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Sariel’s office was silent, save for the scratching of quills across paper. I had one corner of his desk for my use during my test. The rest was his. He had a thin sheaf of documents, several blank pieces of paper, and a thick book in front of him, which he referenced frequently as he read the documents and filled the blank sheets with his elegant cursive. We hadn’t spoken since I walked into his office and sat down to take my test. I hadn’t told him I was upset, and, if he noticed, he didn’t say.
My boiling blood cooled as the minutes turned into an hour.
I’d asked him to be hard on me, and this test was hard. There was no room in my mind for me to dwell on what Leon said. This required my full attention.
I wished I’d studied more.
The click of the latch as the door opened behind me broke my concentration. My quill slipped and left an ink blotch in the middle of a sentence. I grit my teeth in annoyance and scratched out the line. My wording wasn’t quite right, anyway.
“Prince Nokto,” Sariel said in his sonorous voice. “May I help you?”
I did my best to shut them out as I started over. This was the last question. All I needed to do was focus, write the answer on the tip of my quill, and I’d be done.
A shadow fell across the page.
“Hm. You forgot something here,” Nokto said, tapping an answer at the top of the page.
“What?” I asked, surprised. I scanned the lines again, searching for the mistake. There was none.
“Prince Nokto,” Sariel said sternly.
“You’re looking too hard,” he said, ignoring Sariel and dropping into the chair next to me.
I reread the sentence again and again. Nothing was wrong. I sighed in frustration and returned to the last question.
“Giving up so soon?” Nokto teased.
“Perhaps it would be best if you came back later. After she’s finished,” Sariel said pointedly.
“She’s almost done,” Nokto replied. “One last thing.”
I bit my tongue to stop my sharp response. He was goading me on purpose. If it weren’t for him, I’d already be done, and-
Oh. One last thing.
I finished the answer and moved my eyes and my hand back to the top of the page. There was no period at the end of the sentence he pointed out. I added it, set the quill in its inkpot, and pushed the test across the desk to Sariel.
“Thank you, Nokto.”
He shrugged lazily. “Sariel has to deduct points somewhere.”
“I will review this later,” Sariel said, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and depositing them in a desk drawer. “Prince Nokto, you had something you wished to discuss.”
I looked back at Nokto, lounging in the chair next to me. His posture was relaxed and his attire disheveled, as usual. I’d always noticed that, but now it frustrated me, since I couldn’t get away with either infraction. But he had an intrinsic elegance in every movement, too. Even the slightest gesture of his hand was graceful.
“It wouldn’t interest Ivetta,” he said, examining his fingernails with detached disinterest. “And, after that test, I’m sure you’d rather take a break, anyway.”
I sighed in frustration. Now I understood why he wasn’t looking at me. “If it’s about me, I’d rather stay.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Sariel intoned.
“Let me rephrase. I’m staying,” I said firmly.
Nokto gave a soft laugh and dropped his hand to his lap, lifting his head to look at me. “I thought you’d say that,” he said, a grin on his lips. “But just remember that I gave you the opportunity to leave.”
My heart sank. I knew what he was going to say, but I steeled myself and nodded. “Go ahead.”
He turned his crimson eyes to Sariel. “I heard a troublesome rumor at a baron’s party last night,” he said, the smile vanishing from his face. “It seems there are some among the nobility who believe we faked Ivetta’s background to legitimize her relationship with Chevalier, and that she is, in fact, nothing more than a prostitute.”
I wanted to sigh and slump back in my chair, but a princess wouldn’t do that. And I had to prove to the world that I was a princess. Sariel, however, sighed and removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“A simple rumor wouldn’t bring you to my office, so I can only assume there’s more.”
“Unfortunately,” Nokto confirmed, glancing over at me. “Those who oppose Chevalier have been quite busy digging up as much dirt as they can find. Their goal is to smear Ivetta’s name enough that he has to either give her up or abdicate the throne.”
I felt sick. Rumors about me were one thing - I’d dealt with them my entire life, and though they were painful, they were just words, and they only affected me. But it never occurred to me that someone could use me against Chevalier like this.
Sariel replaced his thin glasses over his narrow lavender eyes. “I expected as much.”
“You did?” I asked, surprised.
He nodded. “I uncovered the rumors about your mother fleeing prostitution when I investigated you, intending to make you Belle. That notion has fallen out of favor with most people, or they have at least disregarded it as a part of her past that has no bearing on the woman of character she proved herself to be, but it still lingers. And, of course, the then-Prince Chevalier’s unusual favor toward you when you were his maid encouraged the development of rumors postulating you as his cherished rose. I expected difficulties when he approached me during the gala with the truth of your background and his intention to pursue you romantically.”
“I didn’t know he did that,” I said, blushing at the thought of Chevalier telling Sariel he intended to pursue me romantically. He probably said it that way, too, in a cold, hard voice that didn’t allow for questions or dispute.
“Nobody knew. That was the point,” Sariel replied. “There was a matter he had to resolve before it was safe to reveal your background, and, in the meantime, he tasked me with doing whatever I felt was necessary to prepare Rhodolite for such an announcement. Handling the rumors was, of course, part of that. But I had no time to act before your abduction and subsequent rescue occurred, and that introduced more problems, especially since Prince Chevalier did not perform a purge this time.”
“That was quite a surprise,” Nokto commented. “We thought he’d wipe out everybody within a five-mile radius.”
“In a way, it would have been easier if he had,” Sariel said nonchalantly, as if we weren’t discussing the loss of human life. “Flandre’s soldiers were quick to spread the word about him rescuing his favorite maid. But I have prepared for this eventuality.”
The smile that spread over his face as he rested his elbows on the desk and touched his fingertips together reminded me of a cat who had just caught a mouse. I looked over at Nokto, whose sly grin bore a similar aspect.
“Is anybody going to tell me?” I asked.
“There’s a reason we leave these matters to Sariel,” Nokto said. “If I don’t miss my guess, he’s been using the rumors to our advantage by playing up your past as a commoner to improve public perception of Chevalier. Is that about it?”
“Very good. I’m glad to see you remember your lessons, Prince Nokto,” Sariel said smugly. “That is a simplified explanation, but yes. Allowing the soldiers’ story to spread humanized Prince Chevalier and increased the people’s acceptance of him when Belle named him king, and encouraging the positive rumors about his maid created a public demand to know what had happened to her. It was a simple matter to ‘accidentally’ let slip the truth that we found documents proving she was a princess after her mother died.”
“So, you didn’t disclose everything about me,” I said.
“Of course not,” Sariel replied. “An element of mystery is necessary in these affairs. I imagine many tall tales have emerged concerning your relationship with King Chevalier. But it has reached the point where your departure from the palace would cause a public outcry, so while this new rumor is distressing, it will not affect your position.”
I slumped back in the chair as a wave of relief washed over me. “Good, because I don’t know what I’d do if I had to leave.”
“As if any of us would let that happen,” Nokto said, standing up and offering me his hand. “Come on. You’re overdue for a break.”
“But - what about my lessons?” I asked, looking from his hand to Sariel.
“We’ll resume your lessons tomorrow,” he replied. “Though this isn’t a true threat, I still need to address it.”
“And you’re more than ready for the coronation ceremony,” Nokto said.
I took a deep breath, let it out, nodded, and took his hand. He pulled me to my feet and headed for the door.
“Thank you, Sariel,” I called over my shoulder.
He didn’t reply, already bent over his desk with his quill in motion. The door closed behind Nokto and me as he led me into the hallway.
“Do you really think I’m ready?” I asked him.
“Well, there is one thing, but I’m not sure you’re allowed to do it yet,” he said, giving me a sidelong glance and a smirk.
“What is it?”
“Dancing.”
I bit my lip and considered. The doctor had said no strenuous exercise until a full eight weeks had passed, and that was still six days away. But there would be dancing at the ball, and a princess should know how to dance. Even if it was just one song.
“If it’s only a few minutes, and we stop before I get tired or sore, it should be fine,” I said slowly. “But I’ll have to practice every day for it to do any good.”
Nokto chuckled. “Sometimes, you’re very predictable, Ivetta.”
I looked ahead and realized he was already leading me toward the ballroom. “So, you’ve assigned yourself as my dance teacher, then?” I asked, smiling up at him.
“Something like that.”
“I thought we were taking a break.”
He shrugged. “Keeping your nose out of a book and avoiding Chevalier sounds like a break to me.”
“Chevalier’s still asleep.”
Nokto smirked down at me. “And how do you know that?”
Did he know?
“Everybody knows he’s back to staying up late and sleeping in late,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “And he never came to the library last night, at least not while I was there, so he must have worked later than usual.”
“Hm.”
He definitely knew.
I faced straight ahead, focusing on the elaborate double doors with their floral engravings that opened onto the ballroom, wishing I wasn’t blushing as much as I knew I was. He led me through one door and toward the dark brown wood outline of a rose in the center of the lighter brown wood floor. Sunlight streamed through the wall of windows and glinted off the polished floor and the gold chandeliers hanging above us. It was as beautiful as I remembered it. He turned me to face him, and I suddenly realized we were still holding hands. I yanked my hand free as my cheeks warmed even more.
“Now you’re getting shy?” he teased, taking my right hand in his left hand and holding it up and out to my right. “Dancing requires touching,” he continued, taking my left hand and setting it on his shoulder. “Or didn’t you think about that?”
“Just - behave,” I said, flushing deeper when his right hand settled on my waist.
“You’re so cute. But you’re also too far away,” he said, pulling me closer.
“Nokto-”
“This is the basic position,” he interrupted my protest. “And there is still plenty of air between us, so you can breathe.”
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” I muttered, looking down to survey exactly how much air was between us.
“Keep your head up,” he instructed. “Your chin needs to stay level and your back straight.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a break,” I said, fixing my posture. “And if I keep my chin level, I can’t look at your face.”
He chuckled. “Level or up, according to the height of your partner. Now, stop talking and follow my lead."
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