Chapter 2
I thought that was the end of it. After all, Prince Edward was way too busy wasting his days to remember some widow who chopped firewood.
But I was wrong.
Three days later, a sedan chair stopped outside my house.
Not Prince Edward's. The queen's.
"Lady Sinclair," the matron sent to deliver the message said with a warm smile, though the sharpness in her eyes made my back go cold, "Her Majesty invites you to the palace for a talk."
I looked at my dye-stained hands, then at the sedan chair embroidered with phoenixes.
At that moment, only one thought crossed my mind. Oh no. Did Prince Edward go back and complain that I scared his horse with an axe?
That was the kind of crime people lost their heads over.
Then again, if I was going to lose my head, so be it. Life wasn't giving me much to look forward to anyway.
I took a deep breath, changed into the only outfit I owned without patches, left Ben with Mrs. Warren next door, and got into the sedan chair.
The chair swayed its way into the palace, then wound through turn after turn until it stopped at a hall I'd never seen before.
The matron led me inside. I kept my head down and knelt to bow, my heart pounding even harder than when I chopped firewood.
"Raise your head and let me look at you." The queen said.
I lifted my head and met a pair of gentle but piercing eyes.
The queen looked younger than I'd expected, beautifully maintained. There was a strong resemblance between her and Edward, though her features carried far more authority.
She studied me for a long time, then suddenly let out a sigh.
"So you really are Professor Sinclair's daughter. Sharp, just as I thought." Her tone carried meaning beneath the surface. "I heard that three days ago, you saved Edward from a runaway horse using nothing but an axe and a few bolts of cloth."
"Your Majesty overpraises me. I was only lucky." I replied.
"Lucky?" The queen smiled. "My foolish son may believe that, but I don't. The angle, force, and timing of your strike were all perfect. You saved the rider, hurt neither the horse nor yourself.
"That kind of judgment and nerve isn't something an ordinary shopkeeper just happens to have."
My heart skipped a beat.
The queen was not someone I could fool easily.
"I won't beat around the bush." The queen waved a hand, and the attendants in the hall all filed out, leaving only the two of us behind.
"Edward is my youngest son. I've doted on him, and in doing so, I've ruined him. He's nineteen and has accomplished nothing. He loafs around all day without a shred of responsibility.
"The King has warned me more than once that if he still doesn't shape up, his title and lands will be stripped and he'll be cast down to common status."
When she said that, her eyes reddened. "It's not the lands I care about. I'm afraid that one day, when the King and I are gone, how is he supposed to survive alone in this city that eats people alive?"
Listening to her left my feelings all tangled up.
The heart of this mother felt painfully familiar to the way I felt about my own father.
"I need someone who can wake him up." The queen's eyes settled on me. "I've looked into your background, Charlotte Sinclair. Eldest legitimate daughter of Sinclair Manor. Writing poetry at seven, essays at ten, managing the household accounts by fifteen.
"After marriage, you turned your husband's small estate into one of the best properties outside the capital. Your abilities go far beyond chopping wood and cutting fabric.
"I want you to become Edward's tutor."
I nearly choked on my own spit. "Your Majesty, I am only a..."
"A pitiful woman dragged down by others." The queen cut me off, took out a letter from her sleeve, and placed it gently on the table. "I can have your family's exile sentence revised.
"If you agree to help me, your father, your mother, and your brother can all return to the capital."
My pupils shrank.
Three years of longing, guilt, and pain all crashed over me at once.
"Your Majesty, do you mean that?"
"When I speak, I mean it."
I knelt there, my mind racing.
Teach Prince Edward how to be a decent human being? A nineteen-year-old giant baby? A spoiled fool who couldn't even take care of himself?
The job didn't sound humanly possible.
But if I refused, my whole family really would spend the rest of their lives in that disease-ridden southern exile. My father was fifty-three this year, and my mother was nearly fifty.
A few more years there, and I might not even get their bodies back.
"I have one condition." I raised my head and looked the queen straight in the eye.
She arched a brow. "Go on."
"My son, Benjamin Sinclair, comes with me into the estate."
The queen froze for a second, then smiled. "I thought you were going to ask for something serious. Fine. Edward's estate has more than enough rooms."
"And one more thing." I gritted my teeth. "I'm not going there as a servant. A tutor is the same as a teacher. If Prince Edward refuses to cooperate, I must have the authority to discipline him."
This time the queen genuinely laughed. "You really are bold. Fine, fine. I'll give you a token. If Edward misbehaves, discipline him however you like. If anything goes wrong, it falls on me."
I accepted the heavy token, but I couldn't feel happy at all.
Teach a prince how to be a decent man? I hadn't even fully figured out how to raise my own son yet.
Ben still believed his father was an angel.
But for my family, I jumped into the fire pit anyway.