The Debutante (Season Series #2)

Chapter 32: The Consequences of a Kiss

If the days hadn't been moving quickly enough before, they slowed to a snail's pace now that I was under house arrest. I tossed and turned at night, restless in my sheets from days spent sitting in stifling rooms surrounded by tittering ladies and idle gossip. The one day I screwed up my courage to ask the queen if I could take a ride, she smiled kindly at me but tore me down just the same.

"Surely one of the stablehands can exercise your horse for you," she said, dismissing my request with a wave of her slender hand, "You're needed here to help us plan the seating arrangements for the next debutante dinner gala."

I held my tongue, as I was so accustomed to doing lately. It was black and blue from all the times I'd bitten it to keep my true thoughts at bay and now that I spent nearly every waking moment in the queen's presence, there was no respite in sight.

With the service door locked, I relied on Andrew to supply me with books since I wasn't able to sneak down to the little library any more. He willingly obliged, but I was beginning to think he was unable to understand how trapped I felt under his mother's new orders.

"I can't stand another minute in this room," I said one night, pacing before the fire while he read over yet another sheaf of official documents. He glanced up at me distractedly before returning to his reading.

"Then let's take a walk tomorrow," he said, his brows furrowing as he flipped through the pages to check something and mark a note.

"I can't, your mother has insisted that I sit in her salon and listen to yet more poetry and gossip like I'm her pet dog to command," I said, feeling the frustrated tears spring to my eyes, again. I paused in my tracks, blinking furiously to keep them from falling as I stared at him. It took him a moment to notice I'd stopped moving, looking up at me as if he'd only just noticed I was there.

"Then I'll come fetch you myself," he said, his eyes softening as he set aside the papers and patted the place beside him on the love seat. I stood rooted to the spot, feeling as if I was being both pulled in a thousand directions and crushed by the oppressive palace walls all at the same time.

"Libby," he said gently, rising to come take my hands. His touch was enough to open the floodgates and the tears came pouring out. He wound his arms around me despite Brenna's cough from the corner, but even she must have recognized how badly I needed to be held because she didn't further protest.

"I can't breathe here, Andrew," I said into his shirt, wishing that the steady thump of his heart beneath my ear would be enough to calm me despite knowing that it wouldn't.

"It's only for a little longer," he said into my hair, his hand rubbing a reassuring circle across my back.

"Can't you talk to her for me? She never listens to anything I ask," I said, reluctantly pulling back when he took my shoulders so he could look down into my eyes.

"I have, on multiple occasions," he said, his eyes searching my face, "I don't like what this is doing to you either, but she has a point. Whoever I marry is going to be queen and with that come certain responsibilities..."

I'd never cage you...

The words jumped into my head as he looked down at me with what he probably hoped was a reassuring smile. Instead, however, the only thing I could hear above the roaring of my pounding heart and my brain wailing with despair were his words from last Season, cruelly repeating over and over again in my head.

"You said you'd never cage me," I whispered finally, unable to ignore the thoughts as tears sprang into my eyes once again. Andrew inhaled, his forehead creasing with worry as he brushed the tears from my cheeks.