before the queen. “I found the princess at the carnival eating cotton candy.”
“Look at your face!” Her mother gasped, horrified. She dismissed Reynaldo with a wave. “You may go.”
Annabella raised a hand to her face. It was sticky. Pink goo stuck to her fingers, evidence of her sin.
Her mother grabbed her by the shoulders, marched her to the mirrored wall at the back of the room. “Just look at yourself. You look like a guttersnipe. Ordinary. Common. Cheap.”
The queen snapped her fingers and the servant who had been standing silently beside the velvet curtains at the window sprang forward.
“Bring me a wet cloth,” she commanded.
The servant nodded, slipped away.
Queen Evangeline shook her shoulders. “What is wrong with you? What were you thinking? Going out into the streets alone? You could have been kidnapped! Shame on you for scaring your mother half to death.”
Annabella hadn’t thought about any of that. All she wanted was to go to the carnival. She burst into tears.
“Stop that crying. You stop it right now.” Her mother shook her again, more forcefully this time. “A princess does not cry. Tears are for weak, ordinary people.”
The door opened and Rosalind came in with a wet washcloth. “I am so sorry, Your Highness.” She did not meet Queen Evangeline’s eyes, but kept her head bowed. “The child hid in the backseat of my car. I did not know she was there.”
Her mother snatched the cloth from Rosalind, shot daggers at the nursemaid with her eyes. She squatted before Annabella and scrubbed at her face. “Filthy carnival. Nasty people. You could have gotten a disease, Annabella. You are a princess. You are a . . . Farrington . You are above such shenanigans. You have a duty and an image to uphold. Do not ever do anything like this again or you will be severely punished.”
“Mamman, I just wanted to have fun.”
“Well, you cannot have fun. Not that kind of fun. You are special. You are chosen.” The queen shifted her glare to Rosalind. “This is all your fault.”
“I am dreadfully sorry.” Rosalind worried her hands.
“You are too indulgent with her. You read her those silly, romantic fairy tales. I want it to stop. No more stories about cowboys and knights in shining armor.”
“It is not her fault, Mamman,” Annabella protested. “I sneaked into her car when she was not looking. Rosalind did not know.”
“And how did you get out of your room?” Her mother glowered.
Annabella ducked her head, as sheepish as Rosalind. “I climbed down the oak tree.”
“Reynaldo,” Queen Evangeline called sharply.
The bodyguard appeared in the doorway. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Cut down the tree outside Annabella’s bedroom window.”
“Your Highness, the tree is two hundred years old.”
“Cut it down.”
“It will be done.” Reynaldo bowed and then vanished as quietly as he had shown up.
The queen turned her attention back to Rosalind. “We had an agreement.”
“Yes, mum,” Rosalind mumbled. Standing beside the tall, dark-haired queen, the blond nursemaid looked young, fair, and fragile.
“You violated our agreement.”
“I beg your forgiveness.”
“You know what I can do to you.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Rosalind raised her head and in that moment, boldly met the queen’s stare.
Something dark and silent passed between them, a look that Annabella did not understand. Her mother squeezed Annabella’s shoulder tight, drew her up against her body. Her hands trembled. The queen was trembling. She was afraid of Rosalind?
The stare-down lasted a long minute more, then the queen cleared her throat, tossed her majestic head, and glanced down her nose at the nursemaid. “You are dismissed.”
Rosalind notched her own head up, stuck her chin in the air. “For tonight?” She clenched a fist. “Or forever?”
Queen Evangeline licked her lips, hesitated, and then said firmly, “For tonight. But in future we will have no more of these
“Look at your face!” Her mother gasped, horrified. She dismissed Reynaldo with a wave. “You may go.”
Annabella raised a hand to her face. It was sticky. Pink goo stuck to her fingers, evidence of her sin.
Her mother grabbed her by the shoulders, marched her to the mirrored wall at the back of the room. “Just look at yourself. You look like a guttersnipe. Ordinary. Common. Cheap.”
The queen snapped her fingers and the servant who had been standing silently beside the velvet curtains at the window sprang forward.
“Bring me a wet cloth,” she commanded.
The servant nodded, slipped away.
Queen Evangeline shook her shoulders. “What is wrong with you? What were you thinking? Going out into the streets alone? You could have been kidnapped! Shame on you for scaring your mother half to death.”
Annabella hadn’t thought about any of that. All she wanted was to go to the carnival. She burst into tears.
“Stop that crying. You stop it right now.” Her mother shook her again, more forcefully this time. “A princess does not cry. Tears are for weak, ordinary people.”
The door opened and Rosalind came in with a wet washcloth. “I am so sorry, Your Highness.” She did not meet Queen Evangeline’s eyes, but kept her head bowed. “The child hid in the backseat of my car. I did not know she was there.”
Her mother snatched the cloth from Rosalind, shot daggers at the nursemaid with her eyes. She squatted before Annabella and scrubbed at her face. “Filthy carnival. Nasty people. You could have gotten a disease, Annabella. You are a princess. You are a . . . Farrington . You are above such shenanigans. You have a duty and an image to uphold. Do not ever do anything like this again or you will be severely punished.”
“Mamman, I just wanted to have fun.”
“Well, you cannot have fun. Not that kind of fun. You are special. You are chosen.” The queen shifted her glare to Rosalind. “This is all your fault.”
“I am dreadfully sorry.” Rosalind worried her hands.
“You are too indulgent with her. You read her those silly, romantic fairy tales. I want it to stop. No more stories about cowboys and knights in shining armor.”
“It is not her fault, Mamman,” Annabella protested. “I sneaked into her car when she was not looking. Rosalind did not know.”
“And how did you get out of your room?” Her mother glowered.
Annabella ducked her head, as sheepish as Rosalind. “I climbed down the oak tree.”
“Reynaldo,” Queen Evangeline called sharply.
The bodyguard appeared in the doorway. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Cut down the tree outside Annabella’s bedroom window.”
“Your Highness, the tree is two hundred years old.”
“Cut it down.”
“It will be done.” Reynaldo bowed and then vanished as quietly as he had shown up.
The queen turned her attention back to Rosalind. “We had an agreement.”
“Yes, mum,” Rosalind mumbled. Standing beside the tall, dark-haired queen, the blond nursemaid looked young, fair, and fragile.
“You violated our agreement.”
“I beg your forgiveness.”
“You know what I can do to you.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Rosalind raised her head and in that moment, boldly met the queen’s stare.
Something dark and silent passed between them, a look that Annabella did not understand. Her mother squeezed Annabella’s shoulder tight, drew her up against her body. Her hands trembled. The queen was trembling. She was afraid of Rosalind?
The stare-down lasted a long minute more, then the queen cleared her throat, tossed her majestic head, and glanced down her nose at the nursemaid. “You are dismissed.”
Rosalind notched her own head up, stuck her chin in the air. “For tonight?” She clenched a fist. “Or forever?”
Queen Evangeline licked her lips, hesitated, and then said firmly, “For tonight. But in future we will have no more of these
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