It is him. Him. Karl. Has he come to rebuke me? Or to save me? I rush toward him.
“I have not yet been able to spin straw,” I tell him. “It is dark, and I need my satchel. I will do it, though. I will do it if you bring it to me. I promise.” It is a rush of words cut off only by his mouth upon mine, his arms around me. I do not want to want him, to succumb to him, but I do. I melt into his body.
“Darling.” He kisses me, kisses my mouth and my cheeks, his hands groping his way down my back.
I pull away. “You abandoned me! You threw me away! Am I nothing to you? You did not even recognize me when I was in front of you!”
“You surprised me. And I could not, anyway, not in front of my family.”
“You could have if you loved me.”
“I do love you, darling.” Again, he embraces me, and I want for all the world to give in, to relent, like the water rolling through the mill, even if it means I will drown.
I hold his head in my hands and kiss him.
Drowning.
“You did not come on Thursday. You did not come, and I waited.”
“I could not. I was detained. And I did not know how to send word to you. I did not even know your full name.”
“I did not know yours, apparently.” I gasp as he kisses me, as his hands, his lips rove over me, pulling me closer, closer to the abyss.
“You want a princess, not a peasant,” I say.
“I want you,” he whispers. “Do you not see? I went to the market dressed as a peasant to meet a girl just like you.”
To take advantage of, whispers a horrible voice inside me. To have before you have your proper princess. Who knows how many other girls there have been.
But I only say, “Why?”
“To find someone who would love me for myself, as Karl, not Prince Karl Theodor of Bavaria. I am tired of these noblewomen who only wish to be princesses. I had to meet someone who did not know who I was.”
“And . . . ?” My eyes have adjusted to the light, and I stare up at him, at his beautiful face. I cannot make out the color of his eyes, only his long eyelashes, his brows knit together.
“And I found you, my darling. The sweetest, kindest . . .” He begins to kiss me again, my eyes, my cheeks. “The most wonderful girl in the world. Cornelia! We will be together.”
“Yes.” It is what I want, the reason I came here. Kendra’s magic worked. I do not know how, but it worked after all!
“So you spoke to your father?” I hold him at arm’s length to gaze at him.
“Yes, my love. Yes!”
“And he knows I am not a fortune hunter?” I lay my head against my darling Karl’s chest. It will be all right.
“Of course not. Once he heard of your talent, he knew you could not be.”
“My . . . talent.”
“Yes. Why would a girl who could spin straw into gold need to marry for fortune?”
“What?”
“Yes, ’tis true. Father said that once you spin straw into gold, he will know you are not a fortune hunter. Then we can be married. We will be together, my love!”
He gazes down at me, and even in the near-darkness, I see the light of happiness in his eyes.
“Are you not overjoyed?”
I lay my head upon his chest, again feeling sick, more than a bit sick. Part of me whispers that if Karl only wants me contingent upon my being able to spin straw into gold, he is not worth having. But of course he is! He is a prince! If I marry him, I will be a princess. And if I do not . . . if I do not . . . I will be a wretched, abandoned miller’s daughter, disgraced with a prince’s bastard, a piece of garbage who may as well throw herself into the river.
“Oh, yes, Karl, I am so happy. I just need my satchel.”
He backs away. “Of course, my love. I will send for it. You must work through the night, so we can be together.”
“I will, my darling. I will.”
He leaves then. I settle into the straw to wait. I can only hope that Kendra will be able to fix it.
But Karl does not return with my belongings. He does not bring the mirror. He does not bring anything. The moonlight rolls across the window, and I listen to the night noises of the barn, the movement of the chickens. What if he never returns? The straw feels scratchy against my arms. No. Of course he will return. He loves me. He said he would. In the corner, I see the shadow of the spinning wheel like a smaller version of our mill. Oh, if only I was home. No, I do not want, I cannot go back home. I have to stay, to do this. Sometimes, people have to do things they do not wish to do, in order to be rewarded. I came here to change my life. It will change. It must.
An hour or more passes, and my arms feel scratchy, as if hundreds of insects are crawling upon them. Where is Karl? Where is the mirror? I rise and walk to the window. There is no one there, nothing. I run to the door. It is locked from the outside. I am trapped, a prisoner. I knew Karl would not return, I knew it. What will happen tomorrow morning when they find me, asleep in the straw that is still straw, not gold? When they see I am a liar? Will I be executed?