Chapter 2: Prologue: Questions Not Asked
Eventually, Celia found herself trudging aimlessly through the manicured gardens, trying to calm her agitation as Lauren's voice echoed in her head.
If she returned to the castle wing where her family's apartments were, her mother would see right away that she was upset and demand to know why. Then her mother would demand to know who'd mentioned Ilse Thierre in the first place.
There was no point trying to lie. Princess Violet could sniff out the smallest of fibs. She didn't exactly approve of Celia and Lauren being friends, either.
If she found out what Lauren had revealed, she might even forbid the two girls from spending time together.
Celia turned past a tall hedge and found herself in a little courtyard full of plum trees. Sprawled on one of the ornate bench seats was her uncle, Prince William Devon. He was keeping a close eye on his small son, who was toddling between the trees and babbling to himself.
"Do you know who Ilse was, Uncle Will?" Celia found herself blurting out as she walked over and dropped into the seat next to him with a huff.
William raised his brows in bemusement. He wasn't really her uncle but a younger cousin of her father's. Still, manners dictated she refer to him as uncle, though he wasn't even ten years older than her.
"Good afternoon to you too. And how am I supposed to know? You think I keep track of all the women in this castle?"
"I'm talking about a lady named Ilse Thierre." she said, watching her young uncle's face carefully for his reaction.
William slowly nodded as understanding dawned upon his face. "I see. That was your mother's late sister, wasn't she?" His eyes flicked back to his small son.
Celia scowled. "So I guess everyone but me knows that my mother once had a twin sister? She's never said one word about it and neither has Father. Why is the sister this mysterious secret?"
"I don't think she's a secret, exactly." he shrugged. "But if I recall, Lady Ilse died a very long time ago. So there's little to be gained from bringing up such a subject, is there? Especially if it still grieves your mother to remember her."
"You think Mother still grieves for her?" Celia asked.
"Well, I haven't asked your mother directly, but I should think so. It's a painful thing to lose a sibling." William sighed.
What an odd thing for him to say. "But how would you know that, uncle? Aren't you an only child?"
He pressed his lips into a thin, grim line. "Blood isn't the only thing that creates siblings." Then as quick as it had appeared, the shadow left his face and he was back to his usual placid self.
Celia shook her head, not understanding. Why did adults always have to say things that made no sense? "Do you remember this lady Ilse at all?" she asked.
"No, but then, I was just a child myself when your mother first arrived at court. You're better off asking her about these events."
She nodded. It was sometimes easy to forget that William was actually closer to her age than her parents'. Celia knew that for all their insistence that she always refer to William as her uncle, her parents regarded him as a frivolous young man.
Celia rather liked his company. He wasn't as staid and serious as most of the other adults in her life. Ever since he'd become a father himself, William seemed less uncomfortable in the presence of the other Devon children. He also had an irreverent sense of humour and could make Celia laugh until her sides ached.
All her friends liked him too.
Well, it would be more accurate to say her friends sighed and flitted around like dizzy birds in his presence, whispering behind their hands about how stunning he was.
Their words always made Celia squirm with embarrassment.
She'd never really stopped to think about whether William was as handsome as her friends insisted. He was just her uncle. He was also married.
Her friends, Lauren especially, often gossiped rudely that William's foreign wife was a witch. Celia had seen no proof of that. The wife had never been anything but pleasant to her. She was also exotically beautiful.
Probably why her friends were always sniping about her, Celia mused. "How's your wife doing?"
William smiled. "Camilla's well. She'll be blessed by the priests in a few days and be able to join the court again. I know she'll be happy to enjoy the summer outdoors instead of being stuck inside a bedchamber."
William's wife was still in confinement after having given birth to twins not long ago.
More twins…
But then, Celia had been told William's new babies were a boy and a girl.
Not two girls, where one of them was never spoken of.
"What's with all the questions about the past, anyway? Why don't you talk to your parents about this instead of me?" William leapt from his seat suddenly and managed to wrangle an unripe plum from his little son's hands just before the child tried to bite into it. The boy burst into tears.
"Here, Malcolm. Sit with me." Celia coaxed. The child climbed onto her lap and continued sobbing his disappointment while she hugged him against her. She smiled down at him, he really was the most adorable little boy.
To William, she replied, "I don't want my parents to find out that I know. If they've never mentioned Mother's sister to me before, they obviously don't want me to know about her."
"So how did you find out about her to begin with?"
"I was quarreling with Lauren and she told me." Celia mumbled as she continued cuddling little Malcolm.
"Who the hell's Lauren? One of the girls you spend time with?"
"Yes. Her mother - Countess Blackwell - was a lady-in-waiting to Grandmother back when both my mother and her twin joined the court."
"And this friend of yours just decided to drop the truth on you in the middle of a fight?" William tipped his head up towards the sun and closed his eyes. "Are you sure you want to be friends with her? She sounds like a little bitch to me."
Celia blushed at his typically blunt response. "She's been my friend forever. She just…gets jealous sometimes and says the wrong thing."
William looked at her askance. "People will always envy us for being royal, mostly because they don't see the burdens we carry. They just see the privilege. But if they can't manage their envy except to try and take you down, find other friends."