Dr. Hildegard rushes over with his medical bag and ushers me into a seat. “Let’s have a peek at those sores.”
He kneels and opens his bag, digging around for supplies.
“Those are positively ghastly,” my father says. “Do they hurt very much?”
“Not really,” I say with a shrug.
One of the flight attendants appears with a tray of tea, gingerbread cookies, and fresh fruit. She sets it on the table between my chair and my father’s, and pours our tea while the doctor takes hold of my left foot and begins to bandage it. I glance down and feel a pang, remembering the last time someone looked after my ankle sores. Will, at the campfire on our first night together. The thought of it makes me want to cry and smile all at once.
“Eat up, Arabella,” Father says. “You’re positively gaunt.”
Picking up a cookie, I find it warm and soft. Oh, yes. I take a bite, feeling the sugar and spices dance across my tongue while I chew. My father picks one up too and watches me the entire time he eats it. Dr. Hildegard finishes up with my ankles and smiles up at me.
“Thank you,” I say. “That feels much better.”
“Will she be all right, Doctor?” my father asks.
“Oh yes. She’s still dehydrated and obviously tired. But once she’s eaten, replenished her liquids, and had a solid night’s sleep, she’ll be as good as new.”
“Thank you,” Father says. Raising his voice, he tells the staff he needs a few minutes alone with me.
Dr. Hildegard picks up his bag and hands me a plush blanket that his nurse was holding. “I’ll want to check those sores again tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
With that, he leaves, following everyone else as they scatter to various parts of the jet.
“I’m sure you’re quite angry with me,” I say, looking across the table at him. “And if you are, I don’t really give a damn.”
His eyes pop open, and he gasps.
“That’s right. Don’t bother lecturing me because I did what I did, and I’d gladly do it again,” I say, lifting my chin. “Allof it. Even pushing that awful Sinclair woman into the mud.” I give him a devious smile.
He stares at me for a second, then starts to laugh. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had no idea you could be so … terrifying.”
“Me either, but it turns out I’m actually quite fierce.” I pick up my mug of tea and hold it to my lips, inhaling the scent of Earl Grey with clover honey.
Father leans in. “Whatever made you do that?”
“She had it coming,” I say, sipping my tea.
“No, I mean running away. Disappearing into the jungle like that,” he says. “The entire kingdom has been in a complete uproar since you left. It’s been absolute chaos. The media has been going mad suggesting you were kidnapped or in rehab or the hospital or dead. They even started harassing Bellford, if you can believe it. Filming him while he’s out getting groceries and hassling him for a comment.”
“Oh, dear,” I say, feeling my earlier resolve start to wane. “I certainly didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
“Come on, you must have known you were putting us all in a terrible position,” he says, keeping his voice calm. “And for what? A reality television show, of all things.”
“It’s not a reality show. It’s a nature documentary-slash-survival show?”
He sits back in his chair and stares, waiting for a proper answer.
I rest my head on my seatback and sigh. “I’ve spent my entire life being nothing more than a memory of someone I never knew. I needed to figure out who I am and what I’m capable of, instead of always letting other people decide for me.”
“Is this about the red dress?” he asks, squinting his eyes. “Arthur’s been adamant that if I’d have just okayed the stupid dress, none of this would have happened.”
“No, of course not,” I say, shaking my head. “Well, yes, I suppose in a way. It’s not just about the dress, though. It’s about the Equal Everywhere campaign and being pushed into finding a husband I don’t want, and…and never having any control over my life. I’m an adult and yet, I never make a single decision for myself.”
“I see,” he says, nodding slowly.
