Chapter 4
"Do you still want to keep searching?" I asked.
Julian's hands were trembling. The servants exchanged uneasy glances, and a few pearls they'd hidden in their sleeves tumbled out, rolling across the floor at their feet.
"Get out," I said, my voice low.
Julian flinched as if I'd struck him. "Charlotte, I—"
"Take your people and get out of my courtyard." I held his gaze. "Now."
The servants looked to Julian. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he turned and walked away.
At the gate, he glanced back. His eyes were a storm of things he couldn't say.
The moment the gate shut behind them, Spring crouched to gather the pearls, tears streaming. "How could they—"
"Pick them up," I said calmly, righting the overturned box. "As long as nothing's missing."
"But your reputation..." She looked up at me, eyes brimming. "After today, who knows what they'll say?"
I touched her shoulder. "Let them talk."
It wouldn't matter soon anyway.
*****
Three days later, the Crown Prince's bride selection began. When the Hawthorne carriage passed my courtyard, it slowed.
The curtain lifted. Isabelle peered out, radiant in crimson silk, rubies at her throat. Beside her, Lilian fussed with her hair.
"Charlotte," Isabelle called softly.
I was sitting on a stone bench in the courtyard, cracking walnuts.
"Aren't you curious?" Isabelle asked gently. "It's the first round today. Every eligible girl in Kingston is going..."
"What's it to me?" I cracked another shell.
Lilian snorted. "Isabelle, why waste your breath? She's always been a pretender. Does she actually think she belongs in the selection?"
Isabelle bit her lip. "Don't say that. Charlotte grew up at Hawthorne Manor. She has grace, presence. If only—"
"If only what?" Lilian cut in. "She can still enter? In her dreams. Now that everyone knows she's not truly one of us, she doesn't even have the right to try."
The carriage slowly rolled away.
Spring stamped her foot. "What are they so proud of? If you went, you'd outshine Isabelle a hundred times over."
I smiled and said nothing.
Qualifications? I had something far better.
That evening, Spring returned from the market, her expression strange. "My lady, something happened."
"Oh?"
"Isabelle didn't pass the first round." Spring lowered her voice. "Word is, she fainted at the palace gates. The royal physician said she's constitutionally weak and unfit for marriage."
My hand paused mid-crack. Weak constitution?
Lilian had spent sixteen years raising her daughter at Hawthorne Manor, coddling her with every luxury, all for this day. She'd never have let Isabelle show up unwell for something so crucial.
"And there's more." Spring leaned closer. "The Crown Prince actually appeared at the selection today. After reviewing the list of noble families, he asked something odd."
"What?"
"Whether Hawthorne Manor had any other daughters of age."
The walnut slipped from my fingers, hitting the stone table. I lifted my head slowly.
Spring's eyes were shining. "My lady! Do you think the Crown Prince was talking about you? Even if you're not on the official list, everyone in Kingston knows Hawthorne Manor raised you for sixteen years—"
"Don't assume." I cut her off, but my heart hammered against my ribs.
Alexander Hampton... What were you planning?
*****
The next day, someone from Hawthorne Manor appeared. It was not Julian. It was Edward.
He stood outside the gate in a pale blue coat, dark circles beneath his eyes as if he hadn't slept.
Spring refused him entry, so he waited from dawn till noon. Finally, I opened the door.
"Charlotte." His voice was raw.
"What do you want, Mr. Hawthorne?"
The title drained the color from his face.
"I-I brought you things." He held out a bundle. "It's getting cold. You must be short of clothes, food—"
"I need nothing."
"Charlotte!" His hand gripped the doorframe, knuckles white. "Please don't shut me out. I know you hate me, but I had no choice.
"Isabelle is my blood. She was lost for years. I had to act."
"So I was the price." I finished his thought.
Edward's breath caught. "No. That's not—" His voice dropped. "I thought you could bear it a while. Once things settled, I'd go to Father and Mother, ask them to bring you back."
"And then what?" I asked. "Pretend to be your sister again? Or something else. A mistress you could never acknowledge?"