Chapter 24 #2
We laugh as we leave the parlor, arm in arm, my chest much lighter now that my best friend is finally in on my big, sexy royal secret.
We walk back into the ballroom together, and several eyes flit over in my direction.
I remember Trixie’s instructions from earlier and don’t let my gaze falter.
No weakness. My employer’s half-sister is watching me with pursed lips from the circle of stunning women near the dance floor.
I fix her with my best boss girl stare as Trixie peels off to find her intended mark, and Margaret pulls me with her towards the drinks table.
“Quick,” my friend hisses, tugging my arm harder and glancing over her shoulder.
“What?” I peek too, trying to see what has her all in a tizzy.
I spot Friedrich and Miles across the room, watching our every move.
The prince raises a questioning eyebrow, and I give a slight nod.
He lifts his glass in understanding, and the fact that we can communicate without even a word makes my heart flutter a bit.
It’s insane to me how connected we are after such a short time.
Miles flashes me a cheeky little smirk that I’m sure means mischief.
Margaret does another subtle peek behind her as she orders more wine for the two of us. She’s not delicate or demure as she throws back half the glass in one go.
“What’s going on?”
“Trying to keep Miles Njeri at bay,” she grumbles, winding through the crowd again.
Just then, it clicks. “Oh, my god. Didn’t you two date back in college?”
“Briefly.”
As much as I want to press for more—she did just drag out a huge secret from me—I know prodding her does nothing.
It’s getting close to midnight, and a few people are still dancing.
Most have broken off into conversational groups.
Younger men of the court are interspersed through the room, many taking their own shots at the women in attendance.
I catch sight of Friedrich’s flirty brother in the corner with two of the prospective princesses.
He’s animated and they’re laughing, making any attempt to lay a hand on him.
His charm does seem to be quite irresistible to most ladies.
Waiters begin milling about with trays of champagne as the clock ticks closer to the New Year. I’m reaching for a glass when it’s snatched right out from under my fingers.
Ice blue eyes glare daggers at me, and Juliette wrinkles her delicate nose.
“Miss Sumner,” she simpers in direct contradiction to the sneer on her face. “What a surprise to see you here.”
I bend in a half-curtsey. She outranks many of the people here, and as she just casually pointed out, I’m the commoner in a room full of nobles.
So despite my passing contempt for the woman who usually pays me no more mind than a piece of trash on the street, I must keep to the protocols of nobility.
“Lady Juliette,” I say as I straighten. “A pleasure to see you. Your dress is lovely.”
“Cut the shit,” she hisses, clutching my arm in her thin fingers, her painted nails digging in as she pulls me close so no one else can listen in.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but Prince Friedrich is mine.
This whole game is a farce, he knows where he belongs, and it’s not with some common harlot from Hicktown, USA. ”
Anger bubbles below my skin, and I curse my overactive blushing reflex. “Juliette, I—”
“It’s Lady Juliette to you, Aurelia. Now, back off the prince, or so help me, I will destroy you.”
She drops my arm and floats away on a sea of light blue satin, twisting her way effortlessly through the crowded ballroom like nothing happened.
I can’t keep from watching her, stunned to the spot by her contemptuous threat.
She stops periodically to talk to someone, keeping her eyes fixed elsewhere at all times, but I can’t see exactly where.
Her intentions become clear as the last few minutes of the year begin to wind down.
My blood boils as she slips a hand around Friedrich’s arm, casting me the briefest glance before tilting her face up to him.
I can see her batting her eyelashes from here.
An odd gnawing sensation grips my chest, and my pulse is pounding in my ears.
I do my best to school my face, but I’ve never been particularly good at hiding my emotions.
I hope everyone attributes the redness in my cheeks to the alcohol.
Juliette says something to him, a conspiratorial smile on her lips, and he gives her a small smile in return. It’s one I recognize from his interactions with the press. A smidge of the tightness in my heart releases, but it doesn’t seem to have deterred Juliette from her task.
Someone begins the countdown as the year draws to a close.
Ten.
Friedrich pats Juliette’s hand.
Nine.
She drops her hand from his arm as he steps away.
Eight.
Her lips form a pout, and she shoots me another acidic glare.
Seven.
Friedrich turns and reaches into his pocket.
Six
I’m drawn away from Juliette’s scowl by the bit of black fabric poking out of the pocket of his green pants.
Five.
It’s my panties.
Four.
I thought I had forgotten them on the floor of the parlor.
Three.
My face goes molten.
Two.
I can see him typing on his phone.
ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!
My phone buzzes in the deep pocket of my gown.
Fritz:
Happy New Year, Miss Aurelia