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Chapter Six

Gwendolyn

Ten Months Before Present Day

“ Y ou have spent years with that prince, and you would think you would have secured his interest by now!” Mother shouted at me over breakfast.

I flinched and ducked my head.

“Must you get so upset at breakfast? I have barely had my tea,” Father groaned, wiping at his face.

Michael, my older brother by four years and John, my younger brother of two years sat on the other side of me, ignoring Mother as they usually did.

I would have, too, if all her shouts and disappointments were not directed at me.

“She must secure him!” Mother shouted again, that time setting her teacup down with such grace that one would never have believed her shouts were connected to those hands. She was so measured with her movements. I wished she were better at measuring her voice.

“Mother, Wendy is too timid,” Michael finally said. I was grateful for him at times like those when his comments helped me.

“Yes, Wendy needs an arranged marriage. I hear that is how things are done in the East,” John added.

“I-I do not think I could–ever–” The idea of an arranged marriage! John was up to his ridiculousness. I glared at him, and he smiled. I saw Michael smack him in the head.

“An arranged marriage?” Father said, and I turned to see him looking at me as he stroked his beard. “I do not like that idea.”

“Maybe it is all the hope we have. Despite my laborious efforts, Gwendolyn remains unweddable!” Mother shouted.

“Again, my dearest wife, please, it is too early in the morning for your shouting,” Father grumbled, massaging his temple.

“I must be off,” I said, standing quickly and curtsying, but then, Michael spoke again, and I paused.

“Have you heard about the missing children from the orphanage? It is such a shame.”

“What? More?” I asked, turning to face him.

Prince Peter had told me years earlier when the first few children had been taken.

It was not a one-time thing; many children had been taken over the past years.

I had not been going to the orphanage because of my job with the prince, so I had set up another reader for those children.

Still, I felt a pain in my chest at the thought of anything happening to them.

“Yeah, about thirty children in total from a few orphanages have gone missing now.”

My heart ached.

What is happening?

“The royal guards best find them. We don’t want them on the street as beggars. Can you imagine?” Mother said, and I ground my teeth at her comment.

“Are they still searching?” I asked Michael, ignoring Mother.

“Yes, I heard that the queen sent another task force of guards to investigate again,” Michael said, taking a bite from his egg.

“I am glad of that. I must go,” I said, fleeing the room as fast as I could, while still being graceful.

Once I left the breakfast table, I moved to the front door, my hands fisted in anger.

It was early, and the royal carriage would not be arriving to pick me up for ten more minutes, but I could not sit there a moment longer.

I would give John a piece of my mind for suggesting an arranged marriage.

I was grateful that Michael changed the topic of conversation, although it added some worry to my mind.

I had always appreciated the queen. Her kindness was known throughout the entire kingdom.

I was grateful she was still looking into those missing children, although sad that nothing had been found.

How could there be no trace of them ?

I pulled my shoulders back and tried to focus less on my anger and worries, and more on the day ahead of me.

I was going to see Prince Peter. I had grown fond of him.

He was kind, fun, and I had become very comfortable in his company.

Seeing him every day was the only light in my life.

I hated being at my home, and his need for a storyteller brought me a freedom I had never realized I could have.

Securing that position for me was one of the only good things my mother had ever done for me.

But while I had formed an attachment to the prince, he had not become attached to me in the same way.

He needed me to be his storyteller, and that was enough for him.

We had spent much time studying there with Martha in the background, but he had also taken me to read to him at the beach, in the garden, in the ballroom, and countless other random places.

“My Lady, the royal carriage is here.”

I nodded, tucked the book under my arm, and walked to the carriage.

As the footman opened the door for me, I stepped up, seeing another hand, then a head, pop into focus.

“Gwen!” Prince Peter said as he tugged at my hand and pulled me beside him inside the carriage.