“Most do.” She didn’t elaborate.
“Most would trade their front teeth for a chance to see a prince. Not hide in the kitchens.”
“He’s not worth a donkey’s tooth,” she spat.
“I am only asking for information,” I said, though she had just given me some. “It need not change anything. So that I might better prepare them. My daughters. Elin. Wouldn’t you want the same for your sisters? Morwen, please tell me—what do you know of the prince? Have you waited on him? Did he visit your last household?”
She snorted.
“That’s a yes, then?”
Morwen sank her face into the heel of her hand and took a deep breath. Glanced at the open door to the room.
“Come, come into the dressing room, then,” I assured her, leadingthe way. An ornate tub sat empty above wide-planked floors. Little light came through the solitary window. “No candles,” I told Morwen, as she followed me in. “But more privacy. Come in, no one can hear us in here.”
She stepped in, after me, but remained silent.
“Go on,” I told her, gently.
But she remained silent, stubborn—or unwilling.
I reached out and grabbed ahold of her arm. Squeezed harder than I should have. Dug my fingernails into her soft flesh. “Please, Morwen.”
She looked down at her arm. “You’re hurting me.”
I dug in a little tighter. “They are my daughters.”
Morwen held my eyes for a moment. I released her arm, and, as I did, she exhaled. “I used to work in the palace,” she explained.
I nodded, though my pulse began to thrum. Some part of me thinking,Here we are.
“I was Princess Hemma’s lady’s maid,” Morwen continued.
“Simeon’s sister.” I nodded. “What of Simeon?” I didn’t want to say anything to deter her from speaking.
“What of him?” Morwen’s face went dark.
“Please,” I told her.
She nodded. “His nature is common knowledge.”
“At court?”
She chose her words carefully. “He is charming, yes, but… something else, too. He has an ability to make you feel complicit in his desires, in the moment, but after leaves one wondering what happened.”
“What happened, then?”
“People know to avoid him,” she tried to explain.
“Does he harm women?” I asked, too quickly. My fingernails digging into my own flesh now.
She stiffened. “Ma’am, you misunderstand me. Princes are princes. Power is power. People are not concerned with how he treats the women.”
I lost whatever gentleness I was holding on to. “Then what is it that you are telling me?” I demanded. “What is it that I need to know?”
“I am trying to say that his engagement—they could not arrange a marriage for him. They could not find a noble man or cousin willing to marry off his daughter. The ball—that is why they invited all the country women.”
“To find him a wife.”
