Page 10 of Fit for a Prince (Fit For A Crown #1)

Chapter ten

I was starting to despise the bedchamber more than my prison cell.

A full week passed, with only Mara and occasional visits from Oren keeping me sane.

To my surprise, meal trays were starting to come regularly.

Hearty soups, balanced suppers, and light breakfasts slowly helped me rebuild my strength, making me finally feel like myself again.

My morning porridge portions had slowly been increasing along with my stomach space. I couldn’t help but think back to Atlas’s words every time the meals arrived.

“You’re just not ready. We’ll see what you can do when you can do more than stay upright.”

Whether he would admit it or not, it shook him to see me in that awful state.

Wearing a ballgown to the luncheon would have concealed the damage captivity had done to me, while the prison smock had made it impossible to miss.

It had been the perfect way to make them see me, but it wasn’t what they wanted to see .

I stood up from my meal, shifting over to the desk at the end of my bed. My notes were neatly stacked, and my last bit of ink was nearly dry. Oren had been sneaking me paper every chance he got, but the ink and fresh quills were a little tricky to come by, so I tried not to waste them.

I collected as much ink as I could on the quill’s tip, scratching another row of notes under Atlas’s name. He was looking more promising the further I broke down his attributes, but he was still a gamble I wasn’t sure I could afford.

Mara scooped out the fireplace’s ashes, being extra careful not to spill even a single fleck onto the woven rugs.

She built up a new fire in its place, even being cautious enough to build up the logs in a neat and symmetrical manner.

Her fear of her captors was my motivation to gamble everything, but also my reminder of why I should play it safe.

Becoming an Aemastian princess would give me the chance to be a voice for the remnants of my people.

Whether it felt like it or not, I was the most powerful Ivalonian in existence right now.

At least, I was from my perspective. There was also the rebellion I wasn’t supposed to know about.

I twisted the ring on my finger, my stomach knotting as I sensed the magic tying it to my soul. This was only a fraction of the magic that Ivalon had been hiding. Did that mean that the rebels were utilizing what was left?

I hoped so.

“You should know, my lady.” Mara’s quiet voice drew my attention away from my notes.

She only used that tone when she was speaking about something she wasn’t supposed to.

“They were talking about you again in the servants’ quarters.

They’ve already ruled out all the Aemastian servants that might have told you to wear your prison attire to the luncheon.

They’re questioning the lower-class servants now. ”

They were going to push the blame to the Ivalonians.

“Have they questioned you yet?” I asked as I put more pressure on my quill.

“They questioned me right after it happened, my lady,” Mara said. “But I was in the laundry rooms when the messenger supposedly came by, so I was cleared early on.”

Good. Keeping notes on Mara’s schedule had proven useful, but if they were still poking around, it would probably be best to memorize that note page and then burn it.

If a guard saw that I’d been keeping track of Mara’s absences, that would be too much evidence against me.

Honestly, all of my notes were risky, but I had never been in the habit of hiding my thoughts.

Even in prison, I’d needed to scratch out math problems in the dirt to keep my mind occupied.

In Ivalon, it was good to showcase your abilities. That was part of how I’d gained King Leopold’s favor, after all. Every day, I had to be better, stronger, or smarter, so the more evidence I left of my skill, the safer I was.

Here, it was the opposite.

“Let me know if they question you again.” I sifted through my notes until I found the papers on Mara. “If they decide to punish you for it, I’ll confess what happened. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of the consequences for something I did on my own.”

“I couldn’t possibly let them punish you instead,” Mara said with a stubborn puff of her chest. “They already starved you once. There’s no telling what the king would do if he knew...” She bit her lip. “You know...”

I held up Mara’s paper, scanning over the details and absorbing the information as efficiently as I could.

She spent most of her time with me, so it made sense that she had grown attached to my presence.

It was sweet to see her protective of me, but also foolish.

The closer she let herself get to me, the more entwined our fates would become, and as reckless as I’d already been, it didn’t bode well for her.

“I’d rather them starve me than slaughter you,” I said with a brief glance over the parchment.

The blood drained from her face, and her bold posture slumped.

“If the king wanted to kill me, he would have done it at the first excuse he had. King Leopold might be dead, but King Septimus’s jealousy of his successes is still plenty alive.

He won’t be satisfied with my death when he’s already set on marrying me off to one of his sons as a final stamp on Damon’s grave. ”

I reread Mara’s schedule, taking note that she was always gone for a few hours between lunch and tea hour. She couldn’t possibly be doing laundry every day, especially with the high quantity of servants and the small number of royals and guests. Her free time might be useful in the future.

“Do you really think the king will let you live?” Mara asked with a glimpse of hope that was no bigger than the sliver of light through a cracked cell door.

“Not if I don’t marry a prince,” I said bluntly. “But, otherwise, I think he’d need a mighty good reason to kill me. Which means any punishment they give me now will be a punishment they’re giving their future princess, and I plan to keep track of every insult to my future crown.”

I folded up Mara’s paper, deciding to look it over one more time after supper before burning it.

Mara glanced over at the remaining notes on my desk.

Most of them were harmless for her eyes.

They were simple notes on my observations from the princes, calculations of risk percentages, and timings of guard changes that happened outside the chamber doors.

“You certainly seem to be good at making plans,” Mara said, sounding torn between being impressed and anxious. “Goodness, this is a lot of information, and math too. Where did you learn how to do this sort of thing?”

My ring felt heavy again, dragging my heart down with it as I fought not to look at the painful reminder of my past life.

“Very impressive.” King Leopold sounded far from pleased despite his words, but it was a better response than last time I’d attempted to document his battle notes. “But still lacking. If you wish to have a place in this kingdom, then you’ll need to make yourself more valuable.”

I couldn’t help it. I twirled the ring around and squeezed my fingers around the stone.

“Damon taught me.” The voice that came from me felt like it was separated from my soul, only a ghost of the dead girl who was still breathing. “Surviving in Ivalon wasn’t much different than surviving here. Damon was the only one who helped me.”

Saying his name left a bitter taste in my mouth. I wrestled with my memories of him. He may have helped me survive, but he was no hero. We’d both used each other for what we wanted most.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Mara started to reach out but decided to bury her hands in her apron pocket when I gave her a rigid look. I didn’t need sympathy when I was focusing on building my strength. “It must be difficult to try and pursue a man so soon after losing another.”

It was. More than she could ever know, and more than I would ever tell.

“Damon is gone.” I looked down at my closed fist, staring at the back of the enchanted band that I still didn’t have the courage to remove.

“But he’s always with me, whether I like it or not.

The lessons he taught me in Ivalon are what will keep me alive today.

It’s because of him that I know what a prince wants, and how to become that. ”

I stood up from the desk, facing away from Mara while I took a moment to collect myself. She didn’t return to her cleaning like I’d hoped, her focus riveted to her past and future princess.

“How?” she asked softly. “How will you become what they want?”

I twisted the ring back around, letting the jasper face outward again. It was more than a reminder of Damon’s impact on my life, it was a reminder of all the horrible acts I was capable of .

“By whatever means necessary,” I said in a stone-cold voice. “Starting with spending more time with them. My life depends on their attention, so I’ll get it in whatever way I can.”

“I understand that...” Mara took in a shaky breath. “But—”

Knock, knock.

Mara jumped, taking a brief second to glance around the room before rushing for the door. No one had knocked for a week now.

I placed a book over top of my notes, then in a split-second decision, I slipped Mara’s schedule into the crackling fireplace. It wasn’t worth getting caught with when it could place her in further danger. She was worth protecting.

Mara smoothed out her apron, then knocked back on the door so they could turn the key. The same stuffy steward from before was waiting on the other side with a pair of grumpy guards.

“Lady Diaspro.” The steward had one of those smug grins on his face that could only mean trouble for me. “Come with me. You’ve been summoned to appear before the king.”