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Oh My, I Messed Up the Story

Katie Pullman, a chronically ill girl who spends her life immersed in fiction, suddenly finds herself inside a novel she has read. Thrown right into the thick of things, she desperately tries to keep the plot intact but happy endings aren't always as they seem... *Cover art by polkadottedscrunchie*

Mcllorycat · ファンタジー
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193 Chs

Bridal Lessons

Bridal lessons started the next day under the direction of a very strict tutor the queen had chosen for me called Madame Chalaise. She was a tall, painfully thin woman whose appearance reminded me of a hawk. Apparently, she had tutored Mariela and the unnamed princesses of Annalaias who had been shipped off to marry foreigners as well.

When we met the royal ladies for tea Mariela flinched at the sight of her. That made my impression of the rigid woman even worse.

I needed to gain Mariela's trust. She and her husband were meant to become the benevolent king and queen of this nation with Alpheus' and Marcy's help. I still needed to find a way to get Marcy back in the picture but in the meantime the least I could do was get this particular plot point back on track.

"Mariela, once my lessons are complete for the day, shall we take a walk together in the gardens?"

"What a splendid idea," the queen agreed. "Rosenia and I are far too busy for such things. Dear Mariela has plenty of time to fill and could use the company."

This lady really knew how to play favorites. I saw nothing wrong with Mariela. Was it simply because she was the wife of the second prince?

The book focused primarily on Alpheus and Marcy…to him it looked like his brothers both lived the high life but maybe that wasn't quite true. Prince Franz clearly wasn't discriminated against as harshly as his younger brother but there appeared to be more to this business than met the eye.

Mariela looked surprisingly pleased at the invitation. "I would be delighted to accompany you, Catherine."

Catherine this, Catherine that! I wouldn't survive in this place being Catherined to death.

"Alpheus calls me Katie. I would be honored if the rest of the family would do the same."

"I see the two of you are quite intimate already," the queen said disapprovingly as she sipped her tea.

"Not at all, Your Ma—Mother. When we met I was with my brother. My family has always called me Katie and Alpheus overheard it," I lied easily.

Not one person I had met thus far in this place referred to Al by his nickname so it was safe to assume I was the only one who called him that.

If this very proper monarch knew her already-disliked youngest son had been so informal at a first meeting Al would be in trouble. He didn't need any more of that.

Believing my fib, the queen was appeased. "Ah, that makes sense. I did wonder…that boy has no sense of decorum."

I frowned. Maybe around me he didn't but from what little I had seen of his interactions with other people in this castle he knew how to act his part.

What had he done to earn the queen's ire? Or did she just hate him for no reason? My curiosity burned but it was a sensitive subject for him; I couldn't just ask.

"I believe we have intruded on Her Highness' hospitality long enough," Madame Chalaise said sternly. "Please excuse us; we have lessons to attend to."

The queen nodded loftily and Rosenia smirked at me, suspecting what tortures were in store for the lowly daughter of an earl. Mariela gave me a soft, sympathetic smile as I stiffly followed my teacher.

Bridal lessons were every bit as terrible as I expected. I had to walk like a princess, talk like a princess, eat and drink like a princess. I thought learning etiquette from the countess was bad.

That was nothing! Palace culture was much more stifling. They had five different types of forks! Back in the earldom I had only learned about three!

Even worse, I had to learn how to ride side saddle specifically for when dignitaries visited. Normally, I was allowed to ride with one leg on each side like a regular person; I just had to wear a special skirt.

It was terribly uncomfortable twisting my body like that with the bumping of the horse's back. If I was in my old body I would have thrown my hip out for sure.

I noticed Al spying on me as I practiced walking around the paddock sidesaddle and I gave off desperate signals for him to come and save me. Thankfully, he caught on.

"Madame Chalaise, I do believe this is enough practice for the time being. The royal dressmaker has urgent business with my fiancée that cannot wait. I shall escort her."

She was utterly unsuspicious. "Carry on, Your Highness. Lessons will commence first thing tomorrow. Lady Catherine, do not forget your appointment with Princess Mariela."

Al helped me down and I slumped against the horse in relief as the tutor walked away.

"Do I really have to meet with the dressmaker?"

"At some point but not now. You looked like you needed rescuing," he said with a mischievous glint in his usually dull eyes.

"My hero," I sighed dramatically, making him laugh. "So now what? I really do have an appointment with Mariela before dinner."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you want with the second princess?"

Did he have to be so suspicious of everybody? She wasn't the villain here.

"I thought she could use a friend. That Rosenia is a real piece of work. I get the feeling that the only one who's nice to Mariela here is her husband."

I tried to be sly about bringing up the second prince. I needed to know what Al actually thought of him.

"Mariela was the jewel of her country. Of course Franz would have to be nice to her if he wants his backing," Al said bitterly.

"What does he need backing for?" I asked with genuine interest.

The dynamics of this castle could be very confusing. The second prince looked like a busy person. What I wanted to know was what he was so busy with. Trying to overthrow the crown prince?

"I assume he's bidding for the throne. Why he wants it is beyond me."

This wasn't right. Prince Alpheus had no desire for the throne in the novel but he did care about what happened to the people at least.

"He probably doesn't agree with Sigmund's policies," I hinted. Like how you're not supposed to agree with them, dimwit!

"Who cares? Sigmund always gets what he wants," Al said gloomily.

Man. That guy had really done a number on his younger brother. Wasn't Marcy supposed to fix this? I needed Marcy's help but those two hadn't even met properly!