Chapter 61: A Puppet On A String
Rose did eat dinner. It was a little bland, but that might have been more her fault than the cooks’. She hadn’t done anything all day, but she was somehow more exhausted than ever. It wasn’t a surprise; her thoughts had the whole day to run around her mind, and that was enough to weaken anyone.
The maids came to help her get ready for the prince. She should be used to this routine by now, but she wasn’t. Edna noticed her mood and didn’t speak. The silence was even more awkward.
The other girls just scrubbed her down, washed her hair, and applied oils. Rose thought her hair looked even more lush now, and even her skin did too. Considering she was soaked in oils every day, that wasn’t too much of a surprise.
Martha, however, stood in the corner and just watched, yapping the whole time. Rose tried to listen to what she was talking about but gave up. At first, it was about how Rose should be grateful she had people like her cleaning her up and dressing her up, as it was the only way she found favor with the crown prince. Then she talked about how the crown prince would soon discard her like a piece of rag.
Rose thought the latter was actually more appealing than the rest of whatever she said. It was taking too long for the crown prince to be done with her. Was it because she was still resisting? Was that what he found interesting about her? Then if she gave in like he wanted, would he let her go?
It wasn’t something that she couldn’t try. She was tired of being humiliated. She was tired of the Royal Castle, tired of the rules they had here, tired of the people. Even though she was among servants who were supposed to be on the same level as her, she still felt very odd around them, and they had no hesitation when it came to treating her so badly.
Her pride wasn’t important anymore; it never mattered, and at this point, Ander must have known what was going on. She didn’t think she could return to him in the state that she was. Rose shook her head, almost whipping the lady brushing it.
"Sorry," she quickly said.
The maid glared at her but didn’t say a word, just got back to brushing.
Ander wouldn’t care about something like that. He loved her, and she loved him. They had loved each other for so long. She trusted him, and she knew he trusted her too.