The Prince and the Rebel

The Suspicion

Miri had never been in a carriage before. Once as a child she had ridden in her uncle's cart, but this was much different. The inside was lined in rich wood and fabric. Miri couldn't help but rub the seat and feel the tiny curtains that hung across the windows where she examined the fine stitching that almost seemed invisible.

The prince chuckled. Miri looked up at him to find him looking at her curiously. "Is it a professional curiosity or do you just fancy the curtains?" he asked.

Miri looked away, feeling that she had been scolded for bad manners. Instead, she looked out the window as the carriage went over the bridge and into town.

"How did you meet Daniel?" the prince asked after a short moment of silence.

Miri didn't dare look him in the face, afraid that he'd pry more information an unwitting expression she might give. She only shrugged, keeping her face fixated on the window.

"Oh, come now. What would be the harm in telling me that? Especially after he has very clearly left you to the wolves."

She stole a sideways glance at him to see him tilting his head toward her in sincerity.

"He came into our shop," she said in a small voice.

The prince sat back as if he was waiting to be told a story, but that was all she said. "Well," the prince coaxed her on gently, "what did he say?"

Miri didn't want to give up all her secrets so easily. She had never told anyone about her interactions with Daniel, not even her parents. But it all seemed rather pointless now. The only one in any danger now was her. In a shy voice, and still without making eye contact with the prince, she said, "He said he liked my smile... and he asked me about our business—about my future as a seamstress and the difficulties of keeping the shop." Her voice picked up in earnestness as she thought back to those times. And now, even without any prodding from the prince, she continued. "He kept coming back for more items and each time, he seemed to really care about our well being, asking questions about how much trouble we have to go through to get the dyes and fabrics, the taxes we had to pay on our business, the merchants and customers..."

The prince's eyes began to narrow as he listened.

"...and about me. He wanted to know about me. And he wanted to spend time with me." Her voice trailed off again into a near whisper. "He cared about me." With that, she stopped speaking, leaving her raw pain of abandonment hanging on those words.

For a time, the prince didn't say anything—maybe out of respect to her feelings, or being lost in thought. "I see," he said at last. "He sounds like a very kind man."

Miri looked up at the prince in surprise.

The carriage came to a slow stop in front of her house.

"Ah," the prince said with a smile on his face. "I'm excited to see your place of business." The door opened and a member of the city guard stood waiting for the prince to exit the carriage.

On the far side of the street, a group of men and women hauling their wares home from the market stopped in their tracks and gasped at the sight of the prince.

Miri heard them from inside the carriage where she drew back and tried to hide herself. But the prince stood with his hand out waiting for her exit, and at last she sucked in her breath and stepped onto the small footstool that had been provided. She refused to take the prince's hand, however, and held her skirt with both hands to keep from tripping on it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the prince give an amused smile and shake his head at her little act of defiance. Even she had to admit it was a childish attempt, but it was all she had.