Chapter 3
What could I possibly say to him now?
He was the king, and he'd a woman he loved.
I wanted to tell him I hated him, but I couldn't.
I was dying, but my family still had to go on living, serving the king.
I forced a smile, my face ghostly pale, and whispered, "May Your Majesty's rule be ever prosperous and free of troubles."
Suddenly, he clasped my hand tightly.
Joshua lowered his head, resting his forehead against mine, his body shaking.
"If I could choose again, I'll still have you as my Queen," he whispered.
A single hot tear landed on my forehead.
My mind was getting hazy.
If I could choose, I'd never be his Queen again.
I breathed my last in his arms.
Joshua held my cold hand, but no matter how tightly he gripped it, the warmth never came back.
The rain that fell that day was the same as today's.
It was a light rain that landed on my face.
I brushed the rain from my face and sighed quietly.
The Queen was supposed to send one of her maids to escort me out of the palace.
After waiting forever, no one showed up. I turned around.
The palace doors were shut tight. Under the eaves stood a man, holding an unopened umbrella, our eyes meeting through the rain falling like strings of pearls.
It was Joshua.
I remembered that before the marriage was arranged, the Queen was already trying to play matchmaker for us.
Back then, I was always tagging along after Joshua, riding horses, hunting, and playing games by the stream.
But he was always lukewarm toward me.
After the marriage was arranged, he finally gave me a small, helpless smile, like he was just giving in.
"Guess spending my whole life with you wouldn't be the worst thing," he had said.
I quietly stepped back, keeping my gaze lowered and looking as meek as possible, then dipped into a formal curtsy.
"Good afternoon, Your Highness," I said softly.
Joshua came down the steps, slow and steady.
Even through the rain, I could see his eyes were wet, and for some reason, he looked strangely lonely.
"Why isn't it you?" Joshua asked.
He really didn't get it.
After all, between me and Daphne, the Queen clearly preferred me, and I was obviously in love with him.
I froze for a second.
Everyone else had been sent away, and when I didn't answer, he lowered his gaze to me, waiting.
Joshua wasn't much of a talker when he was young, and was always aloof.
Feeling uncomfortable, he hesitated, then repeated, "Why isn't it you? The Queen picked you first, you know."
Seeing Joshua wouldn't let it go, I just wanted to roll my eyes.
Back in my previous life, when I had eyes only for him, he acted like I didn't exist.
Now that I couldn't care less, he suddenly couldn't leave me alone.
Men really were all the same, wanting what they couldn't have.
I pulled my umbrella back, not wanting any of his dampness to touch me.
"So, Your Highness, you want the truth, or should I make something up?" I asked.
Joshua's brows knitted tightly. "The truth, of course."
"The truth is," I said, meeting his eyes with a big grin, "I got a reading from a fortune-teller who said it'd be disastrous if we married."
Joshua was stunned.
He'd run through a million possible reasons in his head, thinking I didn't care about status, that maybe I thought I wasn't good enough.
But he never expected that I'd throw out some totally bogus excuse to shut him up.
"Gilda," Joshua snorted and said through gritted teeth, "Do you think I'm three?"
"If you don't buy it, I'll introduce you to the fortune teller," I shot back.
I gave the laziest curtsy I could muster, not even pretending to be respectful.
"Rain's coming down hard, Your Highness. Wouldn't want your royal head to get soaked and go soft. I'm heading out," I said.
And with that, I turned and walked away.
Behind me, Joshua yelled, totally losing his cool, "Gilda! Stop right there!"
I took off, faster than a rabbit.
Stop? Only a fool would stop.
Last time I stopped for him, I ended up living like a widow, while his mistress treated me like dirt and rubbed it in my face every chance she got.
From now on, we would go our separate ways and pretend we never existed to each other.
*****
When I got home, my father was pacing anxiously in the hall, worried sick.
The moment he saw me, he hurried over, his face full of exasperation and disappointment.
"Gilda, are you out of your mind? The Queen clearly favored you. How could you throw away all that prestige to the Hawkins family?" he demanded.
I took a long sip of coffee, needing a second to steady myself.
"Father, that kind of prestige is way too much for me. I wasn't built to shoulder it," I joked.
My father was so mad his beard was practically twitching. "Nonsense! The Duke of Vaughnsburg is the cream of the crop. He's the future king."
His voice dropped. "If you marry him, our family would be..."