~Mary~

It was a battle that she had been fighting every night for the last week now. This damned book just wouldn’t lay flat on the table. With only one hand, it was enough to hold the thing open while running the risk of hand cramps, but turning the page was near impossible. The candle was starting to flicker too and it wasn’t easy to mark a place with one hand either. She persevered and finally got the book to close on the corner of a slip of paper she was using as a bookmark. It took a little bit more time to slide it in far enough that it wasn’t at imminent risk of falling out, but that too she persevered through. Mary couldn’t really be so angry over the broken wrist since it beat getting a sword through the gut. There was a sizable stack of letters that had been arriving since the incident and of those few that she had read, they were just expressing concern over her wellbeing. Mary wasn’t one to dislike such well-wishes, but it did start to get old when it was the tenth one in a day. It was still possible that there might be something interesting buried in there though. Resigned to the thankless task of reading lines straight from etiquette manuals, she broke the seal on the top one.

The letter inside started with the usual greetings and prayers for her quick recovery. The last time she had gone to church services was before the reforms when she was six years old. The priests had been angry when they had found out that she hadn’t memorized the words to basic rites, but it had all seemed so useless. What good were rites to honor some god if they meant nothing until after you were dead? She had been forced to stay late that day as punishment, so when she heard two priests arguing about where to set the price of indulgences, it was with great pleasure that she reported it to her father. The two priests had been hanged along with a fair amount of the upper-level clergy by the time the investigations came to a close. To have someone praying for her felt like a way to foist responsibility off to some unknowable other.

The next section of the letter began with a grand description of her striking beauty. My lady’s eyes shine like the stars and my lady’s figure is unmatched in all the kingdom—utter drivel. It then invited her to attend a private party, and then devolved once again into complimenting her looks. Mary wasn’t about to fool herself and believe that she looked anything more than average. She didn’t bother to keep up with fashion nor did she attempt the starvation regimens that allowed women to fit into those absurdly thin-waisted dresses. It didn’t help that this particular writer lacked the imagination to at least entertain her while spouting off flattery. Mary was almost tempted to go to the party just to test this empty-headed fool’s wits in front of the rest of his guests. Almost.

Mary folded the letter back up and put it in the pile that would get a ghostwritten response. Chella was becoming quite the accomplished letter writer with all the work recently, but it did cut into the time she could be attending her. It just wasn’t the same to have tea without the conversation. Worse, if Chella was writing a letter, then she couldn’t be helping to turn pages as Mary read. The girl had been with Mary since before she could properly remember and there wasn’t a single person she trusted more. It actually would’ve been far more fitting if the compliments had been aimed at Chella. Even though she was of humble origins and her clothes betrayed her status as an attendant, she was breathtaking in a way that Mary simply wasn’t. Chella probably would’ve passed as Mary’s sister if not for the reputation that the Wellsworths had built for themselves by unfailingly looking plain. She had the same hair and build, just softer where Mary looked hard. It was too bad that the royal academy only accepted nobility since she was certainly more intellectually capable than some of the oafs enrolled.

The next envelope in the pile bulged slightly. Either there was a great deal to be said, or it was another composition. Mary was pretty sure that most of the men that sent her those couldn’t play to save their lives though, because almost without exception, they included sections that looked like they demonstrated great technical expertise, but were actually just impossible. It really shouldn’t have been hard to avoid writing in twelve note chords on the piano or chords with the same B# and C at the same time. It would probably just be endangering her ears to actually try listening to them, so she mostly just ignored even the ones that were playable. Mary broke the seal and fished out the contents. The bulge was actually caused by a folded up portrait of the sender sitting atop a rearing horse with sword drawn. It occurred to Mary that the horse might have been trying to throw the man off. She wouldn’t blame the beast for trying to get rid of its rider; if he was the type to send an unsolicited portrait of himself with a letter, then there's no telling what he would be like as a rider.

This one made short work of dispensing with the formalities of well-wishing to get on with the compliments. It was a mystery to Mary where this particular man got the confidence to call himself one of her suitors, but it earned him a spot with the last letter to get one of Chella’s dearest and most heartfelt apologies that she was ever so terribly busy. The next envelope on the stack had the royal seal on it, so she took care to check for any signs of tampering before she opened it. It never hurt to be careful. There didn't seem to be any problems, so Mary broke the seal and carefully unfolded the paper inside.

Dearest Marilynne,

It is my sincerest hope that this letter finds you in improving health. I was most worried when the news of your attack arrived. I am sure that it must have been a traumatizing experience, so I have reached out to console you. Having lived as the crown prince all my life, I have myself been subjected to the most horrible of dangers and plots. I am always surrounded by guards and tailed by men whose names I don't even know. All in the name of my safety. It is at once a most uncomfortable scrutiny under which I must live my life as well as a great burden that I am forced to bear. Whatever the dangers that I would inevitably be exposed to, I sometimes wonder if such a life without it all would be a better one. Nevertheless, I understand my duties to be of the utmost importance and therefore I have also come to accept that it is necessary. But rather than dwell on matters which I'm sure are uncomfortable for you to remember, perhaps it is better that I shift to lighter topics.

As I am sure you have at least heard in passing, my ascendence to the crown comes with it the requirement that I choose a suitable candidate to be the queen of this kingdom. There are of course pressures from various groups to pick their own candidates so that they can push their own interests, but they offer so little to the stability of the kingdom that I hesitate. I am prepared to allow you to leave the politicking to me as I am sure that governance is a dull pastime. I would only ask of you that your father lend his support in the transition to come. Of course I do not want to force you to make the most important decision of your life so quickly, so I would like to offer that you attend a tea party at the palace on the next first day to build our relationship.

Crown Prince Phillip Argon

Mary gnashed her teeth, but willed her hands not to shred the thing as she folded up the letter and slid it back into the envelope. It would be difficult to get out of this invitation. The Crown Prince was getting more and more forceful as time went on. It had only been a week at the academy, and yet so much trouble had piled up. Mary blew out the candle and felt her way over to the bed. The first night she stayed up late, she had stubbed her toe against her bags in the unfamiliar room, so she took her time. The dorm room was only a couple strides across, so even with her shuffling, it didn't take long before she found the bed. Mary fell into the soft mattress and kicked off her slippers. She didn't even hear the soft thump as they hit the ground because she was already asleep.

***

"So how was your first week at the Royal Academy?" asked Mary's dad. It was rare to see Mellok's hair not in its well-combed obsessive perfection, but it was also the state that she loved seeing him in most. When it was just the two of them and the servants, he wouldn't be the adjudicator, just a middle-aged dad with a little bit of a belly from a fondness for sweets.

"It's fine. Classes are a little boring, but we're just starting out. Doesn't this line of questioning ever get old?" Mary replied, then got back to her food. The eggs were absolutely perfect after the rubber that they served at the dorm. Under no circumstance was she going to let them get cold. Mellok was just sipping at some tea, but Mary knew it was just cover. After she left, he would no doubt have some sugared pastry before he got anything done.

"You caught me. As a parent though, isn't it my sacred duty to ask that?" he chuckled, "But I have no doubt that you're just running circles around the teachers already. If not, I'll have to look into those tutors who said that they were the best of the best."

Mary blushed at the fawning, but redoubled her efforts to inhale her food to hide it. At the time, the only other person her age she ever interacted with Chella, so when they had sent the first tutor into a spiral of inferiority, she hadn't thought all that much of it. It was only when Mary had gone to her first party at the age of eight when she had really grasped the extent of things. She had tried to engage a girl in a conversation on whether morality or law came first, but the girl had burst out crying after she tried to explain things the third time. The girl's mother had thought that the whole thing had been a set up to embarrass her daughter and if it weren't for her dad talking the woman down, she might have denounced the Wellsworths right then.

"So Mary, I have an important message that I was asked to pass on."

Something in the timbre of her dad's voice made Mary look up from her eggs. The cheer sounded ever so slightly forced now. She could tell that he didn't want to let this atmosphere go, but he was also resolved to say his piece.

"You received an engagement offer. It's from Darren Masler. He met with me yesterday afternoon. I'm sure you remember him after what happened. He seemed very serious. I'm not sure it's my place to say this, but he didn't look like he was taking what happened to his father very well. It looked like he hadn't slept in days. Unless you have some reason to hate him, I want you to give him a chance. Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah. I can do that," Mary heard herself respond. If it gave her excuse to get away from that fucking inbred the Prince, she would jump at the chance. Plus, when he wasn't off in his own little world, Darren had been pleasant. He could be a bit dramatic as he had demonstrated before the council, but that was cute in its own way. She had noticed it when she was dragging him to martial training the day he got knocked silly by the instructor, but the way he walked was somehow effeminate. It reminded Mary of her mother before the strokes finally took her away. The way they checked their balance after every step and always used the rails when going up or down stairs. And Darren had went against his own father to save her life, so he deserved at least a chance.

***

~Darren~

It didn't matter how much tea I drank or how much I willed my eyes open, I knew that I was going back to that horrible sterile room. There was no strength left in me to keep fighting. It was all I could do to snuff out the candle and plunge the room into blackness before my head slumped onto the desk.

***

I opened my eyes to find that I had my controller in my hands and my laptop set up on my lap. It was running some game, but something prevented me from focusing on it. The whir of the fan inside the machine almost drowned out the hum of the lights, but not quite. I could also hear the footsteps of nurses and doctors passing by my room to go check on another patient. The shades were drawn over the window, but sunlight still shone through the thin fabric, bright enough that I had to look away. Going by the intensity, the lunch break visitors were about to arrive.

A knock came at the door, and then without even a pause to pretend that what I wanted mattered, it opened. The nurse looked something like every nurse I had ever seen and also like none of them. She didn't have the smile that nurses usually wore no matter the situation. That bad?

"We just got a call that your parents can't make it today. Are you holding up okay?"

I remembered now. This must have been the first time they fed me that line. I didn't even feel bad about it anymore. With the amount of money that they shelled out purely from a sense of guilt, it's not like they did anything wrong. They were just getting a head start on the grieving process when they stopped coming. It would've been nice if the nurses had been honest about it though. They kept saying today for months before they finally just dropped it. After that, I looked up my parents on the internet. They were doing fine; even had another kid. I still regretted the way I lashed out at the nurse who was with me when I found out though. I ended up throwing my phone at one of the nurses and his eye was swollen for almost a week afterwards. He still bought me a new one to replace the one I threw.

***

The Academy only held classes five days a week, so today, sixth day as they so fittingly called it, was obligation free. The problem was, I had nothing to do. The Academy's classes didn't assign homework, Lorn still hadn't come through with the money, and it wasn't safe to contact Hector or anyone else in the business. What do nobles do with their free time? I might've been able to call on a friend, but I basically only knew the characters from the game. Of those, Jezbeth should've been at least an acquaintance, but I had burned that bridge. Meeting with one of the characters who I should not have had a connection with would only bring this house of cards crashing down and probably lead to my death. I didn't even have the business to back me up at the moment.

I was saved from my boredom when a carriage rolled up to the gate and the gatekeeper rang the bell. Decorum be damned, I wasn't about to wait for the butler to get there and see the guest in. As I passed by some of the gardening staff, I noticed them cringe back out of my way, but I paid them no notice. They would be replaced soon enough. When I got closer, I recognized the colors of House Wellsworth, so I waved at the gatekeeper to let them in. At least he just did his job.

The person who entered was not one I recognized. She looked a lot like Mary did, but I was almost certain that Duke Wellsworth only had one child before his wife died. A look of calculation crossed her eyes before she went into a bow.

"I am greatly honored to be welcomed personally by the Duke himself. I come bearing a reply from the miss. Would you like to receive it here, or should we change location?" she said.

The reply should not have come so fast even if it was just a cold refusal. Something was off and I needed to find out what.

"I of course would not want to be so impolite as to make you stand here at the gate. Please, why don't we hear the reply over there?" I said, pointing out the small gazebo built into the garden.

With the gardeners cleared out so that they wouldn't overhear anything unnecessarily, it was just me and this servant from House Wellsworth. Unlike the disrepair inside the estate, the seating here was fine to the point of almost being extravagant. She seemed to be waiting for me before she spoke, so I took my time running through scenarios. First, she could be here because Duke Wellsworth hadn't actually passed on my offer and this was his way of turning me down. It didn't seem very likely given what I knew of the man, but to hold a position like his for as long as he had, there was no doubt that he had the ability to lie through his teeth without batting an eye. Second, Mary had absolutely detested the idea and was making that clear by getting things over with quickly. Certainly possible, but no matter how much she was against it, this was an uncharacteristic risk to be taking just because of a proposal. Third, there were some extenuating circumstances that made a fast reply necessary. The most likely but also the least vague option. Finally and perhaps the most absurd of them all, Mary was infatuated and too excited at the prospect for her own good.

"So what is the reply?" I finally asked.
"The miss has agreed to the engagement, but will reserve the right to cancel it should it not be a fortuitous match."

Carefully chosen words, those. If she doesn't want to be forced into things, why even accept so quickly? Even as questions ran through my mind, I could feel my insides tense at the words. I rocked back into my overly luxurious chair. The knife hidden against my leg pricked me as I rocked forward again. My heart thumped at the same speed it always did. Like my own personal metronome.

MrAntonym

Seeing things from a different perspective this week. Thanks for reading!