First at Last (Updated Version)

Chapter Twenty-Two

That despicable woman! I could not believe she would ask such a thing of me. Especially after revealing her own past. She picked the perfect punishment for me. I hated public speaking. Even speaking with a single person made me nervous, so an entire room. And about the marriage between my sister and the man I was in love with.

I tried to take a sip of tea to calm my nerves, but my hands shook so much that the liquid sloshed over the rim of the cup. After sitting there for so long, it was cold, anyway. With a frustrated sigh, I set the cup back down on its saucer.

After another long minute, I pushed away from the table and left the room, leaving behind my breakfast, still untouched on its tray.

#

I hesitated before Alice's door some time later. I had waited until I was certain Mother would not be with her before going to her room, but I was losing my nerve. I didn't want to interrupt her if she was busy. She could have quite the temper when she was inconvenienced, and, frankly, I was not sure I could handle being yelled at again today.

Finally, I worked up the courage and I knocked softly on her door. It was quiet for a long moment, followed by a muffled, "Enter."

I pushed open the door and stepped into her room. She sat in a chair before the fireplace, though there was no fire in it. Instead, her balcony doors were open to let in the warm spring breeze. She appeared to be stitching a pattern. It looked to be roses, though I was far enough away, I could not tell for certain.

"Erika," she said, sounding mildly surprised. "Do you need something?"

I stepped into her room and shut the door softly behind me. "Erm," I began awkwardly. "I wanted to thank you for stepping in earlier. And, well, stopping Mother from hitting me."

Alice glanced up at me before returning to her needlework, her mouth quirking into a slight smile. "Think nothing of it. I'm sure you would have done the same."

"Yes, of course," I replied.

She glanced back up at me and made an impatient sound. "Honestly, Erika, quit hovering in the doorway like a ghost. Come over here and talk to me. I will not bite."

I grimaced and stepped toward her. "I'm not quite convinced of that right now."

She paused her stitching and turned to face me in full. "Well, when someone stands awkwardly in the doorway like that, I find it very annoying. Though, you are the only person I know that does that, so it might just be a trait I associate with you, which is why I find it annoying."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I did not come in here so that I could be berated by you."

"Whatever you came in here for, you should have known it would be accompanied by a small amount of berating. That is just how I do things. Now, what did you need?"

I hesitated before continuing. "You walked in at such a perfect moment earlier today. Were you listening in?"

Alice's hand faltered, only slightly, barely enough to be noticed. "I was, actually, yes. Though, what I heard did not really surprise me. I've always had feeling, but it was simply confirmed today."

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

"It's all right. I think it is the only way I ever would have found out. Mother probably never would have told me all of that. To find out I am the daughter of a common worker." She wrinkled her nose as though she smelled unpleasant. "How distasteful."

"It is not so bad as that, Alice," I said slowly. "Mother said he was very kind and beautiful. You're—beautiful," I winced, wishing I had phrased that better.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Thank you for that," she said dryly.

"Sorry," I said quickly. "I did not mean for it to sound like that. It was supposed to be a compliment."

"It does not matter. You are not wrong." She made another row of stitches before she continued her thought. "It must have been difficult for you, though. To hear Mother confirm that she loved me more."

I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat. "Similar to what you said, it was not a surprise. Though, it did hurt to hear. To know that I could spend the rest of my life trying to please her and earn her love, but I never would be able to because I'm not you."

Alice snorted, which surprised me. It did not seem like the kind of sound she would ever make. "You should count yourself lucky, I think. Mother did not show me her love by being kind to me. She showed it to me by punishing me for the slightest mistake, ridiculing me for the smallest misstep. I was right, earlier today. My gown was not fitting correctly. But that was because it was too tight. Instead of sending it to the tailor to be let out like a mother should, she told me I was not to eat anything until the ball this coming week."

"Oh, Alice," I breathed. "That's horrible."

She shook her head. "It isn't, really. She's always been like this. This will not be the first time she's told me to fast. It is just the way it is."

I nodded, though I could not believe Mother would do that. I resolved to find times to bring food to Alice every day so she would not have to starve. "Do you think you will tell Mother about Poppy?" I asked.

She laughed outright this time. "Oh, no, absolutely not. I am not quite ready to die, I don't think."

"So, you think you will still marry William?"

"We've been over this, Erika. I don't have a choice. Mother would never allow for anything else."

I tried to tamp down on my frustration, but I was not entirely successful. "She will never be happy, you know that. So why shouldn't you try to be happy at least a little?"

Alice's grip tightened on her pattern. "Erika, you don't understand. You might be able to say what you did to Mother and I applaud you for it. But I cannot do that. I cannot hurt her that way. After everything she's done for me."

"Like refuse you food so that you can fit into your gown?"

She glared at me. "Did you need something else or are you just hear to judge what you do not understand?"

"I just want to help you."

"No, you don't," she snapped, dropping her needlework onto the chair beside hers. "You want to help you and I am getting in the way of your future with the prince. I am sorry, Erika, but I can do nothing about that."

My eyes began to burn and I blinked furiously to prevent the tears from falling. "I'm sorry," I said. "I hope you both are very happy with your marriage."

"I'm sure we will learn to be," she said, turning away from me.

I turned and left the room, feeling far more hopeless than I had when I'd entered.