Dominic was positively aghast.
"Emma! What do you know of him that convinces you he is the right choice?"
"Your Highness, until this morning, most likely, you did not even know I was called Emma. Furthermore, my father loved me. He would never make a bad decision for me…"
Frederick was smiling his serene smile.
"Emma, my dear, you have made the right choice. Have faith in me to arrange the details of the wedding."
Emma curtsied again and turned to go.
"You will not have dinner?" Frederick asked her sore retreating back.
"Gentlemen, I am ill and tired," she replied, remembering her best court manners. By the age of twelve she had mastered them. Now it was only a matter of recalling them.
After she left the room, Dominic rose from his seat.
"I-I intend to leave tonight."
"As it would please your highness," Frederick answered, not looking at the other man. His attention was on the door through which Emma had left.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Emma saw little of her fiancé in the next month. He was often gone, making some plans or others for their wedding. The only part she was certain of about that was that she was to marry Frederick.
In that time, she recovered, fairly quickly, and was soon preparing the household for a new master. She chose to stay at her father's residence, for the Duchess's house brought terrible memories. She did, however, wish to retrieve her property from the house, namely, the remaining nut. After what Frederick had told her about her mother's dress, she knew that this was not haphazard magic. Something was truly special about this.
On the day she was to return, she saddled Snowflake and left, without so much as an escort. All those years of escaping the eye of the Duchess seemed to have imprinted her with a need to escape detection.
As she rode up to the mansion, she saw that it was in terrible disarray. Most of the servants had abandoned the house, leaving Maria to care for it, for the most part, on her own. Some of the maids had remained, if only to take care of what little remained and keep Maria from going completely mad. Of the men, only Vincent and Henry had stayed, still hoping to learn what had become of Emma.
She was met at the gate by Vincent, who was trying to puzzle out who this fine lady was.
"Vincent!" the fine lady exclaimed, jumping down from the horse and running into his arms. Those arms had comforted her so often in terrible times.
"Wh-Emma?"
"Yes, it's me."
"But… I don't understand."
Emma explained the whole story as they walked through the foyer and to the Servants' Quarters, where her trifles were to be found.
"So, it was your father that she killed?"
"Her husband, yes."
"They have proved this?"
"She herself confessed."
Vincent scoffed.
"What?" Emma suddenly bristled.
"As if a confession is proof. Torture is still used in these parts, you know."
"I highly doubt they would torture a duchess!" she exclaimed. Vincent was silent. Somehow, her recent elevation in society had rendered her slightly less sensitive to the feelings of those below her in rank.
Vincent sighed and looked around the stone hall.
"Do you receive all of this?"
"Technically, yes. It is meant to be compensation for the years of servitude she drove me into."
"The courts decided this?"
"Vincent, you ask too many questions!"
"Could you answer it, please?"
"It was Frederick's idea," she said, after a thoughtful pause. "But I declined it."
"Oh?"
"I am taking only what my father would have endowed her with. All of her original lands and money, I am bequeathing to Maria."
"That is kind of you."
"She deserves something. The fault is not truly hers."
"She plans to leave the city and find a house in the country."
"Yes, her funds are limited."
"I thought you said you were going to return her money?" Vincent cocked his head.
"There was not very much to begin with," Emma sighed. "That is why she married father. For the money."
"And what about this Frederick?" Vincent finally asked.
"Yeah, wha' abou' this Frederick?" a cheerful voice echoed, as Emma turned to see Henry walking towards her.
"Henry!" She ran to meet him and he grinned broadly. Once clean, she was quite pretty, he thought to himself.
"Can I call ye 'Miss' now?"
"Henry, don't be absurd."
"Well, ye never know…"
Emma smiled, cheered to see her good friends after weeks of seeing either strangers or acquaintances from many years ago.
"So, tell us abou' this Frederick," Henry demanded.
"He is my cousin, on my father's side."
"Oh."
"And my fiancé."
"Oh. Ooooh! Emms, I'm so 'appy for ye!"
"I am quite happy," she said with a smile.
"Our Emms don' need no Prince, she 'as-"
"A rat," Vincent growled.
"Vincent, I beg your pardon!" Emma exclaimed.
"He snitched on the Duchess. He bewitched the whole court into believing him, didn't he? Though, he has no money, nor power."
"He was speaking the truth. She killed my father, Vincent!"
Emma could not believe that her dear friend and protector was acting in this way. She took off in the direction of her little hut. She took up the remaining nut and hid it in a pocket, while stowing the rest of the things in a little silk bag she had brought with her. A tear fell from her eye and she angrily dried it; she was no weakling, to cry for the loss of a servant-friend!
"I am going now," she intoned as she left. "Henry, you are welcome to come and serve in my house." A pause. "As are you, Vincent."
She knew they had heard, but they did not respond. Perhaps propriety had caught up with Vincent at last.
Just as Emma came out onto the terrace, Maria was walking in, looking very disheveled and not at all like her usual self.
"Emma?" she asked softly.
"Yes, Maria."
"You have come back for your things, I suppose," she said sullenly.
"I have."
"I thank you for your generosity," she whispered, barely loudly enough for even Emma to hear.
She knew, of course. Her life was a shambles, but the only person who did not truly desert her was the person she had tortured all of her life.
"If I can repay you in any way in the future…"
"Repay me now," Emma said firmly.
Maria raised a startled glance to her stepsister's stony look.
"I am not good and kind, Maria. I did what I felt was right. However, I cannot yet forgive you for the suffering you caused me. Therefore, I ask of you. Leave this place, and return only when you have made yourself anew. I will furnish you with more funds, if need be. I ask only that you do not return until you are no longer the spoiled brat I grew up with!" She finished softly, though her exclamation was poignant.
Maria, who had seen the most terrible aspect of the world in the past few weeks only nodded her head.
"I will need nothing else. Good-bye."
"Good-bye."
Emma watched as she walked slowly back into the house. It was not Maria's fault she was the way she was. But as she had said, she could not forgive quite so quickly. After all, she had only wanted a sister, but instead been saddled with a monster. For all the misery Maria was undergoing now, Emma had undergone exponentially more.
Those were the thoughts she comforted herself with as she rode away from the Duchess's palace, now more hateful to her than ever before.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The day of the wedding soon arrived. It was a lovely March morning, not a cloud in the sky, and Emma was sitting at her boudoir, preparing her toilette.
"Mistress, you will be the most beautiful bride in all England!" Mrs. Williams proclaimed as she draped the dress and the veil around her. The entire castle was filled with people, a few invited by Emma, mostly invited by Frederick. She had not seen her groom in two months, ever since the day after she had made her decision.
She was not nervous; she felt she was doing her duty. Even if she did not truly love Frederick, she could learn to love him. The Prince was a distant memory in her mind. She had seen neither hide nor hair of him since that fateful night.
Emma was happy in many ways. She was finally able to settle down and enjoy that which her father had left for her. She was doing what he wanted before he died. Best of all, she would have a family now. She was confident that Frederick loved her. The times when she had been with him had been intimate and passionate. Despite her consent to marry him, he continued to woo her. Everything was right about this match.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
As the bride descended the stairs, hundreds of eyes turned to stare at her. She was adorned in the finest of everything. Her beauty was exquisite to behold, for she had veritably bloomed in these last few months of joy.
Frederick was smiling his serene smile. She could not fault him. He was a man of limited passion.
The ceremony began and ended. The feast also began and ended. Everything was perfect. Frederick was a wonderful dancer, and he did
not drink in excess. His handsome face glowed with pride every time he beheld his lovely wife. He was courteous to all, and they, in turn, were magnificent guests, many of whom held high titles and great power.
The wedding celebration was over for the night, and the newlyweds retired to their bedchamber. The door was locked for the night, and Emma stepped towards the bed demurely.
Frederick looked at her with a strange, unreadable expression on his face.
"What is it, Freddy?" she asked, again using the childish pet name.
"Life is such a strange medley of joy and sorrow."
"Mostly joy," she replied, her eyes shining.
"Yes, you are right about that. Your father's death was a terrible blow, but now we are married. You are my legally wedded wife and I your husband."
"And Lord," she reminded him. Along with the money, her husband inherited her father's title."
"Yes, and Lord," he replied, with the same strange expression. "Our wedding feast was splendid and you looked glorious. So, with the happiness of our marriage, we shall mingle sorrow, as well."
"What do you mean, Freddy?" she asked, with the faintest tremor in her voice.
"I never thought I should become a husband and a widower within the same day…"
A/N: No comment on this particular chapter. I will leave that to my readers.
Brizo: Very intuitive. Thanks for reviewing and keep reading to learn more!
InChrist: I hope I didn't mislead you too much! And I can't wait to see your inspired story…
LauraShrub: About the squirming, I can only say that a girl like that can only keep men squirming for so long in a story like this. Plus, you will soon see why she would not have kept them waiting for more than a few days, anyway.
ObsessiveCompulsive: Titania::Updates daily: Was that soon enough:-D
Saffie: Emma's father died when she was thirteen and she is sixteen now, so about three years. I agree about the whole parent-matchmaking scheme. But we must remember, Emma is a dutiful daughter and does the right thing. Most of the time. As for the rest, all of your questions will soon be answered!
ScoutcraftPiratess: I was so pleased to see all of your reviews, and so detailed, too! I was actually a big fan of your stories before I got an account on Fanfic (that's why I left only occasional Anonymous reviews). So cool that you should like my story now! And believe me, random passion is not my style at all. Good things take time.
El Boxer: I am so glad! Enjoy!
Much love, I await your reviews anxiously!
-Titania