Chapter 11
Ciara felt as if her heart was going to break. Ramit was officially married, although the ceremony had been done in secret, since their little daughter, Nadia, had entered the world over a year ago. Maggie seemed to be taking to palace life easily and Ciara’s brother looked so happy!
Ciara had gotten to know Maggie and found her to be a delight. The woman seemed to be a bit nervous in her new role, but she was highly intelligent. She’d handle the transition well. Plus, Ramit was around to help her get through the more difficult aspects of becoming a public figure.
Ramit had asked Ciara to help Maggie transition to a more public role, but Ciara wasn’t sure she was the best person to advise anyone on anything. With her brutal self-flagellations, it was a challenge for her to even get out of bed in the morning lately.
But tonight, Maggie was being presented to the world. It was her first official ball and Ramit looked so damn proud, the medals attached to his chest might just pop off.
“Are you ready?” Ciara whispered to Maggie as she reached her place behind her sister-in-law. “Tonight is a smaller gathering than usual, just to ease you into your new role.” She rubbed Maggie’s arm, trying to reassure her. “You’ll be fine.”
Maggie grimaced, but straightened her shoulders. “I think I’m ready,” she whispered back. “Any last words of advice?”
“Don’t laugh,” Ciara offered. “And don’t look anyone in the eye. Look at their foreheads. It’s a lot easier. Plus, it confuses the person receiving the gaze. They won’t be sure if you’re looking at them or not, so their mind is focused on processing that thought instead of trying to ask questions.”
Maggie turned, her mouth falling open in surprise. But before she could reply, Ramit stepped up and kissed her. “You’re beautiful!” he told her. “Everyone is going to love you.”
She beamed and Ciara watched as Maggie leaned her head gently against Ramit’s shoulder. The moment was short, but sweet and Ciara wondered if…?
“Stop it!” she whispered to herself.
Before Ramit could turn and ask her what she meant, the double doors to the ballroom opened. Ramit and Maggie’s party was in full swing! The guests had been steadily arriving for the past hour and the palace ballroom was filled with colorfully dressed women and men in formal tuxedos or the formal dress of their culture.
Ciara waited for Ramit and Maggie to step out to the top of the stairs. She smothered a smile when Maggie inched closer to Ramit as the hundreds of flashes from dozens of cameras exploded. Ramit waited at the top of the stairs, not moving. The couple looked dazzling as they smiled politely at the crowd.
Jealousy washed over her when her older brother lowered his head and whispered something in Maggie’s ear. She turned and smiled up at him, then nodded her agreement. It was such a tender moment between the couple that Ciara wanted to turn around and run away from this public circus. However, she’d spent too many days over the past two weeks in her room, admonishing herself for falling for Falk. She’d known that he was a dictatorial bastard. She’d told herself over and over that her personality and his could never mesh well.
But she’d fallen into bed with him with barely a second thought. Tonight, Ciara knew that she would have to pay the price. Taking a deep breath, she turned away from her brother and his adorable wife. They looked so perfect together; Maggie’s dark hair and pale skin were the perfect foil to Ramit’s black hair and darker skin. And they were both so obviously in love that it almost hurt to watch.
Ciara waited until Ramit and Maggie finished with the photographers before she made her own entrance. It was much less dramatic since she refused to allow her name to be announced. Tonight was about Ramit and Maggie. No one needed to even know that she was here. Yes, she had to walk down the stairs into the ballroom. But she wasn’t going to make a big deal about her entrance.
In the past, she’d entered the room on her brother’s arm. But Maggie now took that place and Ciara didn’t give a whit about losing that place of “honor”. It was more of a pain in the neck than any sort of “honor”.