Chapter 4

C.C. still couldn't quite get over the overwhelming despair she'd felt the previous evening. It almost felt like a bad dream – hurrying along the corridors to her room, planning on getting everything packed before Queen Marie arrived to make sure she was out of the palace as soon as possible. She'd been certain that, after having talked in such an impertinent manner to Prince Niles (or Prince Arsehole, as she'd taken to calling him in private) in front of Her Majesty, she'd be back on the street before she could so much as make a sound. So, she'd thought it best to be prepared and not keep anybody waiting in her disgraceful departure.

She'd been convinced it was for the best. At least, she'd told herself several times that it was for the best – how else was she to stop herself simply bursting into fresh tears right there on the way? She'd had too much to do, and too little time. And it had only slowed her down when she'd quickly bandaged her hand up with a cloth to stop it from bleeding over her things before she'd gotten back to her room and had started putting her things away.

There hadn't even been five things safely tucked away into her bag when Queen Marie herself had arrived, accompanied by one of the royal physician's assistants. Barely a word was spoken between the women as the man asked to take a look at her cut, and he had cleaned and bandaged it properly without speaking more than he had to. As soon as he was done, Marie had dismissed him, too. That hadn't made C.C. feel any more confident about what was to come. The dread had simply piled on her like rocks falling from a cliff. It hadn't helped that Marie hadn't changed her expression at all in the time that she'd been there – C.C. hadn't been able to read it, like she might read a book and determine the ending. Or, even if nothing else, what was to happen on the next page.

She'd felt that had to have been it. That Marie had been about to kick her out, then and there, with words about how the bandaging had been the last of her kindness and she wouldn't be receiving any more. Not for what she'd just done.

C.C. remembered keeping her eyes on her bedsheets, having been sat there on the mattress, partially wondering about where she might end up sleeping that night. It had seemed safer than looking up at Marie and focusing on the moment the axe would finally fall.

She'd never forget what actually happened next, when a soft, warm hand had cupped her cheek and Marie had spoken.

"Oh, ma chérie, I am so sorry...! I can only apologise most profusely, after all zhat you 'ave been zhrough!"

C.C. didn't think her head had ever snapped up quite so violently. She'd been certain that she couldn't have heard the queen correctly – how could she, if she'd been about to dismiss her? She'd tried to relay this to Marie as well, who'd dismissed the notion, and had explained with a shudder that Prince Niles was turning into his father. It'd clearly pained Marie to admit it, but she'd expressed her regret and remorse at the idea of there being nothing she could do about the problem, most of the time. Her son was a boor, and she feared he always would be. But in her mind, C.C. had not deserved to go through the terrifying, humiliating ordeal that she had. To her, the maid had had nothing to be sorry for, even if others might say that she should've been down on her knees and begging for forgiveness for insulting a prince.

Marie had also insisted on hearing no more about it. Besides, the Queen had come bearing better news, in amongst her apologies. She had found herself in need of a new lady-in-waiting, and considering what had just happened, Marie had felt C.C. was the perfect person for the job. If she wanted the opportunity, of course.

C.C. had been momentarily stunned and bewildered before the happiness had overtaken that – she almost hadn't been able to believe it. Only seconds ago, she'd feared she'd be out on the streets and begging for her next meal, but Marie had changed that completely! She'd just offered her a better life – still a life in service, but one that C.C. could gladly get along with. It meant more money, more freedom, and probably fewer humiliating tasks that nobody else wanted to do, or would be pushed to do. And it almost certainly meant never having to deal with that pig of a prince alone ever again.

Needless to say, she'd immediately accepted the new position and had thanked her mistress for her kindness. Marie had brushed it off as nothing, simply stating that it was her pleasure to have such a kind and smart woman such as her around. To C.C., however, it had meant a great deal. This was a step upwards, out of the life she'd always feared she'd have. She wasn't to be a humble maid for the rest of her life; she could make herself useful to Marie and not worry about being left in the dirt or given the worst of the work. Those days looked like they were over now.

Another good thing about being a lady in waiting was that, unlike Prudence, the Queen was known to be a kind and generous employer. She treated her staff well, allowed her ladies to sit and eat with her (in order to have some company) and she gave them thoughtful gifts from time to time. C.C. had already benefited from Marie's generosity, too – the Queen had ordered a number of new and prettier dresses for C.C. to use around the palace when she was serving her. Queen Marie had promised that, in a week or two, she'd have a new wardrobe that agreed with her new position, but until then, Marie had borrowed C.C. a few of her old dresses.

C.C. hadn't felt deserving of such special treatment (and still didn't, if she was honest). After all, she still had perfectly good clothes that would more than suffice. It wasn't as though she'd grown out of them! But Marie had been insistent, and she hadn't wanted to hear a word of her polite attempts at refusal, no matter how gently put. Instead, she'd ushered her along like a mother would've done to her children and had made her go and get changed into a new set of the clothes that she still had. The queen had needed to take the time to show C.C. something, and it had involved a little walk away from the servants' quarters.

That had made C.C. curious. She hadn't been able to imagine what Marie could possibly want to show her, after she'd just given her everything she could have ever wanted!

The last thing she'd ever thought she'd be shown – after quite a long walk away from the servants' quarters, actually – was a set of utterly gorgeous rooms, decorated and furnished with all the comforts that a noble could expect in a place where they were being welcomed as an honoured guest. She hadn't been able to understand why they'd gone there. After all, no one used those rooms (they'd need more regular cleaning if so). She'd asked the Queen why they were there – was there someone they were supposed to meet? Some guest C.C. hadn't met before, perhaps?

With an amused chuckle, Marie had told her no. The rooms weren't for anyone but a lady-in-waiting. Her newest one, to be precise.

The moment the penny had dropped, C.C. thought she could've cried. Not from sadness, as the entire day had seemed to be wrought with so far, but with a kind of awestruck delight she hadn't experienced in years. It had been...it was...more than she'd ever thought she'd ever have again. These were rooms fit for a lady – something she barely thought of herself as anymore. But she'd been given them as though she'd never left that life at all!

She had security, comfort, and a home for the foreseeable future. It might not have been her family home, or quite as beautiful as the things she still missed and remembered in her mind and in her heart, but she couldn't have asked for better. Marie had truly given her everything she could want, and she'd made her feel like a human being again when she'd felt so close to even losing that.

The Queen had stayed with her for a while after she'd finished exploring her new space, making small talk about what C.C.'s new duties would be, as well as about their shared interests. Dinnertime had come faster than either woman realised, and Marie had then ordered one of the other servants to bring C.C.'s meal to her room. The new lady-in-waiting had wanted to refuse – she'd felt perfectly capable of joining the rest of the servants at dinner – but once again Marie simply wouldn't have it. The Queen had been intent on C.C. getting some rest so her hand could heal properly, and she'd even given her newest lady-in-waiting a couple of days off to make sure that happened.

And she was making use of the first of those days that very instant. It couldn't have come at a more fortunate timing – or unfortunate, as it were. Three months had passed since her beloved little sister had been taken from the world, and while it wasn't possible to visit D.D.'s resting place (given that it was in the family crypt, in land her cousin now held to ransom), she could go and visit the churchyard where her parents had been laid to rest. It would soon be three months since they had left the world too, and C.C. did miss them so...

She'd happily take advantage of her new position as a lady-in-waiting to the queen to go and see them.

And in the present moment, as she walked the exhausting-yet-exhilarating path to the cemetery, C.C. was actually rather glad that Marie had been so insistent that she have a day or two to herself. She didn't truly remember the last time she'd slept so deeply, or so well and for so long! Her tiredness hadn't gone unnoticed in the queen's eyes, even if she hadn't really realised it herself. It almost made her wonder how long she would've gone without stopping, and needing to take a break of some kind.

Almost. The rest of her was too busy enjoying her granted day off to really think about what she might have done. The way out to her planned destination was now overcast, when it had been sunny when she'd first left; white and grey clouds gathered in the sky and a cool breeze brushed her back. It actually felt like the weather might change entirely soon, and there would be a downpour, but she was doing her best to enjoy the open air while she could. It wasn't often she was out in any weather, after all, and she wanted to make the most of her time. She clutched the pretty bouquet she'd gotten for her parents as she walked, not willing to let go and trying her best to ensure that not even a single petal fell from the flowers along the way.

It was peaceful. Just what she needed after the busyness of her ordinary working days. And really, it was only right that the quietness lasted; it was more respectful, towards where she was going. The closest graveyard outside of the city walls.

In another show of contempt and disregard for her family, her cousin had refused to allow her parents' bodies to be buried in the family vault. Instead, she and Noel had had to bury them in a small churchyard just outside of town. That was all they'd been able to afford, and even then Noel had had to pay a small fortune for them to take the bodies. The priest had been hesitant to take plague victims – the fear was still so great, he was probably thinking of turning out the siblings, just for having associated with a someone who'd succumbed to the disease!

But Noel and C.C. had remained firm, and simply upped the price. They hadn't stopped until they got the small funeral they'd settled on, and had decided to be accepting of, rather than just letting Stewart and B.B.'s bodies be carted away to a huge pit somewhere else entirely...

It was a slap in the face, but what else could they do?

They had wanted to keep Stewart and B.B. with them, not have him lost to the anonymity of a mass grave.

She could already see her father and mother's joint grave as she approached the churchyard – the lone headstone under the willow tree. It was a heartbreaking sight, and while C.C. hoped the pain would someday get better, she wasn't hopeful for it happening anytime soon. She struggled to keep the tears from simply pouring out as she covered the rest of the way and was finally able to gently deposit the bouquet on top of the headstone.

"Hello Father, Mother…" she muttered. "It's been...far too long, and so much has happened!"

She was sure that he and her mother would have seen – they'd be watching from Heaven. But she wanted them to hear it from her as well. She wanted them to hear about all her days. She wanted them to know what was going on in her life, and to feel their support. She wanted them back, most of all, to make the world make sense again. She wanted to be holding them in a tight embrace, from her own bed in their own home.

She didn't want them underneath her feet, cold and unreachable.

But it was all she had. And she'd rather have that than absolutely nothing.

"I took a job at the castle," she remarked.

Of course, that got her no reply, but she left a small silent instant as though there had been one anyway. She knew what her parents were like, so she had more than a good idea of what they'd say if they were there.

"Noel did a wonderful job helping me. I'm already saving money, and things could be looking up..."

Despite her best efforts, the tears were cascading down her cheeks. She tried to blink them away, but it didn't help make her vision any less blurry or her heart ache any less.

It simply wasn't fair! What had she done to deserve her whole family being taken away? What had she done to deserve losing everything she'd ever had…? She'd always tried to be a good person, she'd helped others whenever she could… and yet…

Here she was.

"I miss you and D.D. so very much…" she wept, kneeling in front of her parents grave. "It's felt so long, since I've had anybody on my side...I know Noel is there, but he's...well, he's got his wife and family to think of first. He can't just drop everything and come running whenever I need him! It wouldn't be fair. But that doesn't mean it's not...lonely. Being here, all by myself..."

The maid turned lady-in-waiting trailed off, too overwhelmed by her situation to go on.

If she hadn't been so preoccupied, or so caught up in the heartbreak that threatened to tear her in two, she might have heard hooves and wheels approaching and halting out on the road. But she could only think right then of her beloved parents, her sister, and the fact that she was alone in the world without them.

So, completely unbeknownst to her, Niles sat a short distance away in his carriage. His lips were pursed and the corners of his mouth had tipped downwards as he watched the sad scene play out in front of him – Lady Babcock, as alone as anyone could be in the world, coming to "talk" to two people she'd never hear from again. She probably wished more than anything that she still had them with her. So much would be different right now if that had been the case! She'd still be considered a reputable, highborn lady, living in a home of her own, surrounded again by a loving family who would never have wanted to see her like this…

They especially wouldn't have wanted to see her suffer through the disastrous events of the day before. He'd been looking for her practically since then, too, with some not-at-all-gentle pushing in the form of his mother's stone-cold silence towards him. That still hadn't finished, either, and he didn't see it ending just because he'd gone to do this.

He'd been told that Lady Babcock had the day off by one of the maids, when he'd eventually had to ask for her whereabouts. She'd apparently planned to spend that time visiting the graves of her parents. So, he'd taken the carriage out. The servant who'd told him where to find her had also told him which graveyard he'd find her in, so he'd prepared to leave immediately. The journey hadn't taken much longer, and he'd arrived there a few minutes after she had. He'd even seen her in the distance from the carriage window, walking solemnly along the road by herself, but he hadn't asked the driver to speed up. Somehow, it hadn't seemed right or appropriate to actually and physically chase a woman. Especially not to where she was going…

He flexed his fingers, his hands lightly clutching the bouquet he'd brought from the palace. He'd had the gardeners pick out a variety of the finest flowers they had growing to put it together, and he didn't think he'd ever seen a selection more colourful or perfect. He hoped it made for at least a decent apology, and perhaps a…was a "nice marker" for her parents' graves the right term? He doubted it. Nonetheless, that was what they were for. If Lady Babcock accepted them, of course. He had no way of knowing right now if she even would! Considering everything he'd done, he could more clearly see his gift thrown down onto the ground in disgust, just before she stormed away.

And, again, she would have every right to do that. But it still didn't give him an excuse to turn around and walk away. She deserved to know how sorry he was, and he hadn't wanted to let a thing like her being as angry or as wary of him as she was stop him from attempting to tell her.

Out of respect for the mourning she was going through, he gave her another couple of moments by herself before calling on his footman to open the door for him. The graveyard wasn't large, by any stretch of the imagination, and he could hear her murmuring words to the stone which marked the spot where her parents lay even before he'd made it all of the way down the carriage steps and across the path to wear she was knelt, her back to the road.

Once he was within a reasonable proximity (yet maintaining what he felt was a respectful distance), he spoke aloud to gain her attention.

"My deepest condolences, Lady Babcock."

Gasping sharply and starting with his words, she leapt up from her knees and whirled around to face him, eyes wide and breathing wildly. She immediately stumbled a step backwards when she saw it was him, and her face – which had been bright with alarm – sank and set like concrete.

"Your…Your Royal Highness…" she said, calming her breathing slowly. Though whether she did that to stop herself from puffing and wheezing, or to stop herself from snapping at him, he wasn't sure. "What…to what does this humble little churchyard owe the pleasure?

Never had the phrase "humble little churchyard" been uttered with so much cold, dripping venom, and suddenly Niles knew the answer to the question he'd been trying to work out before – she was definitely stopping herself from snapping at him. Or from screaming. She might have considered screaming at him, if they he wasn't who he was, and they weren't where they were…

Being the Prince of Wales definitely had its privileges, but not being torn apart in public by a servant was one he'd never imagined before.

He'd been so certain of what he'd been about to say before she'd gotten up and turned around, too. But now the moment had come and she'd subtly bared her teeth at him, and every word he'd planned with himself on the journey there had fallen out of his head! His mind was blank. He knew what he had to do still, but the words just weren't flowing like they usually would…

"I…I, um…I said I bring my condolences. A-And an apology. For…well, everything," he fumbled around with the words like a fool with juggling balls. Then he remembered. "And flowers!"

He thrust out his hand, showing her the bouquet.

"I also…I also got you flowers. I thought they might look good. On your, um…parents' grave…"

The words were out and free in the open air before he could shut his mouth and stop himself.

Why had the hell he said that? He should've focused on his apology, like a normal person! 'I thought they'd look good on your parents' grave'? Who said that kind of thing, to anybody, let alone to someone mourning at said grave?! How had he become so stupid in such a short space of time?!

Lady Babcock was probably wondering the same thing, and he didn't blame her. She cast her eyes over him, then over the flowers, then they dragged themselves back to him with the reluctance of one who had found themselves in conversation with the last person they'd ever willingly talk to on Earth.

"I hear His Royal Highness' apology," she said. No frills, no acceptance. "But I must inform him that I have already bought fresh flowers for the…occasion. Now I must…politely…request that I be left alone with my parents. Or what I have left of them, anyway."

Niles' stomach dropped like a stone, taking his (perhaps overly) hopeful expression along with it like they were tied together with string. She really and truly didn't want him there, did she? She couldn't have put it more plainly or succinctly. And she hadn't…hadn't at all accepted his apology!

Niles didn't know whether he wanted to demand that she did, or crawl away ashamed that he hadn't been able to make her accept, even after he'd actually tried. It had never happened to him before. Not once. Everyone had always accepted his apologies before – he was the Prince of Wales, how could they not?

How could Lady Babcock not, now that he thought about it? They were in a public place, on consecrated ground, and she had been polite to him up until now! Why couldn't she go that one extra step in the way of social niceties and accept it? Even if just so they could put the whole thing behind them?

Perhaps she just needed a little more convincing?

"Lady Babcock, I insist—"

"There is nothing to insist on, Your Royal Highness," she cut over him louder than before, but clearly still keeping her wrath on a leash. "So, please, accept that this is a…a difficult time. And this is no place to be having an argument that I am restraining myself from escalating. I do not wish to say something not fit for the grounds of a church, so I beg you to leave things as they are."

The prince didn't like that "advice" at all. No one had ever told him what the right, polite thing to do was – especially not after they'd just rejected his perfectly sincere attempt at an apology! Surely that had to be the greater social taboo?!

He tried again, "But I really must—"

"I mean it, my lord!" Lady Babcock barked, before apparently reminding herself where she was and bringing it back under control. "I…this is not the place nor the time. I'm sure you understand that."

Niles found himself taking a step backwards, caught in between astonishment and anger. She really wasn't going to talk to him at all, was she? She was too hurt, and lashing out about it like a wild animal!

But he didn't at all understand why. There wasn't anything he'd ever done or said that couldn't be talked through – it hadn't ever mattered what it was! Why wasn't this the same? Why were his apologies apparently not good enough for her when they were good enough for people of twice as much note and standing in society? Everything could be so easily smoothed over if she'd just give him the chance…

But perhaps it was best not to insist anymore, for the time being. If she wasn't going to give him the chance while he was there, he didn't want to force it; not in the grounds of a church, and not when she was very obviously mourning her parents. He'd give her some more time to think and reconsider.

So, he nodded instead.

"I certainly do, Lady Babcock. And I'll do as you wish," he said. "I'll return to the palace now – hopefully we can finish this conversation at another time."

"It's as complete as I wish it to be, Your Royal Highness, so I'd rather we didn't."

That did nothing for the prince's mood. Honestly, if anything, it left him feeling more insulted than ever.

But he knew it was just the lashing out speaking – the hurt and the anger. She just needed some time, and to be somewhere else. They could almost definitely get this whole thing put behind them with ease, as soon as she came around.

"I will take my leave now," he told her instead, the end of it interrupted by a low rumble in the distance.

Niles glanced up at the sky. The clouds seemed bleaker than ever. A storm was definitely on its way. Probably minutes away, if the telltale roll of thunder was anything to go by.

"I will also send a carriage to pick you up," he added.

Lady Babcock's face was stone, "With all due respect, sir, I would rather walk."

It sounded very much like "all due respect" in her case meant none whatsoever. Not that Niles would let that dissuade him.

"My lady, please allow me to—"

"You have already done more than enough, sir," she replied loudly. "Walking will not harm me, I can assure you."

Niles' brow furrowed. He didn't like how much she was not letting him do for her, especially when it could only be to her benefit. And he didn't want the conversation to be over, even if she did. She might've been angry for the time being, but did that really have to mean that they would never speak again?

He didn't think that had to be the case. But he also didn't want to be rained upon, so a tactful retreat would probably benefit him twice over; he'd be giving Lady Babcock a chance to calm down and think on what he'd said, and he'd stay dry.

"Very well then, Lady Babcock. Farewell for now and try not to catch cold on your way back."

With that said, he turned, taking the bouquet he'd had made especially for her with him, and walked back to his carriage.