The Forgotten Princess (Forgotten Royals)

Chapter Four

The gray light of the new year made little difference in the dark chamber where I stayed. Once sister to the heir of the throne, now I found myself staying in a small room that chilled my bones. Catrin and I shared a bed. The mattress sagged and offered less comfort than one in the poorest inn.

It seemed like the twelve days of Christmas would never end. Even now, joyful shouts echoed from down the hall, men who were already drunk and ready to celebrate as if the rest of the year wouldn't be purgatory.

Exhaustion weighed me down as if my bones were made of iron. Although my stomach howled like hounds with hunger, I couldn't muster the energy for another feast where I was treated like nothing. Bad enough to haunt this dilapidated chamber with only Catrin to witness my humiliation.

She left the bed with far too much energy for this time. As she dressed and complained about the conditions, I felt a wave of gratitude for her companionship. I would never say anything. All she would do was scoff and remind me that she had no other option. Back home, a few young men were drawn to her beauty. But she refused to marry an Englishman and had no family left. Guilt rose that I couldn't do more for her. A true noblewoman could provide for those who served her.

Not that she ever blamed me. Her ire was all reserved for the Lancasters.

"Perhaps the Lancaster king has wasted all his money when warring with my land and can't be expected to maintain his own castle." Catrin sniffed as she stood beside the brazier, trying to capture some warmth. "If his room is half as cold, no wonder he is so ill-tempered."

I stayed in bed, wrapping the moth-eaten blanket around me. "God's bones, it will never be this bad for him. This room was to remind me how little I matter."

She rubbed her hands together. "Nothing shows the worthiness of a king more than an act of pettiness to a motherless seventeen-year-old."

A reluctant giggle escaped as I sank deeper into the uncomfortable mattress. "At least he didn't stick me in a barn."

She rolled her eyes. "Even a barn would be better. But my lady, don't take these actions as evidence that you don't matter. He is trying to make you feel that way because you do matter."

"That's surprisingly cheery for you."

She stuck her tongue out. "It's not cheery, but logic. If you didn't matter, he could have housed you with Queen Joan. Made you a maid-in-waiting. Lots of unimportant girls have that position. But you're too important. He doesn't want people remembering the Mortimer princess."

I rolled on my side. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" A thud echoed in the lonely chamber as she opened our small chest. "You are a princess. Even when selfish men claim differently, it doesn't make it any less true. Don't let them make you forget who you are."

"I'm so tired," I whispered. "And now I have to plead with my brothers and ask them to forget their own legacies?"

A two-month siege of grief and desperation had finally broken through my defenses. Since Mama died, I had not allowed myself a moment to stop. I stayed up late in the night, writing letters to any relative who might help me. My tears were pushed down as I smiled and tried to charm assistance from so-called generous people. When I used my few resources to get a room in an inn, I kept a vigil long into the night, never sure if the barred door would withstand the rough men who eyed me. Survival always came first.

I couldn't even cry now. It felt like a heavy stone had taken the place of my heart. All I wanted to do was lie there until I was dust.

Green fabric covered my eyes. I pushed it aside, finding Catrin had flung a kirtle at me.