The Traitor's Daughter (Complete)

Part 33-To Be or Not To Be

 Once again the palace was being decorated, this time for the betrothal. The ceremony would take place in the grand hall, in the presence of nobles and the Grand Duke Edmund. Frantic activity marked the days. Zena had found herself helping not only in the kitchen but also making monogrammed napkins for dinner. As she stitched the intertwined L and L, the initials of the prince and his intended, her heart broke anew.

Zena took a deep breath, as she stared at the letters. She should wash her hands off the whole business of love, she mused. Slowly, a feeling of equanimity stole over her. A sense of calmness settled on her. She couldn't change what was happening. The only course left was to close her heart to any feelings for Luke.

"Are you done, my dear?" asked Nan, bending to peer at her handiwork.

"Almost," Zena replied, holding up one of the napkins for inspection.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Nan, then clapped a hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry, dear, but I wasn't thinking straight."

"None of it is your fault, Nan," she smiled at the older woman. It was no use making her feel bad.

"Somehow, I think it is. Perhaps, I couldn't raise him right. I tried to inculcate softer feelings in him, but alas, he has turned into a hard and bitter man."

Zena rose from the stool where she had been sitting, doing her needlework. She squeezed Nan's hand in comfort.

"My father always said that we make of ourselves what we want to be. No one has forced Luke from finding out the truth, but he chooses to close his eyes to it." There was a sad resignation in her voice. She was tired of trying to convince him to hear her side.

Nan nodded sagely. Victor was a wise man. It was a pity that he wasn't here. A showdown would have done a world of good to Luke, and maybe put some sense into the boy.

The door was, at that moment, thrown open and Molly entered, wiping her tears. A sob escaped her as she tried to speak. The two women looked with concern at the girl.

"What's the matter, girl?" Nan asked a worried frown on her face.

Between hiccups, she narrated the incident. She had been sent as lady's maid to Princess Leticia. While doing her hair up for the ceremony, Molly had fumbled, not well versed with the latest fashions. The princess had lost her temper and had threatened to dismiss the girl from service.

"What now? I hope Luke finds someone else before she raises hell," Nan said.

"He has....he has ordered me to send Zena to do the princess' hair," Molly said between sniffles.

"That's not possible. Go, ask him to find someone else. Tell him that Zena will not do it," Nan said with fierce determination.

"I...I...can't, Nan. If I don't send Zena immediately, I'll have to leave this job, and you know how badly I need it."

They knew it, of course. Molly came from a poor family. Her mother was a widow with five children. Molly was the eldest. She had to take care of her younger siblings.

Nan started to protest, but Zena stopped her with a hug and a peck on her cheek.

"I'll go, Nan. We can't let poor Molly suffer," she said, her heart seething with anger for the wretched man. How dare Luke threaten the poor girl, and try to force her hand in this way? He was really the devil incarnate.

Molly gave a tremulous smile through her tears.

"Thank you, Zena, for saving my job."

Zena patted the girl's hand, all the while cursing Luke for his constant need to torment her. She cursed the day that he had saved her from the cold and sure death. Maybe, death would have been less painful than his machinations to humiliate her.

Reaching the princess' suite, she knocked at the door. It was opened by none other than Luke.

"Ah, you're here at last," he said, a smile breaking on his lips. He pulled Zena by the hand, turning toward the princess who was seated on the couch, her hair spread like a halo around her face.

"Here, my lady, I had promised you the most skillful maid in the palace, and here she is!"

The Princess rose, taking measure of the new girl sent to her.

"I hope you'll be able to do my hair in the latest fashion, and won't make a mess of it like that fool did," she said, doubt still in her eyes.

"I'll try my best, my lady..." Zena murmured.

"I'll leave you to it then. The guests will soon be arriving, princess," he reminded her, before striding out.

Zena led her to the dresser, then, taking the silver brush, she started brushing her hair.

"How would you like your hair done, Your Highness?" she asked.

The Princess explained to her, and soon she was engrossed in settling the curls and arranging a coif, just the way the princess wanted it.

"Wait outside, while I get dressed," she told Zena, while another maid held her gown, ready to be worn.

Zena waited outside, her heart hammering. In a few minutes, Luke would be betrothed to this woman, and she, Zena, would be set free from this swinging between hope and despair. She wished them well of each other, for they were nicely suited. Whatever she had heard of the princess, wasn't very encouraging. She was rumored to be temperamental and spoiled.

The princess came out of the suite, looking gorgeous, her russet gown making the most of her hair and eyes. The brooch was pinned to her gown for added allure, and emeralds shone on her ears.

The train progressed to the grand hall, Zena following in their wake, unable to make any excuse to escape.

The grand hall was lined with distinguished guests, who gasped when they saw the princess approach. Luke stood in the middle, dressed in his ceremonial uniform, sporting the colors of Zorbia. How devastatingly handsome he looked, but how aloof! Zena turned her gaze away from him, holding her breath, as the princess went to stand beside him.

But wait! What on earth was the matter? The princess swayed by his side, and before he could catch her, she had fallen on the floor into a dead swoon.