It was a pleasant sensation, thick and relaxing. His words warmed my heart, causing a deep purr to rumble from my chest. “I have never wanted wealth or power as much as I wanted her.” I saw her face through the window of her carriage…” “I saw the procession of the late king’s consort when she journeyed to the capital for her wedding. “Aye.” A look of longing washed across his handsome face. “Have you never seen the nobles riding by in their grand processions and wanted that life for yourself?” Who among us does not secretly believe he is meant for a better life than the one he was dealt? Despite my rise from child of traitors to consort of the king, I still imagined I should have been born a goddess, with no more responsibility than to lounge about on satin pillows all day and be admired for my beauty and grace. “Have you never thought you were destined for a life better than this?” It was a safe question. The miller’s son would not be easy to convince. Had I my human features, I would have frowned. Certainly, my mother had some noble blood in her veins, but my father was a miller. There is no way a commoner such as I could become one of the aristocracy. “Just because you can talk, I don’t suppose it means you have to tell the truth. You will have money, a title and respect.” All it would take was the right plan and a little effort.

If men could fall by their own actions, could they not rise by them? Or by the actions of others? I saw no reason why the son of a miller could not become husband to a queen. My parents had been born amidst the highest echelons of society, and fallen far through their mistakes. If he had been of noble birth, I would have thought him the perfect patsy for the princess to marry.īut what had birth to do with nobility? Unlike many of my class, I was not so haughty as to believe that having been born of a noble bloodline was proof the gods favored me above all others. He was handsome but unassuming, and too mild tempered to fight his brothers for his share of the mill. “You should buy me boots because I was sent to help you.” My eyes fell upon the two books beside his pallet, and my memory recalled the words of Julian’s brother, That boy has always gotten above himself.

I could not risk the chance that he would flee when he learned I had an ogre for an enemy. I wanted his help-his hands and height and strength. I considered telling him the truth but decided against it. “You should buy me boots because…” I paused, casting about for a good reason. “Why should I be the one to buy your boots? You’re not my cat.

Cat's Tale by Bettie Sharpe