Chapter 6
Music and laughter leak from the great hall, traveling down the marble corridor to where I wait, dressed head to toe in a scarlet gown.
The sound is ethereal, almost ghostly, as it echoes off the gray stone walls.
Everyone is here for the biggest party in decades.
It may be in my honor, but I feel very much like a lamb destined for slaughter.
One of my two guards taps his foot to the music.
The soft clink of his armor keeps time with the distant melody.
I wonder if he resents being stuck out here with me while everyone else is inside, partaking in the festivities.
We’re waiting for the music to change, the signal that it’s time to prepare for my grand entrance.
That it’s time to “meet” my royal fiancé on the dance floor.
Never mind that I’ve known Hunter since we were children.
I suppose that’s a luxury previous generations didn’t have.
I try to plaster a smile to my face, but it’s still difficult. I’m horribly distracted, as if I’m not really here. All I can think about is Grandmother and how she should be here for this day. How I’m still no closer to finding the answers I need.
Time is running out.
The music slows and the tempo shifts like the tide. The guards at my side straighten. It’s time.
Reluctantly, I walk toward the closed doors that lead into the great hall. My heart flutters in my chest like a caged bird and the edges of my vision darken, threatening to pull me under. Wouldn’t that be a surprise to the guests? An heir, lying unconscious on the ground in a pretty dress.
But when the music stops and the doors open, there’s no time to daydream about an unconscious escape. The sudden silence is deafening, broken only by the collective intake of breath from the assembled crowd.
Hundreds of eyes watch me from behind black masks, a sea of faceless observers dressed as spider webs, peacocks, celestial beings, and even hens.
This, too, is tradition. Everyone at the ball dressed as something else.
All in midnight black, with masks to make the engaged couple stand out all the more.
Not that the simple color palate stopped the revelers from sparing any expense. Silks rustle, feathers tremble with each movement, and onyx jewels catch the light. Everything is dyed black, from the finest fabrics to the powdered hair arranged with sparkling pins.
Crystal chandeliers glow overhead, making all the jewels in the room sparkle.
The effect is disorienting, like stepping into a dream world of black ice and starlight, until I see him.
Hunter is standing at the opposite end of the hall.
He’s staring at me with a comfortable smile that seems to cut through the cloud of cold, calculating faces.
We are in this together, his expression says.
While some part of me is still angry, I find it impossible to blame him. None of this is his fault. As we stare at each other from across the ballroom, my irritation slips away like melting snow on a spring day. The only way through this storm is together.
The crowd parts as Hunter makes his way toward me. He holds out his hand and I take it, grateful for a life raft in this sea of black-clad vipers. He leans in close, his warm brown eyes on mine.
“We can do this, Sienna.” His voice is low and reassuring as he squeezes my hand. He steps through the crowd, leading me to the center of the dance floor with surprising grace.
Hunter places one hand on my waist, and it’s a small relief to feel it trembling. I’m not the only one terrified under the gaze of a hundred eyes. He puts on a convincing performance, his back straight and his chin held high, but I can sense the nervous energy coursing through him.
The music starts up again, a haunting melody that seems to float through the air. Hunter leads me into the traditional marriage dance. My skirts swirl around us, a vibrant splash of scarlet against the night-black sea.
Our audience becomes a glittering blur as their masked faces meld into a dizzying kaleidoscope of black and silver. Eventually, the guests join in, their attention shifting away from us, like snowflakes blown away in a flurry—all except for one.
Hunter spins me again and my eyes land on a young man standing against a pillar, half in shadow. He’s tall with dark hair. His black tunic has silver buttons running up to his high collar.
I don’t recognize him as one of the other nobles around my age, which means he must be from outside the city of Caerwen.
He watches me with undisguised curiosity.
As our eyes meet, a shiver runs down my spine.
He lifts his mask up to his face. It’s a wolf with black fur, carved and adorned with tiny teardrop accents that glint in the light.
Hunter spins me again, the movement fluid and graceful. The room blurs once more, a whirl of midnight and candlelight. When I regain my bearings and look back to the pillar, the wolf is gone.
“You look unbelievably beautiful,” Hunter whispers into my ear, breaking my distraction.
His warm breath on my neck makes me shiver. “You look nice, too.”
He chuckles, moving me expertly through the dance. “Nice? That’s all I get after hours of being poked and prodded by a half dozen tailors? These shoes alone have caused more pain than the training courtyard ever did.”
I look down at his stiff red shoes. “Well, those are quite spectacular.”
“Ah,” he nods. “The shoes get higher praise than I do. I understand, they are remarkable … or so the cobbler told me.”
I smile, my anxiety easing away, like stepping into a warm bath.
A nearby couple bumps into us. They’re dressed as a pair of black swans. They stumble, mumbling drunken apologies before they spin away.
“Sienna,” Hunter says quietly, his voice barely audible above the swelling music. “I hope we can be friends again. More than friends. I want you to know that I plan to make you the happiest wife in the kingdom.”
I laugh at the playfulness in his eyes. “That’s a big promise for someone who has no idea what makes women happy.”
He places one hand over his heart like my barb stuck true.
“You misunderstand me, cruel one,” he says, his voice low with a hint of desire.
“Not women, plural. You. Specifically.” He pulls me close, our bodies pressing together.
The warmth of his chest seeps through the layers of crimson fabric between us.
“I will make it my business to learn exactly what makes you happy, Sienna.”
My heart flutters in my chest. I seem to have forgotten how to breathe. I laugh it off, taking a modest step back. “I look forward to watching you try.”
He smiles wickedly. This is a different Hunter from the one I remember. A brave Hunter, a confident Hunter. I’m not entirely sure what to expect from this new man in an old friend’s body, but I’m excited to find out.
With a sudden movement, he grabs my waist, and we spin around the dance floor. My heavy skirts billow out around us, giving us extra momentum. The fabric catches the light, shimmering like liquid fire as we move. People around us chuckle at the youthful addition to the choreography.
Hunter nods at one man, who applauds in appreciation. My cheeks are flushed, and not just from the dancing. The air around us seems charged with electricity as Hunter returns us to the traditional steps. Our bodies move in perfect synchronization, as if we’ve been dancing together all our lives.
“In all seriousness,” he says. “I think it would do us some good to give the people what they want.”
“And what’s that?” I raise an eyebrow.
“A gorgeously romantic royal love story.”
I laugh so hard I snort. A nearby couple smirks at me.
Hunter leans toward them. “Isn’t my betrothed charming?” He winks.
The man stutters as if he doesn’t know how to respond to a royal couple. Hunter saves them by whisking me away to another part of the dance floor.
“Smooth,” I say, somewhat breathless.
“So, what do you say?” he asks.
“To what?”
“To my romantic proposal.”
“Your romantic proposal to be romantic?”
“Exactly.”
My stomach is aflutter. Am I flirting with my longtime childhood friend-turned fiancé? I suppose I am. But …
“If we’re going to be friends again,” I say. “If we’re going to make an honest try for this …” I’m not sure what to call it. Forced marriage? Friendship turned more than friendship?
Hunter nods. “This once in a lifetime love story that will make everyone jealous. Mhm, yes, please go on.”
I roll my eyes and he pulls me a little closer.
“If we’re going to put on a show of the greatest romance in a century, then I’m going to need one teeny-tiny favor.” I hold my fingers up and make a pinching sign.
“Oh?” He spins me and the suddenness takes me by surprise. A genuine giggle escapes my throat.
Nearby couples give each other knowing glances as Hunter spins me back toward his chest.
I look deep into his eyes. “Then I’m going to need you to cover for me.”
“Cover?” His eyebrows pull together in brief confusion. “As in, offer a distraction? What for, darling?”
“Subterfuge.”
He dips me low, his mouth is a whisper away from my lips. “I’d love to.”
He pulls me back up to my feet. “I think I’ll need something from you, too. To make this convincing.” He holds one of my hands as we glide forward in formation with the other dancers.
“And what’s that?” I ask as we bring our bodies back together.
“A kiss.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Are you bribing me for affection, Hunter? That doesn’t seem like you.”
“Not at all, darling.” He does a silly spin himself. I cover a laugh with my hand like a polite court lady. He returns to grab my waist. “It’s all a part of the illusion.”
“Hmm …” I try to smother my grin. “I suppose if it’s for the cause.”
“Oh, I assure you, it is.” He nods earnestly. “But it will have to look convincing.” He adds, as if an afterthought.
“I think I can handle that.”
The song ends, its final notes lingering in the air. While everyone claps politely, I pull Hunter toward me, catching him off guard. The sudden movement causes a ripple of surprise through the nearby crowd. Dozens of black masks tilt in our direction.
I throw my arms around Hunter’s neck, the fabric of his crimson tunic smooth under my fingers.
Without hesitation, I press my lips to his with as much conviction as I can muster.
His scent envelops me, a heady mix of fresh linen, citrus, and something uniquely Hunter.
It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, his body tense with surprise.
But then he softens, melting into the kiss.
He wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me closer, while the other tangles in my long auburn hair.
The sensation sends goosebumps prickling along my skin.
The surrounding crowd grows quiet, the sudden hush falling over the ballroom like a blanket of snow. The only sounds are the soft rustle of fabric and the distant tinkling of crystal as chandeliers sway above us. It feels as though time has stopped. Like even the room is holding its breath.
Kissing Hunter is nothing like the daydreams I had when we were growing up.
His mouth is sweet, with a hint of champagne, likely sipped to bolster his courage before the ball.
His lips are soft, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away.
And his body is warm against mine, solid and reassuring.
This is easy, easier than I ever imagined. What started as performance for our audience slips into something unexpectedly very real.
The kiss feels like the home I’ve always longed for—comfortable and safe.
When he slowly pulls away, I’m almost disappointed. He’s looking at me, his face in mild shock. Then he puts a hand to my cheek and smiles. The expression transforms him, making him look younger, more like the boy I grew up with.
All around us, I start to notice the quiet whispers and nervous giggles.
The sound ripples through the crowd like a gentle breeze.
I break my gaze away from him and meet the hundreds of eyes watching us from behind black masks.
The array is dizzying—glittering black rams with curled horns, peacocks with intricate feathered designs, delicate hares with long ears, serene doves, and sinuous serpents.
The entire animal kingdom seems to be represented, all dyed with midnight.
But what strikes me most is their expressions. They smile kindly, in a way they’ve never smiled at me before. I’m so used to being the scorned one. The regretful, rebellious heir. The mistake. I’ve never experienced outward approval like this. Not since Grandmother.
Hunter was right. The world loves a love story.
I look back at Hunter and he winks. Then he faints flat out on the dance floor.