Chapter 22 #2
He grabbed two more glasses from a passing tray and downed one. His thoughts were getting too sentimental if he was agreeing that Ivy deserved joy. Something had most definitely shifted in the universe, because nothing made sense anymore.
“Rainyyy!” Navy’s little voice chimed from his left, pulling him out of his spiralling before the frost could settle around his heart.
She stood beside Snow, who gave him an apologetic look.
“Sorry,” Snow said. “I didn’t know. I thought it was suspicious she hadn’t arrived yet. She enjoys a dramatic entrance, but she’s rarely this late.”
“It’s Ivy,” Rain said, hugging his twin. “Ever the performer. You look beautiful, by the way—now that both eyes are done and those things are out of your hair.”
Snow nudged him.
“And you look far to put together for someone as intoxicated as you are. Is there significance to her wearing purple?”
“I believe she’s breaking off our betrothal,” he whispered. Snow nodded, unsurprised. “A bold move, a dangerous one at that.”
“Rainy, why aren’t you telling me I’m beautiful like Snow?” Navy pouted.
Rain gasped dramatically. “Princess, I am terribly sorry. You look absolutely stunning. In fact, I’m certain you’re the most beautiful princess here tonight.”
She beamed adorably. An idea suddenly sparked to life. One that would redeem him of Ivy’s humiliating insult. Rain dropped to one knee and held out his hand.
“Princess Navy, would you do me the grandest honour and share this dance with me?”
“What? Rain—” Snow tried to intervene, but Navy was already bouncing with excitement.
“Yes, yes, yesss!”
Rain took her hand, inhaled deeply—summoning sobriety that did not exist—and with a quick glance back at Snow, led his little sister to the dance floor.
He chose a position near the couple, who were still the only ones dancing.
The crowd watched with thinly veiled anticipation, likely expecting Rain to cause a scene. Many hoped he would.
He bowed dramatically to Navy. She squealed and stepped onto his shoes. The crowd melted into soft “aww’s.”
He began to move with her, balancing her tiny weight on his feet. He risked a glance at Ivy and Julian. They were watching, aghast and confused. Rain flashed them a perfectly fake smile.
His heart hammered, but outwardly he was the picture of confidence; dancing with his little sister beside his former betrothed and her new partner.
As the song progressed, he spun Navy, her dress fanning out as she giggled and kicked her leg like a ballerina. The room adored her.
The song ended in a dramatic flourish. Julian dipped Ivy into a show-stopping kiss, conveniently close enough for Rain to see every detail. It was intentional.
He’d expected it. It didn’t hurt the way it should have. Maybe he was too drunk. Or maybe he’d finally accepted Ivy wasn’t his.
Jay was.
He lifted Navy into his arms and dipped her in a similar manor. She threw her head back, casting a waterfall of curls to the floor as she giggled, happily swaying upside down.
The applause that followed wasn’t for Ivy and Julian—it was for Rain and Navy.
“Curtsey to your audience, princess,” he whispered, as he placed her back on her feet. She curtseyed; he bowed and the crowd erupted with glee.
Snow joined them with Erica in tow.
“It’s my turn to dance with our brother. Erica will take you for a drink, Navy.”
“Okay! I love you both lots and lots!” Navy hugged their legs and skipped off.
Rain and Snow linked hands and stepped back onto the dance floor as a slow ballad began. Others followed suit, pairing up across the dancefloor.
“Sometimes I forget how clever you are,” Snow said softly.
“I have my moments,” he replied. “Though I’m not sure how you could possibly forget.”
“Well, you also make a lot of stupid mistakes.” She smiled. “But seriously—you needed that kind of publicity. I couldn’t have planned it better. You just… did it. Effortlessly. Charismatically. Like someone who will make a great king.”
“Jee, sis, you’re going to make me cry. I’m not sober enough for this.” He teased again, not knowing what to do with the compliment.
“Absolute genius. Two questions,” she said. “First—how are you really feeling?”
“I’m fine. Don’t give me that look—I am. I need to process everything sober, but it doesn’t hurt like yesterday. Honestly… last night felt like a goodbye. I didn’t realise it then, but maybe it was meant to be our farewell fuck.”’
Snow rolled her eyes.
“I hear you. Second question—and I want full emotional detail—how annoyed is Ivy that you didn’t cause a scene? Bonus points for Julian’s reaction.”
Rain laughed. Of course she wanted intel. Snow re-positioned her hand to the cuff of his sleeve, releasing his power from her binding touch.
“She’s annoyed. Obviously. She’s throwing emotional daggers at us both. She knows we’re talking about her—there’s regret, anxiety. She’s scared. The future with me was written for her, and she’s worried she’s making a mistake choosing Julian.”
“And Julian?”
“Smug as fuck. Happy. In love. She loves him too—you saw it all over her face, right? He came down here expecting a fight, and he’s relieved I didn’t give him one. Because despite his bravado, he knows I’d kick his ass and win.”
Rain exhaled.
“So really,” he finished, “it’s a bittersweet symphony.
“I love your power. I’m glad you got it and not me, but it is extraordinary.” Snow moved closer, hugging him as the song ended. She leaned into whisper, “And I think you’re better off without this betrothal. I have a feeling there’s something better out there for you.”
Rain froze, genuinely shocked to hear her say it.
“Can I expect your support when Father finds out?” he murmured back.
Snow sighed, pulled away, squeezed his arms, and nodded. They parted, heading in opposite directions.
A server approached as Rain leaned against a draped alcove. He waved off the champagne and asked for a rum on the rocks instead. The champagne was starting to taste like fizzy regret.
His gaze drifted to Queen Virginia, who looked spectacular in a feathery pink puff of a gown.
Her crown held her hair like a scoop of ice cream.
Her husband, in a candy-cane pinstriped suit, looked utterly flustered as she lectured him about something.
Rain was about to tune into their energies—purely for entertainment—when a familiar shrill voice sliced through the crowd.
“Rain! Darling!”
Aunt Igna.
Bollocks.