Chapter 44
Our driver turned onto the castle grounds, the wheels crunching over cobblestone as the coach jolted forward.
Cynthia had insisted on riding separately and still hadn’t breathed a word about the ball gown and glass shoes that had mysteriously appeared.
The gates stood flung open in welcome, and a line of guards stood at attention along the sweeping path.
Coach after coach rattled past, girls leaning halfway out the windows, eyes wide as they craned for their first glimpse of the castle ablaze with golden light.
I didn’t look ahead like the others. My stomach churned with unease, nerves bubbling up until I thought I might be sick.
What on earth had I been thinking, agreeing to come?
It wasn’t the fear of people gawking at my scarred face.
Mother had applied powders and creams with the precision of a master painter until the girl staring back from the looking glass looked almost like the one I used to be.
I wore one of Comfort’s gowns, a shade too bright for my usual taste, and borrowed shoes that pinched the sides of my wide feet.
Outwardly, I could pass as composed and calm but inwardly, I was falling apart.
What haunted me wasn’t the potential of strangers’ stares.
It was Curtis. What would he say? What would he think after so much silence between us?
Would he be happy to see me? Not that it mattered.
He was engaged to Aria now. I reminded myself firmly that I wasn’t here to rekindle anything.
I was here for closure and to apologize.
He should be free of any shadow of blame, that was all.
Still, I smoothed down my hair nervously.
It had finally grown long again, spilling past my shoulders.
Familiar, but different, just as I was now.
In the distance, I spotted a vast crowd of girls all jostling against each other at the foot of the stairs.
It would be the largest crowd I’d been around since before Father’s death.
Almost without thinking, I snapped open my fan and raised it to shield my face.
Mother reached out and pressed it down gently, tucking my hair back behind my ear so my whole face—scars and all—was visible.
She smiled warmly and nodded out the window.
“That grove of trees there is where your father proposed to me.”
Comfort and I both strained to look. A small pond lay nestled between the trees, lily pads floating like tiny crowns across the water.
A stone bench sat at its edge, half-hidden in tall grass.
Wildflowers speckled the ground with bursts of color.
It didn’t take much imagination to picture a younger Mother perched on that bench, cheeks flushed, as Father knelt before her.
I squeezed Mother’s hand. Her chin trembled, though she tried to disguise it. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, and Comfort nodded in agreement.
Mother blinked quickly, then pointed again, her voice deliberately bright. “And over there is where Truly fell off a horse on her twelfth birthday.”
I couldn’t help a laugh, remembering it vividly.
Curtis and I had been racing, reckless and fast, and he had cleared a hedge easily.
My horse balked at the last second, pitching me headlong into the brambles.
My arms and legs had stuck up like broken twigs until Curtis, doubled over with laughter, had hauled me free.
Curtis. My breath caught. Soon I would see him again. Soon I would speak the words I’d rehearsed all afternoon, complete with a heartfelt apology and a forced congratulations on his engagement, as well as a desperate plea for forgiveness for having abandoned him when he needed me most.
Our carriage clattered forward, stopping and starting as the line ahead bottlenecked at the castle’s grand entrance. Music swelled with each turn of the wheels, rolling out of the great hall in warm, jubilant waves.
I forced my gaze toward the guards flanking the path.
Their faces blurred into anonymity until I spotted one I knew, an old dancing partner of Comfort’s.
I nudged her, and she glanced out, cheeks flushing as pink as her gown.
She waved shyly, though the guard didn’t so much as flicker an eyelash in acknowledgment. Comfort giggled anyway.
And then our carriage came to a halt and it was our turn.
Mother and Comfort descended the carriage steps with practiced grace, skirts swishing as they joined the stream of corseted figures climbing the immense staircase.
I hesitated. My throat tightened. For years, I had hidden from gatherings like this, afraid of every sideways glance and of every whisper.
The thought of hundreds of eyes, of glittering chandeliers and swirling gowns and my own face on display, nearly rooted me to the ground.
But I thought of Curtis’s letters. His words had reached across years of silence and found me. If I turned back now, I would regret it forever.
So I drew in as deep a breath as my corset would allow, lifted my chin, and stepped out of the carriage, following after my mother and sister.
The castle doors opened before us, spilling me into a world of brilliance.
It was even more beautiful than I remembered.
Flowers spilled from tall crystal vases, their fragrance mingling with the many perfumes wafting through the air.
Oil paintings of kings and queens immortalized in gilded frames lined the corridor.
I had passed this hallway countless times as a child, but never had the colors seemed so sharp, nor the brushstrokes so alive.
My slippers sank into the plush purple carpet as I trailed behind clusters of giggling girls, each breathlessly chattering about Prince Hubert.
I almost smiled, remembering how stiffly he used to dance, as though afraid joy itself might be improper.
Perhaps he had changed. Time had changed so much else.
The ballroom doors loomed before me. For one trembling instant, I nearly turned back. My body screamed to flee, to take a walk in the garden, to hide among the shadows. But then another wave of girls pressed from behind, and I was swept into the light.