A Dove's Tale

Chapter 19

There were bruises on my wrists and shoulders the next morning, plus the scratches on my chest. The marks on my shoulders and chest wouldn't be too hard to hide, but the ones on my wrists would be tricky. This time of year, all the maids wore short-sleeved uniforms. I would have to wear a long-sleeved uniform and hope it wasn't too conspicuous. And I would have to be careful not to roll my sleeves up when I was cleaning.

Mother was too ill to pay close attention to me before I left. I made it out the door without her noticing a problem. That bothered me, but I couldn't think about it, especially not when I was walking to the palace. I took a detour around the red-light district and kept my eyes peeled for him, although I knew he'd be too busy sleeping off a hangover to bother with me. It was still a massive relief when the city fell away behind me. My next challenge was the other servants at the palace. I needed to change and slip my torn uniform into the laundry without being seen.

And then there was Prince Chevalier.

He would know something was wrong, no matter how well I hid it. I had to come up with believable excuses to keep him off my back. If he knew the truth, he'd probably just laugh and mock me for being a foolish little dove who flew into a trap. And he would be right. I should have been paying closer attention.

I changed and disposed of the torn uniform with no problems, ordered his breakfast, and went to his room to clean. At nine o'clock, I greeted him and threw open his drapes. I thought I had a fairly good chance of getting away without telling him anything as long as I followed the normal routine.

"You're not humming," he mumbled from somewhere under the sheets.

I didn't think about that.

"My throat's a little sore this morning, Prince Chevalier," I said dismissively, hoping that would satisfy him. I wasn't in the mood to talk today anyway, so the sore throat story would work well in that respect, too.

He didn't reply, and he didn't ask any further questions, but I felt his eyes on me as I worked. It was discomforting. He knew something was wrong. I reminded myself to stay calm, to think clearly, not to volunteer anything, not to even think about what happened.

The thoughts came unbidden, though, crowding at the edges of my mind, suffocating me. I would have to take the detour again this evening. Probably forever, actually. I couldn't risk running into him. But what if he came to my house?

No. I couldn't think about that right now. I had to focus and keep my composure.

"Roll up your sleeves."

"Prince Chevalier?" I asked, startled.

He'd finished breakfast, but instead of leaving as he usually did, he'd walked up to me without my noticing.

"You heard me."

His icy blue eyes penetrated straight through me, and I realized with a sinking feeling that there was no way out of this. I couldn't very well refuse such a simple order. I dropped my gaze to my hands and reluctantly complied, trying to think of how to explain the bruises. He took my hands in his and examined my wrists while my heart started pounding all over again. I needed to think of an excuse, something plausible, but nothing would come to me.

"Are there more?"

I hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"Show me."

"I don't-"

"Show me."

I felt like a child, but there was no use arguing with him. I pulled my collar to the side, exposing one shoulder for just a second. His black gloves caught the fabric as I released it, pulling it back again as he inspected the bruises. This was humiliating.