Loathe to Love Ch. 05

I scrambled to follow her, no doubt with all the grace of a clumsy newborn kitten. From this low to the floor, my perspective was quite different--distances seemed longer, furniture larger, and Natalia far more impressive in stature. I glanced up at her whenever I was able, taking in her majesty and how small I was before her. It made me feel far meeker than usual. Not cowed, necessarily, but hushed in both voice and thought. All I could focus on was how much I wanted to belong to and please my Miss.

When Natalia paused before our bedroom door, I became overwhelmed by that feeling and rubbed my face against her calf. She looked down at me and smiled, her face flush and eyes bright as if from drunkenness.

"Meow for me," she ordered almost sheepishly.

That, at least, was no issue--I'd spend many afternoons growing up conversing with Harold, the palace's old stable cat. "Mrrow!"

Natalia put a hand over her heart and let out a surprised and delighted belly laugh. "Oh my. There she is. Yes, dear. Hello. Do you want me to pet you?"

Her reaction made my blush brighten, but the embarrassment was overwhelmed by my giddy excitement. Most importantly, I did want her to pet me. And I knew the best way to ask.

"Meow!"

Moments like those were both the standard I strove to follow and my greatest source of comfort when my spirits were low. Unfortunately, low spirits proved the rule rather than the exception--especially as Natalia's list of rules more than doubled in size within a few days of its conception.

"I've just had an idea," Natalia declared one morning as she jumped out of bed, an excited gleam in her eye. She grabbed her journal and started writing. "Rule four: You may only start eating after I do."

The next day, her journal was out again. "Rule five: You will inform me of your daily plans each morning."

And once more the day after that. "Rule six: When we walk together, you will stay behind me and to my right."

"Rule seven: You will always be honest with me."

"Rule eight: You are to treat me with respect and deference."

Wary of forgetful errors, I started spending more time each day reciting and memorizing my new expectations. When Natalia was around, I triple-checked each of my words and actions to ensure they weren't against the rules. Rule eight in particular was a constant source of stress--lacking a concrete sense of what was or was not sufficiently respectful and deferent, I erred on the side of caution and became much quieter and more demure.

After a few days of being caught up in her own enthusiasm, Natalia began to notice my altered behavior--how I froze in place for a second or two before walking anywhere to ensure I was in the right spot or frequently cut myself off mid-sentence to avoid saying anything disrespectful. But her reactions to it were difficult to read. Sometimes, she'd give a small smile or praise me when she saw me correct myself. Other times, she'd crease her brow and stroke her chin, appearing perturbed enough that I'd worry I disappointed her.

And then she grew stricter, and my worries were proven correct.

"Closer," she ordered as she led me to dinner, watching me out of the corner of her eye. "And match pace with me. Otherwise, you'll trip over yourself."

I hurried to comply, mentally kicking myself for faltering.

On one occasion, she held up a finger and shot me a sharp look at the start of lunch. I waited with bated breath, a fork full of potato in hand.

She swallowed. "Not until I've finished my first bite, kitten."

I nodded and lowered my eyes. "Sorry, ma'am." My heart beat fast in my chest.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. You didn't know." Natalia reached across the table to squeeze my hand. I gave her a weak smile.

By the end of the week, my nerves were raw, I was running on a deficit of sleep, and my appetite was sparse. But I hadn't disobeyed once, and that was what mattered.

"Do you need anything, my princess?" asked Thea on the morning of my eighth day under Natalia's control. The lady-in-waiting stood patiently by the door, having just helped me into a mauve dress, petticoats, and a subtle corset.

"Tea." I rubbed my bleary eyes. I'd spent the previous night alone--Natalia was off 'inspecting the logistics' of something or other. I felt somewhat relieved that she was absent and guilty about my relief.

"Yes, princess." Thea disappeared.

I wandered over to the parlor, still too drowsy for particularly coherent thought. I didn't need it yet anyway. Birds sang outside, swaying on tree branches caught in the gentle morning breeze. There was an ache behind my eyes and a sour taste in my mouth. I wondered when Natalia would be back. She'd said today but hadn't been any more specific. I wondered if she'd still want me to tell her my plans for the day when she returned. I wondered if she'd be upset with me when I said I didn't have any. I wondered--

"Oh!"

Entering the room, Thea tripped over the doorway. The teacup and saucer in her hand went flying, spewing drops of hot liquid before shattering against the floor in a great crash.

Shock and terror gripped me for only an instant. It was still enough to ignite my days of discontent into a great inferno of rage.

"You idiot!" I shrieked, clenching my fists hard enough for my arms to tremble.

"Sorry, my princess," Thea murmured. She kept her eyes low as she quickly gathered the shards of ceramic.

"Things like this cannot happen." I glared down at her. "I'm--we're--held to a higher standard than that. Do you understand?"

Thea nodded. "Yes, princess." She turned to leave.

I wouldn't let her yet. "Then why did you do it?"

The servant paused, clearly not expecting the question. "It was a mistake, princess."

I scoffed. "I'm aware of that. Tell me: Do you think I'm allowed to make mistakes, Thea?"

"I..." Thea inched backward toward the door, seemingly at a loss for words. Palpable discomfort was written across her face.

I was making her feel that way.

I was playing the role of the harsh disciplinarian myself, exercising my power to harm another. The realization snuffed out my anger so only guilt remained.

How quickly and naturally the role had come to me.

I knew how much screamed insults and harsh corrections could hurt, and yet I'd reached for them immediately at the slightest inconvenience. Any decent person would have used their pain to learn compassion and empathy. I'd studied mine to learn how best to twist the knife.

Seeing that in real time made me sick to my stomach.

"Never mind," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I'm sorry I yelled, Thea. You didn't do anything wrong." The words were unpleasant to hear out loud, but not saying them would be far worse. "And you're not an idiot. I just...I'm sorry. There's no excuse for that."

Thea stared at me with wide, baffled eyes.

"You can go if you like. I'll clean the spill."

The lady-in-waiting did not need to be told twice. She fled with a tiny curtsy and a "yes, princess."

I went to the linen closet, taking long steps to stretch my legs along the way. As I searched for a suitable dishrag, my mind wandered back to when I'd hid in this very spot weeks ago. Back then, I'd been distraught wanting something I didn't understand. Now, I feared I couldn't have what was making me so distraught.

I grabbed a shoddy rag from the bottom shelf and walked back to the parlor.

I had to tell Natalia what happened. It would get back to her regardless--better for her to hear it from me first. Especially since rule seven demanded my honesty. I hadn't technically broken any rules, but my conduct had clearly been way out of line.

I'd failed.

I slapped the dishrag down onto the floor and started sopping up spilled tea.

My attempt to change my ways had barely lasted a week before crashing back into reality. Apparently, obedience just wasn't in my nature. Selene and all my teachers must have seen that and recognized the necessity of punishment to compensate. And now Natalia was about to as well.

I finished cleaning. I kept running the dishrag over the hardwood floor in jerky, circular motions.

Maybe everyone hadn't mistreated me at all--maybe I was just a bad apple they'd been keeping in check to the best of their ability. What was it I'd said to Natalia during our picnic? A fourth born princess is a feral beast? How fitting.

I tossed my rag into the corner and slumped down to the ground, spent.

Time passed. I pointedly ignored it, running my fingers over seams in the floorboards.

Thea came by at one point, hovering by the doorway. "Are you alright, princess?"

"Yes. Sorry. Again." My voice was flat.

Thea hesitated for a moment. "Is there anything you need?"

"No. Thank you."

"Yes, princess." She left.

There were a lot of seams in the floorboards, I discovered. I'd never been down so low for so long to check before.

I was in the process of counting them when Thea reappeared, two plates of food in hand. "I thought you might want lunch. And company."

I pushed myself up to a seated position and shrugged. "Okay."

She set the plates of chicken and wild rice down on the floor, taking a seat beside me. We mostly ate in silence, but the food and her presence helped to drag me out of the ditch I'd fallen into.

"Are you upset with me?" I asked her toward the end of our meal, my eyes fixed on the chicken bone I was pushing around my plate.

"Not particularly."

I met her eyes. They were guarded, but not fearful. "Why?"

Thea shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you seemed tired and upset. And..." her voice trailed off.

"And?"

"...May I be frank, my princess?"

I nodded, curious if somewhat wary. "Yes."

A bit of tension drained from the servant's shoulders. "I learned long ago that it's not worth taking those sorts of things from you personally."

I frowned. Her words weren't the harsh reality I'd been expecting, but they didn't exactly comfort me either. Not that they had to--with the way I'd treated Thea, she didn't owe me anything. It was yet another reminder of my long list of misdeeds. "But I still shouldn't be doing them."

She cocked her head to the side, then tentatively nodded. "I suppose so."

We finished the rest of our meal in silence. Thea then took our plates and stood, her knees popping as she rose from the floor. "I appreciate the apology, princess."

I blinked and stood up after her. "Oh. Um. Thank you."

Thea nodded and left me alone with my thoughts.

Our meal provided the boost of energy I needed to stop wallowing in the parlor. Instead, I got up and wandered around the estate grounds for a bit, taking in lots of sunlight and little of the scenery. For while my body had successfully moved, my attention was very much still trapped inside my head while I waited for Natalia to return.

Not knowing what was in store allowed my imagination to run wild with lurid images of what our relationship might become or disintegrate into. I'd be carefully kept away from the public to avoid any further embarrassments. I'd start glancing over my shoulder again as I walked through the manor, never quite able to escape her suspicious eye and harsh corrections. I'd have to live knowing I'd squandered my chance at a caring lover.

As I pictured each scenario in my mind, my stoic resignation began to waver.

And as I saw Natalia's carriage appear far down the road, terror made my chest clench so hard I thought it would collapse in on itself.

'Run,' screamed the destructive girl inside my head. 'Get away so you can strike first.'

I obeyed her on instinct, sprinting inside the manor. Forget waiting around for my fate--I would go down fighting. I was only as defenseless as I allowed myself to be, after all. I'd go to the kitchens and start a fire, burn everything to the ground before it could be taken away from me.

Except that was a terrible idea, and I knew it.

The sound of rattling carriage wheels approached. I froze in the middle of the entrance hall.

Lashing out at one of the few people who'd shown me kindness wouldn't solve my problem, and doing it in such a drastic way would be remarkably selfish and stupid. Natalia hadn't even turned cruel yet. There was still time for me to throw myself at her feet and beg for mercy. Kneel as I had knelt before and hope by some miracle it would work again.

Except that was a terrible idea, and I knew it.

When I'd knelt before, there had been no expectations established between us. I'd simply been her wife apologizing for a relatively minor outburst. Now, though, I was beholden to Natalia and had violated the nature of her authority over me. The stakes were far higher; much more was required of her to restore order and balance. I would be pushed back down into my place via force. That was just how power worked. Kneeling made me too vulnerable to that inevitable outcome. I couldn't just let her hurt me.

Natalia exited the carriage and approached the manor. Lacking any concrete plan, I settled for standing ramrod straight from the corner of the room, eyes trained on the door. My legs shook beneath my skirts.

I flinched as the heavy front door swung open and Natalia entered, clad in the dark gray double-breasted coat and trousers typical of an officer. Gold-colored lace was wrapped around her cuffs, belt, and collar. The uniform was slightly creased and crumpled from the travel but otherwise fit neatly. I took in every detail of it, unable to bring myself to look up at the expression on her face. She took two steps into the room, then stopped on a dime as she noticed me.

"Penelope?" She spoke as if addressing a wild animal. "What's wrong?"

I sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. "I am."