"Ah, if it isn't my tardy son!" the King exclaimed, as Dominic strolled into the throne room, trailing mud, leaves, and snow.
"Sire," Dominic replied, mockingly bowing in his direction, without meeting his eyes. "I was told you wished to speak with me."
"Yes, boy. I wish to continue a subject begun by your mother," he answered. Dominic shuddered slightly and turned his head away.
"The Lady Theresa?" he muttered wearily.
"Nonsense!" the King boomed. "As if I would take such a pretentious monster into my home. No, not Theresa, but a similar venue of thought, certainly."
"Marriage?" Dominic practically wailed.
"Yes, boy, marriage. I will see you wed before the month ends, mark my words."
"I have no woman who will call me husband."
"Every woman in the kingdom wishes to look upon and look after the mysterious prince of the realm," the King said, inspecting his fingernails.
Dominic was not appreciating the direction this conversation was taking. Visions of be-jeweled and velvet-swathed women swam in his head, and he attempted to steady himself by grabbing at a column.
"Come, come, Dominic! It needn't be so bad!" the King smirked. "Now we may come to the crux of the matter. I will be holding a ball in your honour tomorrow night. You will be introduced to all the eligible ladies in this land and those of other countries. Quite a selection, so I should hope you will make a good choice."
"Father, all women are mad creatures, and any who would come to this ball are pretentious and power-hungry, as well!" he replied, almost nervously.
"I see. Well, that will reveal itself tomorrow. I daresay if you dislike it that much, I will give you full permission to make yourself scarce," the King said, with a smirk.
"I thank you, Father."
The interview was over. Now the preparations and the waiting were to begin. As Dominic ascended the stairs to his apartments, he felt dizzy with the premature sensations of ladies' perfumes.
"As if a woman might ever interest me!" he exclaimed to himself.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"I am free to go?" Emma replied, yet again.
"Did I not just say that?" the Duchess growled.
"I… May I consider this?"
"If you are to be indecisive, I will make up your mind for you and throw you into the streets this very instant," the Duchess proclaimed, exasperated.
"I only wish to consider my options, My Lady."
"Consider quickly."
Emma thought about this last part. Something was pushing the Duchess to get rid of her quickly. Something was very wrong, else the cruel woman would never wish to relent her grip on her.
"I will stay, My Lady," Emma finally whispered, with a mild quaver in her voice.
"I see…"
This news did not seem at all pleasant to the Duchess. Just as she was about to open her mouth, a figure in frills and frou-frou burst through the door and pranced into their midst.
"Maria!" the Duchess called to the waltzing figure.
"Oh, Mother, but he is so handsome!" Maria declared.
Emma knew just who he was, and, despite her firmest wishes, could not help agreeing.
"Emma!"
Maria turned towards her and began to walk in her direction.
"Emma, I am going to a ball tomorrow night!" Maria giggled, just as the Duchess whispered, "Hist!"
"Yes, I am," Maria continued. "Just look at this invitation!" She held out the gilded parchment to Emma, who read, quite clearly,
The Ladies of the House de Winter Are Cordially Invited to Attend A Ball in Honour of His Highness, the Prince Dominic and Heir Apparent
"But I am also a lady of the house de Winter," Emma began.
"What sort of lady are you?" Maria screeched, immediately. "You run about with your rags and your soot, befriending every filthy creature on earth, for decent people know well enough to keep away from you."
"That is enough, Maria."
The insults would have continued, but for this interruption. Emma wondered why the Duchess had intervened, for she always seemed to take great pleasure in the insults doled out by Maria to the lowly girl.
"Emma, do you truly wish to attend this ball?" the Duchess queried.
"Oh, I should like that very much," she half-murmured in reply. Before the words were out of her mouth, she knew she should not have said it.
"Perhaps that can be arranged. Ah!" she spoke to silence Maria's protests. "Bring me two baskets from the kitchen, Emma."
Her voice was laced with honey and Emma sensed the threat, but it was too late to go back on her words now.
"Baskets?"
"Yes, girl. Fill one to the brim with corn seed, the other with dry peas."
When Emma returned, the Duchess took both baskets in hand and spilled first one, then the other onto the floor. As she mixed the seeds with her foot, she glared at Emma and spoke scathingly.
"I want these sorted back into the two baskets by dawn. If I find a single grain out of place you will be given five lashes. Clearly, your everyday chores do not occupy you fully enough."
Emma stared in disbelief at the pile on the floor. This would take days to do, even if she did not have to do her other chores.
"What now?" she thought as she gathered the grains into the basket, in order to take them to her little closet of a room. "What now?"
A/N: Whoo! Another chapter! I really like this, even though it is transition, if only for the things it starts to reveal. I am so pleased to read your lovely reviews and very grateful to those who have offered their excellent criticism. I have tried to work on character development. Hopefully, there is more than just plot here! I will work on the next chapter immediately and, coming up, the last part of the riddle!
-Titania