x
“So, how’s it going?” Theresa asked, moving up to walk beside me as we rounded the corner. I gave her a weary smile, too mentally exhausted from the afternoon to waste any thought on wondering why the hallway next to my room was empty when the palace was teeming with guests.
“Well enough, I guess. Most of the nobility are being very careful not to do or say anything that would offend Chevalier, just like you said, but they’re also watching for me to make a mistake, just like Clavis and Nokto said.” I sighed and added, “And the royalty don’t care about offending Chevalier at all. It seems like they’re testing me at every turn - especially Gilbert.”
Theresa screwed her face up in a scowl. “He’s still bothering you?”
I shook my head. “It’s not that bad. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Isn’t that what you thought last time?”
I pursed my lips and turned back to Julius and Byron as Theresa unlocked my door. “If you two want to take a quick break, maybe get something to eat-”
“We won’t be that long,” Theresa interrupted me. “Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. And you know they’re not leaving you unguarded.”
“Well, maybe just one of you can go? And get something for whoever stays?” I tried again.
“We’ll be fine, Princess Ivetta,” Julius said, a rare smile cracking his stony facade.
“Come on,” Theresa laughed, grabbing my hand and pulling me into my room. “They’ll get a break when you’re dancing with Chevalier.”
Funny how that one sentence filled me to bursting with energy.
“How do you know he’ll dance with me?” I asked, shedding my gloves and kicking my shoes off as Theresa shut the door behind us. “You said he’s never danced at a ball before.”
“He’s never had a reason to dance at a ball before,” she replied, her green eyes sparkling. “How are your feet?”
“Tired, but they don’t hurt. I should be fine to dance,” I said, padding into the bathroom in my silk stockings. I stopped and stared at the toilet, sighing in frustration. “Theresa…”
“I’m on it,” she said, untying the laces at my back.
“Thank you. I really don’t understand why I had to get all dressed up first thing in the morning when the ball isn’t until evening.”
“Don’t ask me,” she said. “I can’t make heads or tails of upper class rules. Let me know when you’re ready.”
She left the bathroom, and I stepped out of the dress.
“It’s not just you, though,” she called from the bedroom. “Every other noblewoman, queen, princess, and whatever else went through all the fuss this morning, too, and they’re all freshening up before the ball right now, just like you are. I think you just need to touch up your lipstick and you’ll be ready to go. You might even beat the princes to the ballroom.”
“That was a long parade,” I said, washing my hands. “You can come back in.”
“They must have gone up and done every street in the city,” Theresa agreed. “I’m so glad you didn’t spill on this dress.”
“Did you find something for that viscountess?” I asked, stepping back into the layers of green silk and gauze.
“A new dress, yes. A new man, no.”
“I can’t believe he spilled his wine on her.”
“I can. He was drunk before he sat down at the banquet. Must’ve brought his own booze.”
We moved out to the bedroom, where I sat at the vanity and Theresa looked over the beauty products the makeup ladies left behind, her fingers hovering over each tube, compact, and vial until she found the red lipstick. The rest of my makeup had held up well throughout the day, and the tight braids Yves wove into my hair were still in place, too.
“Pretend you’re kissing Chevalier,” Theresa instructed with a mischievous smirk. I glared at her, and she giggled. “Come on. Pucker up.”
Lipstick refreshed, I pulled my gloves back on, stepped into my shoes, and returned to the hallway, where Julius and Byron were waiting patiently. I didn’t know where my other ten guards were, but I knew none of them got a break, either. Twelve highly trained knights stuck following me around all the time. And today, all of them, all day. I felt bad for them.
“You don’t have to come with me,” I told Theresa, who had resumed her proper position beside and slightly behind me.
“I’m not missing this,” she replied. “And what if you want champagne or something?”
I looked back at her sparkling eyes and shook my head. “You think he’ll dance with me right away?”
Her smile widened.
“I really wish you would tell me,” I said.
“You’re about to find out,” she teased.
The elaborate ballroom doors were open to the guests trickling in, although, judging by the crowd, most of the guests had already arrived. I scanned the brightly lit room, taking it all in with a smile. Stealing glances when I was a maid and taking the time to really drink it in as a princess were two entirely different things. The splendid ball gowns I’d seen throughout the day were now flowers swishing around the ankles of women walking about on the arms of sharply dressed men. Champagne was flowing, glasses were clinking - and then the guards interrupted my reverie by announcing my name.
I still wasn’t used to that.
“Princess Ivetta Romanov.” My title and my last name, repeated more times today than I’d ever heard them in the entire month since I’d learned them for the first time. Eyes turned to me, and I kept my chin high and my smile bright, grateful for the familiar faces of Chevalier’s brothers scattered around the room. Leon waved me over to him, holding court in his usual jovial manner - amidst a crowd booming with laughter, a glass in his hand.
“Welcome back,” I said, the smile on my face as genuine as the warmth in Leon’s amber eyes.
“Sorry it took so long,” he said, wearing his usual amiable smile. “Although from what I hear, you’ve been doing pretty well for yourself.”
“I managed.”
He laughed. “Managed. Yeah.” He took a sip of his champagne, and then his eyes slid down me in a way that made heat rush to my cheeks. “That’s some dress you’re wearing.”
I dropped my eyes to my skirts, flustered by that look. The compliment was one I’d heard in one form or another throughout the afternoon, but nobody had looked at me like that, and I certainly hadn’t expected that from Leon.
“O-oh, thank you.”
“Don’t you dare!” Yves shouted. I looked up just in time to see Leon’s hand, hovering inches above my head, swatted away by Yves. Leon laughed and dropped his hand to his side again.
“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his widening grin.
“Don’t even joke about something like that,” Yves said, his bright blue eyes flashing. “Ruining a woman’s hair at the beginning of a ball - and it’s Ivetta’s first ball, too. You’re supposed to be an adult.”
I could just picture a cat bristling and swishing its tail with irritation as Yves continued his lecture, and I covered my mouth to hide my giggle. Leon met my eyes, shrugged, and ruffled Yves’ hair.
“Why you-”
“Now, now, behave yourselves,” Jin said, putting a hand on Yves’ shoulder and pulling him back from Leon. “We can’t have Ivetta showing you up for the undisciplined brats you are.”
“You’re one to talk, you old pervert,” Yves grumbled, smoothing his honey-blonde hair.
Jin shrugged. “I know what I like. And I gotta say, Leon is right. That dress is a knockout. If Chevalier doesn’t get here soon, I may have to steal your first dance.”
Warmth rushed to my cheeks again, and I was suddenly very grateful for the gauze rose covering the center of my chest. Jin’s roving gaze was embarrassing enough without an unobstructed view.
“I’d like to see a little leg myself,” Clavis intoned, joining us with a glass of orange juice in his hand and a smile on his lips that only added to my discomfort. “Ever think about slipping into a maid uniform again, just for old time’s sake?”
“Ugh, you guys are the worst!” Yves proclaimed, stepping in front of me protectively. “Can’t you see how uncomfortable you’re making her feel?”
Leon laughed. “Yeah, as if it doesn’t turn you on, too. I know you like the covered up look. It’s hitting all our buttons. Except you, Clavis.”
This was officially the most embarrassing moment of my life - or the most embarrassing one I could think of, since I was too mortified to think past this moment. Yves was spluttering an attempted denial that sounded much more like an admission, Clavis was shrugging and saying something about my dress suiting him just fine, Leon and Jin were laughing at Yves, and I wanted to disappear.
“That’s enough,” Licht said, his commanding voice cutting through the chaos. “Come on, Ivetta. Chevalier will deal with them later.”
I was happy to follow him away from his rowdy brothers, although keeping my head high while knowing my cheeks were flaming red was difficult. He led me to a spot on the edge of the crowd, closer to the main doors, which were now closed. I wished he’d taken me to a corner behind a pillar. Or back to my room. Somewhere away from the hundreds of eyes I’d felt on me all afternoon.
“Thank you, Licht,” I said, my relief escaping in a single whoosh of breath. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
He shrugged, but the motion seemed forced, as if he was trying to appear relaxed even though he was wound tight. Looking closer, he was tight. Tense. Every inch of him was tense, and his crimson eyes were dark and closed-off.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice cold and curt. “Just stay here.”
“Why?” I asked, but he was already walking away, his broad shoulders ram-rod straight. I bit my lip, remembering what Theresa said about how he never attended parties or even had an annual birthday party. The rumors had to be right. Something must have happened on his birthday, something horrible that still held him in a vice grip.
“Princess Ivetta?”
I turned around to see a beautiful blonde woman approaching me, tall and full-figured, with gorgeous hazel eyes. Arianna Ricci. I’d successfully avoided any interaction with her until now, and I thought she’d been avoiding me, too. Unease tugged at my mind. Her smile was fake, and her haughty gaze measured me against some invisible standard. Maybe her.
Probably her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess Arianna,” I said, forcing a smile to my face and inclining my head briefly. It wasn’t technically necessary, since we both had the same status, but if a simple gesture of respect would ease the thick tension in the air, then I needed to do it.
It didn’t.
If anything, it made the tension worse. Palpable. Weighing down my shoulders, making it harder for me to hold them straight and meet those cold hazel eyes.
“I can’t say the same,” she said bluntly, peering down her nose at me. “You may have fooled everybody else, but you’re still just a maid playing dress-up.”
It had been a while since I’d felt like slapping somebody.
“Arianna-”
“Princess Arianna,” she interrupted, enunciating each syllable as if I was a child who couldn’t understand her.
“Princess Arianna,” I corrected myself, maintaining my sweet smile through a herculean effort. “All of this came as a surprise to me, too, but I assure you, Chevalier, Sariel, and Gilbert have all verified it.”
“Hmph.” She twirled her glass of champagne as she regarded me. “Yes, with a journal that supposedly belonged to your dead father appearing at just the right time to legitimize your…relationship with Chevalier. But it’s one thing to be a prince’s lover. It’s another thing entirely to be a queen. A king must be discerning in his choice for that role.” She smirked, took a sip of her champagne, and looked me over again. “Fortunately for you, Rhodolite allows its king to marry as many women as he chooses. You’ll have to put in a lot of hard work, but it’s possible Chevalier will allow you to continue…entertaining him.”
Oh, how I wanted to grab that glass from her and splash it in her smug face. Every barbed word made her meaning clear. She thought I was a cheap slut who faked my background to get my claws in Chevalier, and nothing I said or did would convince her otherwise. I knew that, but I also didn’t know what to say to her.
“It’s just too bad he already rejected you,” Nokto’s silvery voice said for me. He emerged from the crowd to stand at Arianna’s side, wearing a condescending smirk.
“How dare you-” she spluttered.
“Of course, you don’t have to take my word for it,” he continued nonchalantly. “We have an interesting tradition here in Rhodolite. The new king performs the first dance at the coronation ball with the woman he intends to make his queen.” He shifted his gaze to me. “It’s as good as a proposal.”
Suddenly, the room was spinning around me.
“You…you don’t mean…”
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you,” he interrupted my faltering words, glancing back at Arianna’s shocked expression. “But under the circumstances, I don’t think Chevalier will mind. As long as you don’t faint, that is.”
I took a deep breath to prevent that from happening, and to ground my whirling thoughts. It all made sense now. The secretive smiles when I mentioned dancing at the ball. Theresa and Belle squealing and jumping up and down outside the glass display windows the day we went shopping. Nokto offering to teach me to dance.
Nokto offered to teach me to dance.
Even though he loved me - because he loved me - he taught me to dance so Chevalier could propose to me.
“The music is starting, Ivetta,” he said softly, tilting my chin up with a single slender finger. “Chin up, back straight.”
Staring up at his wistful smile and his dark crimson eyes, I realized what ‘bittersweet’ really meant.
“Thank you, Nokto.”
He put a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face the door. “Just don’t make me look bad,” he said lightly. “I have a reputation to uphold, you know."
ns 15.158.61.23da2
