The sharp knock at the door startled Cassandra out of her thoughts. Ruth, who had been brushing her hair, paused mid-stroke.
In the mirror, Cassandra caught her reflection: a white nightdress draping her slender form, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and down to her waist.
Ruth placed her hands on her hips. "Who dares to knock so rudely at the princess's door?"
Outside, voices clashed.
"You can't go in! Please leave!" one of the guards commanded.
"I must speak with the princess!" Selena's voice rose in defiance as she banged on the door again.
"My lady, please leave. We don't want to resort to force as you are the prince's guest," the guard said firmly but politely.
Selena huffed. "Guest? I am his highness's wife! I will not leave until I see her!"
Ruth glanced at Cassandra, her expression wary.
"Let her in," Cassandra said with a calm wave of her hand.
Ruth opened the door, and Selena stumbled through, nearly falling to the floor. Ruth glared down at her.
"What do you want now, you ungrateful woman?"
Selena snapped back, "How dare you speak to me like that? I am no longer in your class or station. Our social standings are worlds apart now, and you will address me as 'my lady!'"
"And does 'my lady' enjoy the floor so much?" Cassandra remarked, folding her arms and tilting her head slightly, her poise unshaken.
Selena scrambled to her feet, her cheeks burning with humiliation. "You—I have come to see you."
"Here I am," Cassandra said coolly. "Since you've rudely forced your way into my chambers, what is so urgent that it couldn't wait until morning?" Her eyes flicked over Selena's dress—a worn, old party gown. "Or have you come to borrow a nightdress?"
Ruth swallowed a laugh as Selena's face flushed red with anger.
"Stay away from my husband!" Selena demanded. "I saw the way you looked at him at dinner. I don't know what scheming you're planning, but it won't work. He is my husband, and you can't take him from me!"
Cassandra drew a deep breath, silently praying for patience.
"You come into my castle, on the arm of my husband, eating my food, wearing my clothes..." Cassandra's voice turned ice-cold. "And you speak of snatching? What is mine is mine. You have nothing."
Selena's eyes burned with fury. "That's a lie. You have nothing! Your husband despises you. He will divorce you, and you'll be left with nothing. This castle will be mine, and you will see that this is a competition I'm winning!"
Cassandra scoffed, rising to her full regal height. "A competition? With a lowly servant? All I see is a desperate woman who doesn't know her place."
Selena's hands balled into fists at her sides. "Tomorrow, he will give me my wardrobe, the keys to this castle, and the power to hire my own servants. Then you'll know I'm more than a lowly servant. He loves me. I will be his queen."
Cassandra's gaze bore into her. "Why are you trying so hard to be me, Selena? What did I ever do to make you despise me so?"
Selena's laugh was cold and bitter. "All hail Princess Cassandra, who has it all and doesn't even see it. The prince is all I have."
Cassandra's voice softened. "We were best friends once, Selena. Did you never see me as your friend?"
"Friends?" Selena spat. "How can a noble princess be friends with a lowly servant?"
The words struck Cassandra like a blade, but she maintained her composure.
"So, what are you doing here?" Cassandra said evenly. "This isn't your beloved husband's bedroom."
Selena hesitated, then admitted, "He does not wish to share his chambers here in the castle. He says it's improper."
Cassandra's lips curled into a faint smile. She knew the prince's strict principles regarding his royal bedchamber—it was sacred to him, reserved only for intimacy he deemed significant.
"Ruth," Cassandra said, her voice firm, "show Selena to her room. Tomorrow will be a long day."
Selena glared but said nothing as Ruth ushered her out.
Once the door shut, Cassandra walked to her window, restless. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the castle grounds. Her eyes drifted downward and caught sight of the prince astride a horse, cloaked in shadows.
He looked up, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers with an intensity that rooted her to the spot. He mouthed something, and though she couldn't hear him, the words struck her soul:
For the first time, I looked upon my wife, and by God, she was beautiful.
Her breath caught, and she slammed the window shut, her heart racing.
"No," she whispered to herself, climbing back into bed and pulling the covers over her head. "That couldn't be real."
---
The dawn found Cassandra restless. She dressed quietly, careful not to wake Ruth, and slipped out of the palace. She made her way to the stables, selecting a black stallion, and rode into the open fields. The sunrise painted the sky in hues of gold and pink, a beauty that momentarily soothed her mind.
She didn't notice the company of riders trailing her until she slowed her horse. A leather bottle appeared before her, held by none other than the prince.
"Thirsty?" he asked, his tone unreadable.
"I'm fine," she replied curtly.
He smirked. "I thought we were even after yesterday."
"Well, I didn't exactly bring home a husband, now did I?" she retorted, her words laced with venom.
His expression darkened. "What's wrong?"
"You're giving her the keys to the castle?" she demanded, her voice low but heated.
His eyes narrowed. "Is that what she told you?"
"Does it matter?" She turned her horse, but he blocked her path.
"It matters," he said firmly. "The keys to the castle belong to us—it was our wedding gift."
Cassandra laughed bitterly. "You even remember our wedding?"
"I don't understand you, Cassandra," he said, his voice quieter this time.
She raised an eyebrow. "What don't you understand?"
He stepped closer, his gaze locking with hers. "You confuse me."
Before she could pull away, he grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not painful. "Don't you remember before our wedding?"
Her breath hitched. "What are you talking about?"
"Our marriage is a peace treaty," he said coldly.
She yanked her arm free, her anger blazing. "Was I wrong to expect more?"
He handed her the water bottle and stepped back. "No, you weren't."
Mounting his horse, he glanced back. "I still want a divorce, dear wife."
The words lingered in the air as he rode away, leaving Cassandra stunned.
Dear wife? Her heart pounded. When had he started calling her that?