poring over the accounts. Tomas didn’t have any of that.

And yet, he’d managed to stay kind, kinder than I had ever been. If I compared the two of us, Tomas was the better human being. He was always gentle; no matter how bad of a mood he was in or how horribly Bennett had treated him that day, he never took it out on anyone else. I, on the other hand, had the horrible tendency of lashing out at anyone nearby when I was stressed. I also held grudges. Very long grudges.

Tomas, conversely, never allowed the unfairness of his situation to dictate how he treated others. A lesser person would have looked down on the other servants because he was related to the king, but Tomas spoke to everyone as if they were his equal, even the scullery maids and the kitchen boys. He also seemed to take pride in his work. Being a valet for your brother must be demeaning, but he attended to every task with the same thorough care, even if it was something as silly as hand-washing the stains from Bennett’s dress shirt. He also respected the work of the other servants. He always complimented the maids for their attention to detail, the butlers on the polishing of the silver. It didn’t seem to matter to him that he was the son of the king.

My family had always lived by the motto that everyone was equal. We were born with nothing, and we would eventually die with nothing, whether we be the children of beggars or kings. But I had very rarely met anyone who shared the same values.

Tomas, it seemed, was one of those few people.

Stop this madness! I shook my head, trying to dislodge all thoughts of the rejected prince from my mind. There was nothing I could do about him now. I had to head back home before the rains washed out the roads for good.

The heavens opened and the first wave of rain hit the second I stepped into my carriage. After my display at dinner the other night, the marchioness had opted to ride back with another merchant. She didn’t want to be seen with my traitorous self—and that suited me just fine.

Although the roads were already turning into a slick mess, my horses were swift, and they made it over the bridge without any trouble. My parents were waiting outside when the carriage rolled over the drive, my father holding an umbrella over the two of them as they waited eagerly for my return.

I ran up and hugged them as hard as I dared. “What are you doing out here?” I scolded as I ushered them back inside. “You’re not as strong as you once were. You’ll catch your deaths out there!”

“We heard from the palace that you were on your way back, and we knew we had to greet you,” Father said. “How was it? Tell us all about your trip!”

I paused in the middle of the foyer, taking in the gorgeous painting that hung above the roaring fireplace. It was a beautiful rendition of a lovely peach orchard, painted in the Impressionist style.

“There’s not that much to tell.” Bitterly, I added, “I wish I could have seen the peaches.”

Mother and Father glanced at each other, then pushed me toward my rooms. “We can chat more over dinner. Why don’t you get cleaned up? You must be exhausted from traveling.”

“It was only two hours away!” I protested, but I let them summon a few maids to help me out of my things. The clothes I’d packed for my trip were all very fine—and massively uncomfortable. Besides, it was nice to wash myself after the bumpy and rather muddy carriage ride. Once I’d gotten changed into a much more comfortable linen shift, I met my parents down in the dining parlor for dinner.

As always, they had cut no corners when it came to food. There were platters upon platters of steaming roast chicken, perfectly cooked steaks, buttery mashed potatoes, fruits of all shapes and sizes, multiple fresh salads, and at least three different types of fish.

“Dig in!” Mother beamed. “Nonnie made you your favorite—dressed herring!”

As the servants scooped out big servings of everything onto our plates, the conversation turned, naturally, to the palace.

“I actually had the chance to see our old land,” I mentioned, scowling a little as I dug into the potatoes. “You wouldn’t believe what they did to it. They cut down all the old peach trees, dug up the land—and all that, just to put in a dirty old dog track!”

Father sighed and put his fork down. “Not this again.”

I slammed my own spoon down. “Yes, again! How could you sit there and be so blasé about our ancestral land being taken from us? The royal family is the entire reason we were forced to become merchants in the first place!”

Mother sighed. “Yes, it’s true that once upon a time we’d hoped to pass down the orchard to you, just like your father’s father passed it down to him and so on and so forth. But that dream ended a long time ago, when King Cyrus used his royal decree to claim the land on which the orchard stood as Prince Bennett’s sixteenth birthday present.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

“Of course we’re not fine with it,” Father said. He was too mild mannered to be annoyed, but he was certainly getting there. “But what are we to do? The peach trees are gone. The land is probably unfit for anything other than dog running now. Even if we were to get it back, there’s nothing left for us in the past. We must look forward to the future.”

I stewed silently over dinner and dessert—a Baked Alaska, prepared by our wonderful, world-class chef—and I didn’t taste a bite of it. My parents might have given up on getting our land back, but they hadn’t seen what it looked like now. Our beautiful orchard, reduced to a patch of dirt, good for nothing more than cruelly racing dogs for sport.

I would get our land back—even if it killed me.

Later that night, after my parents were fast asleep, a servant came knocking on my door with a message.

“What is it, Oswald?” I whispered. “It’s quite late for a message.”

He bowed. “My apologies, miss. I normally wouldn’t wake you, but you have a visitor. From the castle.” He looked at me meaningfully.

“The castle?” I frowned. I could only think of one person from the castle who might have cause to visit…but why now? Why so soon?

Maybe he had reconsidered my offer?

I dismissed Oswald, pulled on a robe, and ran down the stairs so fast I nearly tripped and smacked my head against the banister.

Waiting at the door was none other than Tomas. He looked gorgeous in the moonlight, his dark hair and blue eyes glimmering like stars in the night sky.

“Tomas!” I said, just a tad breathless from my midnight sprint. “What are you doing here?”

He bowed, ever the gentlemen. “I apologize for the lateness of the hour. This was the only time I was able to get away from my valet duties.”

“Don’t worry, I was up. My trip to the castle has left a mountain of work for me to do at home. But forget about that—what can I do for you?”

“I believe we were rather rudely interrupted the other day. I believe you were waiting for an answer to a particular proposal, were you not?”