Page 26 of A Cake of Cherries and Charm

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Natalie chewed her lip. “But do your best to– Well, as much as I’m loath to say it, don’t encourage my cousin’s attention, if at all possible. He’s a man and doesn’t realize what kind of scandal is brewing right under his nose. Nor has he likely considered the repercussions of the attention he’s given you.”

As Natalie spoke, Rosie’s heart sank. She had so few friends at the palace as it was. Prince Jonathan’s quiet protection had become a comfort. While not as flamboyant or dashing as his younger brother, he was genuinely kind, and if those kindnesses weren’t always carried out with the greatest of sensitivities, they were at least well intended. Having even less of that kindness in her life was going to leave it rather empty.

He’s getting married soon anyway, a mean little voice inside her head whispered. It’s not as though he’ll be able to pay attention to you then.

Natalie bid Rosie farewell after that, and Rosie was left alone.

Again.

So with nothing else to do, she took the now-rumpled parchment with the drawing of her cake on it and returned to her room. But to her surprise, when she arrived, her mother was waiting for her in her suite.

“Hello, Mother,” she said, closing and locking the door behind her, wishing the lock could keep out unhappiness as it would a stranger. Still, she did her best to smile as she turned to face her mother, who was sitting on a chair by the fire. “What are you doing today?”

Usually, her mother stayed locked in her own room as much as possible, leaving only to attend meals and events at which she was specifically requested. So it was a surprise that she should be in Rosie’s room at such an hour. But now, as she met Rosie’s eyes, Rosie realized that her mother’s face was pale, and her eyes were red. Her yellow hair still had little silver in it, but she suddenly looked as though she’d aged years over the last few weeks.

“Come here,” her mother said, patting the side of her leg. Knowing what her mother wanted, Rosie hurried to her mother’s side and knelt beside her so her mother could take Rosie’s hands and hold them in her lap. It was a posture of love, one Rosie and Snow had learned early as children.

“I spoke with my maid this morning,” she began in a brittle voice. “And I was told that an… an unfortunate rumor is circulating.”

Rosie closed her eyes and groaned. “Natalie told me as well. But Mother, I promise there’s not an ounce of truth–”

“And I only wanted to remind you,” her mother continued, her voice growing suddenly stronger, “that before we left, Sonia made me promise that I would send you back to her should you find life undesirable here.”

As she spoke, Rosie recalled Sonia’s offer.

But if it’s too much, know that you always have a home with us. My husband spent time in the palace, and it… it’s not for the faint of heart.

“Sonia shared the offer with me as well,” Rosie said, dredging up a smile. “But Mother, you know I couldn’t leave you and Snow here all alone!”

“Oh, you needn’t worry about me.” Her mother touched Rosie’s face. “I’m safer here than I’ve ever been. I have three good meals a day and will never need you to chop firewood again. And Snow will have all the protection human hands can offer. But you…” She swallowed hard. “You can go back to our old life! You can find a man of honor and be happy without all this–”

“Mother, are you trying to send me away?” Rosie cried, feeling suddenly on the verge of tears. Which was silly. Her mother would never desire her gone for the sake of getting rid of her. But after feeling rather unwanted all morning, her feelings were dangerously close to the surface.

“I’m trying to give you the escape that I wish I had!” her mother exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with tears and her face suddenly full of brilliant color. “I can’t leave this place, but you can!”

Rosie froze and blinked at her mother. Never in her life had her mother raised her voice at her like that before.

But then that vigor evaporated, and her mother seemed to fold back into herself, leaning against the chair back for support. When she spoke again, she sounded far older than her forty-six years.

“I can’t leave Snow to this… this prison for the world. But you, my love, can escape. You can go home. Today, should you wish it! We’re not that far from the village, after all.” She took Rosie’s face in her hands. “Go home, love. Fly free. I beg you.”

Chapter

Thirteen

Rosie spent the rest of the day hiding in her room, madly sketching and re-sketching her sister’s cake, multiplying ingredient measurements, and doing her best not to think of her mother’s words until she felt she might go mad. And when her sister demanded to know why she wasn’t going to dinner that night, Rosie pleaded a stomachache. This she did have, although she knew well that it was from nerves rather than an illness. Still, it was an excuse.

She used this excuse to remain in her room the next day as well, where she sat stewing over not only Lady Sandra’s horrible lie… but also her own reaction to it.

Rosie had grown up believing herself to be above caring what others thought. Their village had been small enough for everyone to know everyone, which meant all members at some point had been dragged into this pettiness or that by another. There had been rumors enough when one of the newer residents–a shrewd businessman–had tried upon her father’s death to convince her mother to marry him and live the traveling life. Rosie had weathered that storm with less sensibility than her mother and her sister combined, assuring them that he would soon move on, and that the village would eventually find something else to gossip about. And sure enough, it had. But this…

This was different. Perhaps, Rosie admitted with more than a little shame, it was different because she was the target rather than her mother. After all, how different were the courtiers from her own village’s busybodies?

But there was no Jonathan there, a voice in her mind whispered. And therein, much to Rosie’s embarrassment, lay the crux of the problem. She didn’t like Lady Sandra or her cruel daughter, nor did she enjoy being fodder for the delight of the gossipers like those they had heard in the garden the morning before. And she had no doubt that Frederick wouldn’t believe a word of the nonsense. But it was the crown prince’s reaction Rosie couldn’t bear to imagine. Would he be angry that she had dragged his name into the mud?

Would he begin to ask himself whether she was really dangling after him? Or would he perhaps wish to separate himself from her, as Natalie had suggested she separate herself from him?

Even if he did, though… why should Rosie care? She wasn’t one of his parents’ favorites, after all. It wasn’t as though she was even an option for him to pursue should he want to. And why he would ever wish to pursue her, she didn’t know. They’d only known each other a few weeks–even if he had rescued her from not one but two unpleasant situations. And made sure Rosie had appropriate court attire. And sent his cousin to teach her how to conduct herself within it. And commissioned a protective necklace for Snow…