Chapter 4
As soon as we arrived in the capital, I found myself under house arrest.
Edward used the excuse that a "merchant's daughter lacked refinement" and needed to "learn the ropes" of court etiquette and promptly tossed me into a secluded wing of his place in the palace.
To ensure he'd send me packing as soon as possible, I kicked my antics into high gear. I smacked my lips while eating, waddled around like a duck, dressed myself in clashing layers of garish reds and greens, and even dropped hints that I suffered from body odor.
But I was wrong. Instead of kicking me out, the look in his eyes grew increasingly predatory.
*****
One stormy night, Edward summoned me to his study.
With my heart in my throat, I donned my hideous red-and-green gown and hung a string of gaudy gold bells from my waist. I jingled and jangled my way into the room.
In the study, Edward sat behind his desk, idly fingering a box of Imperial Pearls. Seeing me enter, he pushed the box forward.
"Ms. Beatrice, since you're from a merchant family, you must have a keen eye for value," he said leisurely. "These pearls are yours, provided you scrub every inch of this floor tonight."
My eyes lit up—the perfect performance of greed.
"Truly?" I gasped, lunging forward to clutch the box. "Thank you, Your Highness. I'll have it sparkling in no time. I'd lick it clean for a prize like this."
Edward watched me and smirked mockingly, though his eyes remained stone cold. "Get to work, then."
I clutched the box and just as I was about to kneel down and start scrubbing, the gold bells at my waist caught on a sharp corner of the desk.
With a rip, the silk cord snapped. Gold bells scattered across the floor with a chaotic clatter. And then, a worn, tattered linen pouch tumbled out with them.
The drawstring wasn't tight. As it hit the floor, its contents rolled out into the light. It wasn't gold, nor was it a precious gem.
It was a crude, slightly crooked hairpin carved from wood. On the head of the pin was a "flower" that barely resembled one, and the wood hadn't even been sanded smooth. At the very end, the name "Bea" was carved in shaky, amateur strokes.
It was the token of affection from Edward, who had spent three sleepless nights carving it for me back when he was pretending to be a penniless scholar.
Even after I'd made a run for it, and despite how much I'd mocked its ugliness, I'd never had the heart to throw it away. I had kept it close to me every single day.
A deathly silence filled the room.
The cheap wooden pin lay quietly on the polished marble floor, right next to the box of priceless Imperial Pearls. It looked pathetic, yet it stood out like a sore thumb.
A sudden crack of thunder exploded outside the window with a boom.
Edward's mocking expression froze instantly, his gaze fixed on the hairpin. He recognized every single nick and scratch on that wood.
He rose slowly, walked over to the hairpin, and bent down to retrieve it. His thumb brushed over the carved name "Bea."
A low, dry chuckle escaped his lips, sending a shiver down my spine.
He turned and advanced toward me as I sat paralyzed on the floor. He held the cheap wooden pin right next to the priceless Imperial Pearls. His gaze was frantic, dangerous, and unhinged.
"Ms. Beatrice," he said, his voice husky with a rage that had reached its boiling point, seasoned with a hint of dark, twisted excitement. "Since you are so obsessed with gold, why on earth have you been hiding this worthless piece of timber against your heart?"
He knelt, his long fingers gripping my chin, forcing me to meet his bloodshot eyes. "Are we still playing charades, my... dear fiancée?"