Warnings: This should probably have a PG-13 rating on it, seriously. Just so you know…a real warning this time.
You asked for Daryan, and so you got him.
Chapter Ten: Fresh Peaches
The next morning came far too early; I closed my eyes tightly against the light, trying desperately to savor the last moments of thinking that I was still in my old life. Since that only worked so long as no one was kicking me, and since I was fairly certain that if I didn't get up soon someone would be kicking me, I forced myself to a state of wakefulness.
I groaned as my cats' skins dragged painfully across my back. What a wonderful morning wake up! The rest of the day wasn't much better; Mistress Taggart was still quite furious and Lucia wasn't much nicer. By evening, I was more miserable than I had been in my entire stay. Not only was I in pain, but I felt deserted and unloved as well; I had not seen Livingston once that day, and no one else had bothered to cheer the hapless Catskin up.
Hurriedly gulping down my dinner of leftovers, I prepared myself for a night of hard work. The King was throwing yet another banquet, this time in honor of the foreign emissaries who had only recently arrived from far-away Althorn.
"I don't understand why every single member of their stinking foreign entourages must have their own place at the high table," Katy whined. "It's not like we get to sit up there, too."
"It really isn't fair," Lucia commiserated. "One day, Katy, we'll be up there."
I snorted softly. "Of course you will."
"I will! Just you watch!" Lucia sullenly glared at me. "It's not like you'll be anywhere up there." When I remained silent, she burst out in shrieking giggles. "So our very own Catskin thinks she's a lady, does she? Katy, did you hear that? Catskin, who could no more attract a man than the dishes could wash themselves, think she's going to marry into the gentry and sit at banquet!"
Katy echoed Lucia's malicious laughter. "She'll be up there in her grime, dropping bugs in the soup and shedding on the fine gowns of every other respectable lady!" She grinned nastily. "It's preposterous!"
"Not really," I mused in as neutral a voice as I could manage. "It's no more preposterous than thinking that Ser al Monteville will marry Lucia and take her to court." I had long ago mastered the art of smiling serenely even when I wanted to break something.
"I've got more chance than you'll ever have," Lucia retorted, not missing a beat in her assured superiority. "You'd just be a dirty little slut, putting out for whatever poor bastard would take you."
"And you're just a slightly cleaner slut." I couldn't help the satisfied grin that crept to my lips at her expression.
Katy broke the momentary silence. "At least she bathes…" She shrugged. "You don't seem to."
Lucia went from horrified to furious in a heartbeat. "Katy! You're supposed to be with me!" Her brow furrowed angrily. "I hate you! Both of you!"
I risked a glance at Katy during the ensuing silence. She was watching Lucia sadly, with great big brown bovine eyes. Katy didn't do anything to reconcile herself with Lucia, only sat there and watched her. It was strange.
"Lucia?" Katy finally whispered. "Luci, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Please don't hate me."
Lucia looked up, completely aware that I was watching. "Oh, Katy, I don't think I could ever hate you!" She launched herself at the other girl. "You're my best friend in the entire world! Of course you can still be my friend."
So intent was I on watching this sickly saccharine scene that I was completely oblivious to the visitor to the kitchen. Lucia, however, was not.
"Oh!" She swept an obsequious curtsey. "Your Highness! I hadn't realized that you had come in!" Katy quickly followed suit, murmuring pleasantries that no one could understand.
"Hello," Prince Daryan said casually.
Oh, for the love of the Saints. It was Daryan. Here. In the kitchen of all places. I nearly fainted from shock.
"My dearest Prince, how may I serve you?" I saw Lucia look up at Daryan- my beloved Daryan- through her eyelashes and I felt the sudden urge to capture his attention and get it away from her.
"I can help you!" I offered, interjecting myself awkwardly into the conversation.
"Who…What are you?" Daryan raised one eyebrow delicately. It was such a perfect motion.
"I'm Kel- Catskin, your Highness." My voice deserted me and I squeaked out the last syllables.
"Oh. You're rather…unique." He turned back to Lucia. "Get me something to drink, dear girl. Run along." I fairly preened under his labeling of me as unique. He thought I was special!
"Katy," Lucia ordered, "Go fetch Prince Daryan some wine, will you? And not the swill they usually serve." She smiled daintily. "Thank you, dearest," Lucia called after Katy.
I watched jealously as Daryan bestowed a gracious smile on Lucia. I wondered if she even knew how luck she was! Probably not, considering that she thought every man should desire her, no matter what.
"Your highness," I shuffled forwards, walking as best I could while curtseying, "I must warn you about Lucia, here. She's only looking to advance her position- she's socially voracious and…" I trailed off as the sound of Daryan's laughter replaced my voice.
"Cat-stink, or whatever your name is, don't worry your little head over my well being. I am well aware of all of dear Lucia's tricks; she and I have been acquainted for quite some time." My darling Prince reached out a slender finger to touch the sensitive skin of Lucia's throat. "I know all there is to know about little Lucia." His eyes raked her from head to toe, sparing no modesties. "Indeed, I do." Daryan chuckled, observing my look of disgusted fascination. "I know how she loves beautiful gifts, and how when she wants something, she will do anything- anything- to get it."
Lucia's eyes flew open, sending her look of ecstasy flying away. "Your highness- is this…" She swallowed as his fingertips grazed the lines of her collarbone. "Please," she whispered.
"I know," Daryan continued, his eyes following his hand, "That little Lucia is not such a little girl anymore, and I know that she wants to have her breath catch in her throat whenever I touch her." Lucia gave a strangled sob as the royal hand closed in about her throat. "I know that she loves to have control, and so I take it from her."
"Daryan- prince- beloved," I whispered, reaching out towards him, sickly wishing that he would look at me the way he was looking at Lucia. I was as repulsed as I was drawn to him, both aroused and revolted by this strange display.
"What?" He turned that intense grey stare on me. "Is this creature thinking that she should worship me?"
I sank slowly to the floor. "I am sorry if I have offended you." I bowed my head, until I felt warm fingers prying it upwards. "My prince?"
He smiled, a twisting of lips so delightful to watch that I couldn't help but smile in response, "No, it is right that you should bow before me. You sad, pathetic creature, I pity you. You have no one else to love, so you must love me."
My tongue moved of its own volition, pressing out the words, "Oh, I do." As I gazed lovingly into his eyes, feeling the heat of his skin on mine, I saw the confirmation of all my hopes; Daryan was watching me with such emotion that I was sure it was love.
"Your Highness, I've brought you your…wine…" Katy hastily curtseyed, a look of abject confusion on her face.
"Good." His attention suddenly ripped away from me, Daryan turned and snatched the goblet, spilling some of the deeply colored liquid onto me. I flinched away, and he laughed.
I glanced up at him, rather hurt.
"Oh, the poor creature," Lucia cooed, glaring at me with an expression that might kill small animals at close range. "You've spilled something on her."
He smiled. "Perhaps it will help to wash away some of the dirt."
"Perhaps it will, but you know, there's a lot of dirt on her." Lucia smiled sweetly up at Daryan from where she still knelt on the floor.
"Of course there is, Lucia. There is always some fatal flaw, an exploited weakness, which makes even the greatest kings fall." His flushed lips curved around the lip of the glass, revealing hints of white teeth and a pink tongue. "If dirt is this creature's flaw, her Achilles heel, then what does that make your vindictive pride? At least dirt is physical, and can be washed off, but what of character flaws?" Daryan seemed to be musing more to himself than to any of us. Quietly, subtly, so that we were all caught completely unawares, he tipped the entire contents of his goblet over Lucia.
"Your Highness!" She protested, red droplets clinging to her hair and rolling down her cheeks. "What have I done to deserve this? What?" Then, desperately, "Was the wine not to your satisfaction?"
"The wine was fine; it was from my father's stores after all. Thank you for providing me with it." Daryan offered one vaguely conciliatory smile, and then walked away.
As soon as he was gone, Lucia turned on me, that same look she had worn earlier masking her usually beautiful features. "You," she pronounced slowly, carefully, "Are the most horrid, awful, wretched thing that I have ever seen." She went on, elaborating on how terrible I was, even inventing a few new names for me.
When she stopped, I nodded. "Thank you for that, Lucia." My tone was utterly sarcastic. "I hope you don't mind if I return in kind one day."
She sneered, but said nothing to me. "Come, Katy, let's away." Lucia grabbed Katy's arm with one sticky hand and dragged the poor girl away.
I sighed, watching them leave. What a pair they made, fair girls of golden hair and pink, apple cheeks, but one vengeful and the other placid. "Poor Katy," I murmured to myself. "But I really don't think she cares."
Slowly, I got to my feet. I imagined that I could still feel the heat of Daryan's touch under my chin, lifting me upwards. I grinned, giddy exultation rushing through me. Daryan had defended me, even in my present state, against Lucia! He had scoffed at Lucia's obvious advances but had been charmed by my more subtle ones!
As I waltzed through the rest of the night, caring little for the mean and petty hardships, which assaulted my physical state, I entertained daydreams of Daryan, his hands wrapped in mine, his lips melding with mine, his heart one with mine. Granted, my work was sloppy and the dishes left dirty, but I simply didn't care.
Daryan loved me, and I loved him; that was all that mattered.
By the time I collapsed into bed that night, thoroughly exhausted, I was so high on my euphoria that I simply couldn't sleep. I lay there, happy beyond reason, staring at the dark that seemed to stretch forever above me. I knew there was a ceiling up there somewhere, but I wasn't entirely sure where.
So suffused with joy was I that I didn't notice the pains that usually ached; I didn't mind the rocky floor pressing up through my thin pallet. I forgot about the sadness of the past months, the betrayals and the lies; none of that mattered now. Soon, Daryan would return again to our underworld, bringing his princely light to my dungeon, and he would rescue me. He would sweep me up, kiss me, love me, marry me, and we would live happily, in love. I would be restored to my former, highborn glory, and Daryan would be immortalized as the King who saved a beloved Queen- his beloved Queen.
Slowly, every slowly, my eyes closed and I relaxed into sleep.
When I resurfaced in the light of a new false-dawn, I squeezed my eyes shut tight, clutching desperately at the memory of yesterday.
I was almost disappointed that I was still in the kitchens and still fairly filthy. I suppose that in some vain hope, I had dreamed that during the night, I would be whisked away on fairy's wings and made into the Princess that Daryan so desired.
I heard the swish of a foot being drawn back even before I could really identify it. Instinctively, I rolled away, slamming against the wall.
"That's right, Catskin, it's time to get up." Mistress Taggart thumped away from me and on to her next victim.
Reluctantly, I allowed light to seep through my eyes. "Why, morning?" I muttered to myself sleepily. I didn't want to return to the real world. Hauling myself to my feet, I ambled over to the woodpile and grabbed my first load of the day. It would be one of many; I knew from experience. Soon enough, my hands were stinging from the rough bark of the carelessly hewn wood, and I gratefully rid myself of each load when I reached the ovens.
By the time that breakfast was ready, I already ached more than I cared to think of. Gratefully, I sank down against a wall and began shoveling what passed as food into my mouth. When I had first come to the kitchens, I had refused to eat the thin, greasy mixture that was presented to me. I was used to finer things, and this food most certainly did not even qualify as fine to my highborn standards.
I hadn't taken me long to succumb to my hunger; I was used to regular meals, and that seemed far more important to my stomach than fine food. Everyday since then, I had consumed breakfast with little or no complain, resigning myself to this temporary hell.
"Good morning!" Livingston greeted me cheerfully. "How are you, my girl?"
"I'm not yours," I informed him snappishly. If anyone's, I was Daryan's.
His face went from smiling to frowning fluidly. "Well, someone isn't a morning person, is she?"
"No." I shoved a spoonful of breakfast into my mouth so that no more hurtful, unnecessarily cruel words would come out.
"Catskin?" Livingston's spoon hung in the air before his mouth, frozen in the act of conveying food to his mouth.
"What?" I asked, not a little sullenly.
"Bite my head off for breakfast, why don't you?" He finally crammed his breakfast into his mouth, and then talked around it. "Something happened, and you're not telling me what it is."
"You're smart. You can guess." I poked around the globules of food left in my bowl. "Daryan was here last night."
Livingston choked, his eyes widening both in shock and pain. As I punched him hard in the back, he gasped out, "His royal Highness Daryan?"
"Is there another one?" I stared morosely into my lap. I knew there could never be another like Daryan.
"No, I suppose not." Livingston coughed one last time, "What happened?"
So I told him over breakfast. I told him about Lucia, the wine, Katy and Daryan. Above all things, I told him about Daryan. "…And I think he knows who I am, and he loves me," I concluded.
"Why would he know who you are? You're a kitchen girl!" Livingston laughed, pointing out what he thought to be the obvious flaw in my logic.
"That's not…" I sighed. But of course. Livingston didn't know who I really was. "You're right." I scraped the last bit of breakfast into my mouth, once more mourning the loss of my old life.
"You need someone to keep your head out of those clouds," He said fondly, ruffling my hair. "Otherwise you'd be completely lost!"
"Indeed I would be." I smiled, albeit a little morosely. "Thank you." I clambered to my feet, wincing as my bruised hands took a part of my weight. "I'll see you later, Livingston." By now there would be dishes aplenty for me to wash, a mindless chore that allowed me to think of nothing but Daryan. As I settled into the rhythm of scrubbing, my heart beat out a constant rhythm that whispered Daryan, Daryan.
Livingston had been wrong; I was completely lost already,
Author's Note: So I'm sitting in my dorm room, right? And I'm typing the first part of the chapter (the creepy part) and my roommate waltzes in and she's like, "So whatcha writing?" And I was just like...ummm…"A story." It's not like I'm going to tell her that I'm writing about weird boys who like to go around doing oddly sick things to poor little girls.
It was so awkward.
But anyway, writing camp went well! I learned lots (I think), so my writing should improve, or something to that effect. I'm really glad to be home and sleeping in my own comfy bed! Yay!
Just to warn you, updates might be a little slow throughout the entire month of August. I'll do the best I can, but I've got colleges to visit (my mother's idea, not mine), and summer work to finish. I'll write as often as I can, but I can't promise anything. I'll do my best, and please forgive me if I am slow and responding to your reviews or getting a new chapter up.
I love you all,
EvenSong