Meredith spent the rest of the evening working for the Lady Catherine. It seemed that every time one chore was finished, Catherine only thought up another to keep her busy. The next morning was much of the same. By the time she was able to eat breakfast, it was already ten o'clock.

She made her way wearily down to the kitchen, where she found Ramona taking her mid-morning coffee break.

"Meredith!" said the cook. "Saved you a plate. I figured that Lady Catherine was keeping you from your breakfast. Freshly reheated too," she added, pulling out a  stool.

Meredith sat down gratefully and began to eat the eggs and ham before her.

"What happened to you?" said Ramona, gently, after a while. Meredith froze, her hand immediately going to her face. She was ready to repeat the story she had created as an alibi, but Ramona held up a hand.

"Whatever story you've come up with, forget it!" Ramona said."I won't get involved," she said. "Unless," she added. "I deem it absolutely necessary. However, I have a feeing I know how you got that bruise," she finished, gesturing at Meredith's face.

Meredith sighed, looking at the plate before her. "That time I came down for coffee two days ago? Lady Catherine didn't approve of my taking a break. I...wasn't there when she returned, and so she became angry." She shrugged, going back to her food.

She glanced at Ramona after a while of the older woman's silence.

"Lady Catherine had no right..." mumbled Ramona, angry. "No right to mess with the way things are run."

"There's more..." said Meredith, softly. "She's planning on staying here for a good long while. Perhaps permanently. Isabella told me."

Ramona frowned. "I simply don't believe it. The Princess Therese ought to stand up for herself yet she doesn't! And she sees to it that Isabella doesn't do anything. I don't like it. Don't like it one bit."

"I suppose there's nothing we can do, anyhow," said Meredith, finishing her breakfast. "I suppose I had better return now. She'll be waiting for me."

As she was about to leave, she turned around briefly. "When is Anton...King Antony returning?" She mentally cursed herself for slipping up and using his given name without his title.

She saw Ramona smile a bit. "Should be soon. The messenger arrived only about a half hour ago to give Fulton the message that they'd be arriving soon. I suppose you're excited to see your family?" Meredith couldn't help but wonder if the old cook was not putting a bit of emphasis on the word "family".

"Yes," she said. "Very much."

Ramona spent the next few hours stewing over the Lady Catherine and her ridiculous treatment of Meredith. The girl had volunteered to serve her and she treated her as if she were merely a slave!

On the other hand, Ramona had a plan. The way she figured it, Meredith was making Catherine's crimes sound less than they were. She knew they bothered the girl more than she would admit to.

For the next couple of hours, she thought about what she was going to do. It was all a matter of giving a bare minimum of information to the right people. Ever since the other night when she had served the two of them hot chocolate, she had kept her suspicions to herself. Each day, however, she grew more and more sure that her conclusions were correct.

Why else would the king go personally to fetch the servant girl's family? Why even make the offer to let them stay in the palace in the first place?

Why would the servant girl come very close to using the king's given name unless she frequently thought it?

If she was right in her suspicions, Lady Catherine of House Pendleton would soon be facing a very angry King Antony of House Westerholme.

Ramona smiled, just thinking about it.

Meredith frowned balefully at the sponge in her hand. The Lady Catherine had insisted that she scrub the bathing room floor in the afternoon hours while she took her "rest".

The Lady Catherine's "rest" consisted of her reclining on the chaise lounge and having Meredith fetch her things, usually a glass of expensive wine or a small tray of chocolates.

Needless to say, Meredith had, days ago, begun to regret volunteering for the job.

She had opened the bathing room window to allow the cool breeze to blow in and dry the floor. She was basking in the feeling of the breeze as it washed over her and it enabled her to attack the floor more vigorously.

Suddenly, from the other room, there came a shout.

"Shut that dratted window!" whined the Lady Catherine. "The cold is interfering with my resting!"

"Yes, Ma'am. Of course," said Meredith as she stood to close it, grumbling under her breath as she did so. As she reached the window, she looked down over the courtyard with growing happiness.

A group of soldiers, Antony at its head, was coming to a stop. She watched, holding her breath, as Antony dismounted and turned to the group of riders behind him, helping two small girls dismount, and then a woman who held her head high in the regal manner that Meredith so admired of her mother. She smiled, happier than she had been in days. She wished immediately to go and greet her mother and sisters, but knew the Lady Catherine would not permit it. So she returned to scrubbing the floor, resolved to do the chore as quickly as possible so as to be finished all the sooner.

Ramona smiled widely as she saw the door to the kitchen open and watched Antony enter. He looked as he usually did when he returned from being out with the army: tired and somewhat disheveled. However, he did appear somewhat cheerful, although tired.

"Ramona!" he said, returning the hug she gave him. "How have you been?" he inquired. "You certainly seem happy!"

"I suppose I'm content enough," she said, choosing her words carefully.

"Good to hear," he said. She watched as he yawned. "Mind making me a cup of coffee? I have a few things to take care of before I can get some sleep."

"Of course, Antony," she said, hurrying to get him a cup, her mind still on what she was about to do.

"Thanks," he said, taking the cup from her and immediately taking a drink. She watched as he stopped and eyed the cup suspiciously. "Ramona, might there be sugar in this coffee?"

"Oh!" she said. "I forgot!" She laughed, before taking the cup from him and emptying it, filling it with fresh, black coffee. Distracted as she currently was, she had done as habit had told her and poured in sugar as she might if the coffee had been for her.

"Thank you," he said, taking the new cup from her and sipping it. "Much better," he added, smiling. He turned and prepared to leave, presumably for his study.

"Have you seen the Lady Catherine yet?" she asked, casually, as she took up a rag and began to wipe the already spotless counter.

He turned back to look at her. "I have not, and I plan to put off the visit for as long as I possibly can. I despise the woman, and if she weren't my aunt's sister, she'd never set foot in the palace."

Ramona noted with satisfaction the look of disgust that marred his face at her mention of Catherine.

"You do know," she continued, cautiously, "that she plans on staying here for a good deal of time?"

Antony laughed briefly. "Not if I have anything to say about the matter!"

"Apparently she's already spoken with her sister. I heard word from Meredith." She took note of the look of interest that crossed Antony's face when she said Meredith's name, something he tried to cover up by taking another sip of coffee.

"Meredith has been serving as the Lady Catherine's lady's maid ever since she arrived. That woman must be like a slave driver! Meredith can hardly get away for meals. She had breakfast after ten this morning."

"Oh?" said Antony, a frown beginning to take hold of his expression.

"Yes, I suppose she's been worked very hard these past few days. Of course..." She paused for effect, before continuing, putting the necessary disgust into her voice. "The bruise was what really made me angry."

There was a silence, and Ramona took her gaze away from the counter to glance at Antony. She could see his frown visibly deepen and watched as his grip tightened around the coffee cup in his hands.

"Bruise?" he finally said, the one word sounding rather forced.

"Yes..." said Ramona. She then pretended to show remorse. "I shouldn't have said anything...She wanted to keep it quiet. The Lady Catherine would, of course, be livid if she told anyone."

"She's not the only one..." Antony set the still half full cup of coffee on the counter. "Thank you for the coffee, Ramona," he said. "I'd better go."

She leaned against the counter and smiled as he strode from the room.

Watch out Lady Catherine!

Antony felt that he had not been more furious in his entire life.

"Sire?" he heard Fulton ask as he strode past the butler and towards the stairs.

"I apologize, Fulton," he said, curtly. "I have something I need to do."

As he went up the stairs, he removed his leather gloves and tucked them into his sword belt. He clenched his fists at his sides as he reached the third floor west wing where he knew Lady Catherine would be staying. It was, after all, near her sister, Antony's Aunt Therese.

"You there!" he said to the guard who stood at the entrance to the hall. "Which room is the Lady Catherine staying in?"

"Five down on the left, Sire," said the guard, bowing and looking somewhat intimidated.

As Antony walked the short distance, he allowed his anger to grow. Catherine of Pendleton was used to getting her way. She bullied her sister into doing as she pleased, and Therese in turn led Isabella around and kept her on a short leash when it came to standing up to her aunt. Antony himself had mostly ignored Catherine, escaping from her presence as often as she had come to visit Mansfield. The last time he had seen her and she had laid eyes on him was years ago.

One thing he knew for sure: it was high time that she learn where her place was.

He reached her door and knocked firmly.

"Kindly go away," he heard a bossy voice from inside say.

"I will not!" he said loudly. "I suggest you open this door at once or I shall open it myself!" He waited for the response and eventually heard an exaggeratedly loud groan before footsteps began to make their way towards the door. It opened.

"Yes?" said the Lady Catherine in a bored tone. He pushed past her and into the room, ignoring her protests.

"You have no right!" she finally managed to splutter.

"I have every right!" he said firmly. "You may not remember me, Lady Catherine, for the last time you saw me, I was much younger. I do believe you told me there was "no hope" for me."

He watched as recognition began to settle upon her features. Her entire demeanor changed.

"Oh, King Antony!" she simpered. "I do so apologize for my rather...rude welcoming." She curtsied. "I do so hope you will forgive me!"

"I do not care one way or another," he said coldly. "It is a different matter which I have come to speak to you about."

"Of course, Sire!" she said, seating herself primly (or in Antony's opinion, as primly as an elderly spinster as thin as a rail can sit) on the chaise lounge and smiling at him. "What can I do for you?" She attempted to sit straighter. "Meredith!" she called. "Fetch us some wine."

He knew she would attempt to gain his favor so that he would approve of her moving in with her sister.

It only made him disgust her more.

"Do not patronize me," he snapped. "I do not wish for wine." He turned as Meredith entered the room. She seemed to start in surprise at seeing him there and he watched as she quickly turned away, but not quickly enough. He saw the bruise on her cheek, plain as day.

He almost gave Lady Catherine one to match it, but managed to restrain himself.

"Meredith," he said, putting on a calm front. "You are dismissed. Your family is with Isabella; I assume you wish to see them?"

"Wait a minute!" said Catherine, unable to bow to him when it came to matters involving her servant. "She has work to do!"

He turned a cold gaze on the woman sitting before him. "I believe you will find that she does not. She will no longer serve as your maid."

"Nonsense!" snorted Catherine, holding her head high. "Meredith! Get back to work! Immediately!"

"Leave, Meredith," he said, calmly.

With one final hesitant glance at him, she scurried from the room.

Catherine turned an indignant gaze upon Antony. "Very well. You've rejected my attempts at being welcoming as well as robbed me of my maid. What did you wish to speak with me about, King Antony?"

He glared at her from where he was standing, crossing his arms. He noted with satisfaction that she looked a bit intimidated at the site of him standing there, angry, in chainmail and with a sword at his side. "You mistreated your maid."

"I did not!"

"Then kindly explain her bruise."

"She misbehaved! How was I supposed to respond!" She crossed her own skinny arms and glared at him sullenly from her couch.

"She sought a break from your constant demands, as would I  had her situation been my own."

"Well I never..."

"Any servants under my command are never to be treated in such a way. Am I clear?"  he questioned her, his voice dangerously low.

"I suppose," she scoffed. "Although I don't agree."

He came to stand directly in front of her. "I really care very little if you agree or not. Although I admit I do take comfort in knowing what will happen if this sort of incident ever occurs again under the roof of my palace."

"What is that?" she asked, her voice shaking a bit beneath her strong facade.

"I will make absolutely sure that you never set foot within this palace or its grounds again. Ever." He paused, letting his words sink in. "Do you understand?"

She nodded her head, somewhat jerkily.

"Another thing we don't agree about..." he said, calmly.

"What is that?" she asked bitterly.

"You seem to have invited yourself to stay here permanently."

"I didn't invite myself," she snapped. "My sister has allowed it. She wishes it. Ask her."

He turned to face her. "I'm afraid that this is not your sister's palace. If it were Mansfield, I would have no say over her decision. As this is my palace, it is to me that you must come for approval."

"Well then?"

"My answer is no."

"But Therese will be very upset! She wishes to have her older sister with her!"

"Therese has been at your mercy for years. I have watched, since I was a child, you bully and manipulate your younger sister into doing whatever it was you wished! I will no longer allow you to treat my aunt in such a way, nor will I allow you to speak about my cousin, Isabella, your own niece, in the way that you do currently."

He paused, studying the effect that his words were having on her. She was avoiding his gaze, her expression furious, her face mottled with anger.

"Now," he finally said. "You will stay your visit as normal, but you will remain no longer than that. I am sure that my aunt may desire your presence at the winter gala she plans on hosting. You may remain here until the day after and then you will leave. Do I make myself understood?"

"Yes, Sire," she said, sounding defeated.

"Very well then," he said, straightening. "I expect that, now that we both know where things stand, your visit might be a bit smoother? You may start by apologizing to Meredith, your former lady's maid."

"Fine," she said, her expression kept straight with an effort.

"Good, good," he said, smiling down at her.

He made his way to the door before turning briefly.

"Good day, Lady Catherine," he said, bowing.

He left the room, closing the door firmly behind him and smiling to himself as he strode down the hallway.