“And you’ll want some frothy gowns for all the upcoming spring festivals, and formal dinners,” said the third seamstress.
Then they all started chattering about how perfect her coloring was for spring, and wouldn’t it be lovely to make sure every gown she wore had at least a hint of pink to match her lovely hair?
In the midst of it all, more servants appeared. They wheeled in golden carts covered in snacks and treats as pretty as treasure in a chest. There were cookies shaped like castles, tarts topped in glistening pastel fruit, poached pears in a swirling golden sauce, candied dates wearing miniature crowns, and oysters on ice with pink pearls that glistened under the light.
“We hope this is all to your liking,” said one of the servants. “If there’s anything else you need, just ask. His Highness the prince wanted you to know that you can have whatever you wish.”
“And if you ever need a break, merely let us know,” said the tall seamstress before reaching into her little apron and pulling out a measuring tape.
It was shortly after this, when Evangeline’s arms were being measured for gloves, that she noticed the scar. It was on the underside of her right wrist, thin and white, shaped like a broken heart. And it had definitely not been there before.
As soon as the measuring was done, Evangeline lifted her wrist to examine the strange broken heart. She ran a finger over it carefully. Her skin prickled as she touched it.
In that instant, it was as if the precious bubble she was inside of burst. Pop. Pop. Pop.
The wonder of all the treats and sweets and beautiful fabrics faded as Evangeline stared at the little broken heart. She couldn’t remember it at all, but she did remember the little voice in her head from earlier, warning her that everything wasn’t perfect.
Evangeline continued to study the scar, trying hard to remember how she’d received it, until she caught the tall seamstress staring at her oddly. Evangeline quickly covered the scar with her hand.
The seamstress didn’t say anything about the heart. But something about the way she had stared at it made Evangeline feel inexplicably nervous. Then she noticed the woman covertly slipping away from the suite as the other seamstresses continued working.
Evangeline didn’t know if the scar was truly something to worry about, or if maybe she was just imagining the woman’s reaction. Evangeline had no reason to feel alarmed other than the voice in her head telling her that something wasn’t right. But maybe what was really wrong was that she was hearing a voice in her head.
Maybe she could have trusted it if she’d been tossed in a dungeon. But she was in a castle straight out of one of her mother’s stories and married to a dashing prince who’d come back from the dead and who was desperately in love with her. This new life was not just a fairytale—it was more like something from a legend.
While fabrics and feelings continued to swirl around her, another visitor arrived—one of the physician’s apprentices from yesterday. Evangeline remembered her name was Telma.
Evangeline didn’t know how long it was she’d been standing there. The current fitting was for a hooded raspberry cape made of deep velvet fabric that had been covering her eyes until a moment ago.
“I’ve just come for a quick checkup, Your Highness,” said Telma. “Is this a bad time?”
“Oh no, I’m just practicing being a pincushion,” said Evangeline, hoping to sound more cheerful than she felt.
“How are your missing memories?” Telma asked. “Have any returned?”
“I’m afraid not,” Evangeline said. She wondered then if maybe she should mention the voice in her head.
But Telma’s reply gave her pause. “I’m sorry you still can’t remember,” she said.
And it could have just been Evangeline’s overeager imagination, but she could have sworn this assistant didn’t look sorry at all. If anything, she appeared relieved. The reaction brought to mind what Apollo had told Evangeline last night: Jacks has done atrocious, unforgivable things to you, and I truly believe you might be happier if those things stay forgotten.
Until then, Evangeline had tried not to think about it. Thinking about her missing memories too much made her feel overwrought, overwhelmed, and in too far over her head. She so wanted to believe that if she could just find a way to get the memories back, it would all be better.
But what if Apollo was right? What if remembering only made everything worse? He’d seemed truly concerned at the prospect of her getting them back. And now this assistant looked as if she felt the same way, as if Evangeline was genuinely better off forgetting.
And yet it was difficult to completely dismiss her unease. Perhaps it was because thus far, she really had nothing but Apollo’s word.
“Telma, I heard something last night, and I’m just wondering if it’s true. I heard Apollo was murdered on our wedding night and I was framed for the crime.”
Telma paled at the question. “I never believed you did it.”
“But it’s true that others believed I did?”
Telma nodded grimly. “It was a terrible time for everyone. But now that Apollo is back, hopefully all of that’s come to an end.”
Telma slowly exhaled and something dreamy filled her eyes. “It’s amazing, isn’t it, that the prince came back from the dead for you?” The look she gave Evangeline was so earnest, so sweet and pure and awed, Evangeline couldn’t help but feel a little foolish for thinking about trusting a little paranoid voice in her head.
When the seamstresses, the physician, and the servants finally left, it was night, and Evangeline’s suite turned from a hive of activity to a quiet sanctuary only enlivened by the crackling fire and the distant chime of a tower clock. It was the first time Evangeline had been alone all day.
But the quiet did not last. Shortly after she found herself alone, a knock sounded on her door.
“May I enter?” asked Apollo.
Evangeline quickly looked in the closest mirror to check her reflection and smooth her hair, unexpectedly flustered, before she replied, “Come in.”
The door opened quietly and Apollo strode confidently inside.
He was still handsome, and he was still a prince.
Not that Evangeline had expected him to stop being handsome or a prince. She was just overcome by the truth of it once again. By his standing in her suite, all tall and regal. And she imagined he knew how good he looked and exactly what effect he was having on her.
He smiled wider as her cheeks grew warmer. She hoped it wouldn’t always be this way. It had been only a day and a half since she had met him, at least that she remembered.
“I heard you’ve been indoors all day. Join me for a walk?” He said the word walk with a twist of his mouth that made Evangeline think they’d be doing more than just walking.
Her stomach did a giddy little tumble.
She didn’t know if it was perhaps her memories coming back, or if maybe she was simply attracted to him.
“Yes, I’d love to join you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Apollo brought Evangeline a fluffy white cloak lined in snow-white fur. He helped her with her cloak, warm fingers lingering at the nape of her neck as he moved her hair. It felt more intentional than accidental. In fact, Evangeline was beginning to suspect that everything Apollo did was by design.