9. Laude
Chapter 9
Laude
My temples throbbed. The air in my lungs stilled under two sets of dark, penetrating eyes. I wanted to shrivel in my seat or go back home to Giddel and climb under my thick covers where I should have been. Jaime stood, blocking Zichri’s brothers from my view. A long line of concern pressed between Jaime’s eyebrows.
Horns blared a pahm-pa-pa-pahm-pahm melody, and the attendees all stood in unison. If someone had told me a year ago that I would attend such a grand affair, I would have laughed at them. People like me didn’t attend the weddings of foreign princesses.
“I’m nervous,” I said. “Tell me this is just a fun ceremonia where the couple get to see each other for the first time in days and tomorrow they actually get married and we’re just spectators enjoying the food.”
Jaime took my hand in his and whispered. “How I wish that were true. I’m with you. The fellows are with you.”
That brought very small comfort. He could have lied to me and told me everything was all right, that the brothers hadn’t stared at me. Jaime could have cooed sweet nothings to make me forget that danger presided over the party. It was something I loved about Jaime—not the lie, but his insistence on believing in the best outcome.
I got to my feet, knees trembling and head bowed. No reason to risk eye contact. The three Prince Charmings scuffed the marble floor only an arm span in front of me. Maybe I was making a bigger deal out of this than necessary. The crowd and I sat as the princes climbed onto a podium and took their places on ostentatious chairs behind a table.
Servants in golden attire marched from the main doorways with matching long snuffers in hand. The music drifted into a whimsical movement as the servants put out several chandelier lights. All at once, the room dimmed. Three coordinated snuffs later, I was tempted to spark my finger.
Flutes tweeted a simple chorus. Another set of people marched in golden cloaks and raised their arms. Lightning bolts shot from their fingertips. My jaw must have dropped because I had assumed gifted individuals didn’t exist in Himzo. I hadn’t been able to spark my finger on my last visit. How did they?
I shot my arm out toward Jaime and smacked his jaw. “Sorry, sorry. I meant to grab your shoulder.”
He grunted and massaged his face. “Don’t worry. It was an accident.”
Clutching and unclutching my hands, I couldn’t help but swarm with guilt and a need to know what in all Agata was going on. I ripped off my glove, put my hand low, and sparked a flame. The orange light reflected off Jaime’s shocked face.
“Put that out.” Jaime flitted a glance at the royal table.
Only Zichri met my stare and raked his fingers through his hair. The ceremonia went on and on with an exhibition of jugglers followed by another of dancers until finally the double doors by our table flew open. Zichri’s sister—or who I assumed was Zichri’s sister—waited under an embroidered veil wearing a glimmering blue gown. Two ladies stood beside her. One of those ladies was Minerva.
My jaw dropped to the floor even though I had a vague memory of hearing this information. How did that girl manage to be everywhere? Well, I understood how but caramba !
Across the hall, another set of double doors yawned open, but no one stood on the other side. The dark passage had an eerie feeling, especially since the doors had opened on their own. I peeked at Jaime, and he gestured with his hand for me to wait. Was I missing something here or was the groom not there?
Murmurs crept through the dimmed hall, and finally a silhouette of a man appeared swaggering toward us. The closer the man got, the more I could make out the short spiral curls at the top of his head, his slender but muscular form, and his short stature. It was Milo.
A smirk crept up his lips. Either he was conjuring some plan or had a funny way of showing admiration. Then he flickered from view. A collective gasp echoed across the enormous room.
He’d disappeared. A blink later, he reappeared in front of his bride. His brown eyes shone with glee as he unveiled the princess.
Zichri’s sister had his tan skin, dark hair, full lips, and long eyelashes. Where Zichri’s jaw was square, hers was rounded. She reflected Milo’s admiration and giggled. Beatriz would have loved to witness this moment. The couple promenaded to the royal table and took their places beside Prince Zichri.
The servants set platter after platter at the center of our table. Who would have thought there were so many ways to prepare pears and chicken? I worried my stomach might burst my corset open by the time the food stopped coming.
Once the food stopped flowing, the dance floor opened for ladies.
Jaime nudged my side. “You should go.”
“But I don’t know the dance.”
He whistled for Minerva and waved her to our table. “Laude would love to join the ladies’ danza but needs help.”
Minerva nodded shyly and wouldn’t meet my eye.
I glared at Jaime, playfully. He knew how much I enjoyed frivolity, but the whole new setting and evil-prince thing made this much less fun.
Minerva wasn’t much of a teacher either. She led me to a place among a circle of women. “Place your hand up. We’ll walk in a circle and turn the other way. When the music slows down, we wave like this”—she did a strange arm over her head thing—“and when the music speeds up, we do this foot work.” This was where she lost me.
But there wasn’t time to ask for a repeat. A violin wailed, signaling the beginning of a song. I placed my gloved hand in the middle, touching the fingertips of the other ladies in my circle. About two dozen other groups of women did the same. Once the danza started, I stumbled to copy the moves. Minerva chortled at my footwork and laughter filled the dance floor. The danza wasn’t meant to be pretty, and I liked it.
Once the couple’s dances started, Jaime kept his promise to be my partner. He placed a firm hand at the small of my back and lifted my hand high with the other. The melody and dance told a story about a couple teasing the other. Sweat dripped along my hairline. My feet ached and my arms grew tired, but I didn’t want to quit.
Someone tapped Jaime’s shoulder. “May I?” Zichri’s stockier brother asked in his deep voice.
Jaime didn’t let go. He searched my expression. “Sorry, Prince Hugo, the lady is taken the next several dances.”
But the Prince Hugo fellow didn’t move from his spot next to us. “Senor Jaime, will you not introduce your rose?”
I swallowed a lump of apprehension that grew as Jaime clenched his jaw.
“Laude, meet Prince Hugo of Himzo.” Jaime limply gestured toward the prince. “He’s the second son of Himzo.”
“And the one with an eye for beauty.” He shook my hand with a firm grip. His dark brown gaze felt like it could see into my soul.
I dipped into a slow curtsy, unsure how the Himzo greeted a prince at such an event.
A chuckle emanated from deep in his throat with a musical quality. “I beg you to make me the happiest man at the ceremonia . May I have this dance?”
How could he make such a claim? My thoughts ran away from me and spilled out my mouth. “That’s a mighty big claim especially since…” I tapped my fingers over my lips having forgotten how my accent gave me away.
Jaime only took an appropriate step back but kept his attention trained on us in a protective manner. He mouthed, “Are you all right?”
Nodding, I mouthed, “Stay close.”
Prince Hugo swept me into his arms, leading me into the next dance. I twisted and tripped, but Prince Hugo nearly lifted me into the appropriate position.
He drew me closer. “You’re from Giddel.”
The hairs on my arms rose, and my back stiffened at his confident declaration.
“Don’t fret. I know about Zichri’s princess and about you. It took me a moment to make the connection, but that flame on your finger left me in no doubt.”
I bit my bottom lip. Why was he telling me this?
“Laude, I want you to listen carefully.” His lyrical accent had a soothing effect. “I am not your enemy, and you are welcome in Himzo.” He spun me away and then back into one arm so that our bodies lined side to side, his grip tightened around my waist, and he held my hand high. “There’s change stirring, and my only goal is to free the peasants from the Agata Sea Treaty oppression.”
I snorted out of nerves. “Oppression?”
“You don’t know the restraints they’ve put on our powers. One day, your flame will be a furnace and not only the rich will have the most powerful abilities.” He spun me and shifted me to face him. The sincerity on his face made him seem welcoming, but then again, Beatriz had once believed her best friend was good and he turned out to be a power-hungry traitor.
“Prince Hugo, why tell me all this? I’m a mere maid who was elevated to a lady because of some stroke of favor.”
Prince Hugo shook his head. “I know your story better than you think.” The violins shrieked their final long notes, marking the end of the song. Prince Hugo leaned close to my ear. “You are no mere maid.”
“How would you know anything about me?” A giggle escaped. The absurdity of his statement tickled some curiosity deep inside me.
“Ahh…have you ever asked Queen Cottia about your parents?” Prince Hugo smirked as if he’d said something so clever.
I rolled my eyes. “Only every night for years. Prince Hugo, you can liberate the powers for people all you like, but please don’t stir waters that are already settled.” I pushed my palms against his chest to get distance from him, but he caught my wrists with a pleading expression. The song had already ended. New couples walked onto the dance floor.
Jaime craned his neck around a burly man, but the man stepped to the side like a giant hedge.
“What do you know of Queen Cottia’s past?” he asked.
“More than you.” I ripped my wrists from his grip and stretched my neck for a better view of Jaime, but Prince Hugo blocked my view.
“I highly doubt that.” A playful lilt touched his tone.
“Jaime’s waiting for me.”
“Your mother was a mere maid in the Giddelian palace. Her name was Gema. She was from the north, and she died in childbirth.”
My nose flared, my feet begged me to run, but I needed to hear the rest of what he had to say.
“Now, I have your attention.” He licked his bottom lip, possibly to add dramatic emphasis. “There’s someone who wants to meet you and can tell you about your papá.”
Heat boiled in my gut and threatened to spill out. I shoved him away from me. “I have no papá.”
Just when tears choked my throat, Prince Agustín shot in between me and Prince Hugo. He had a thinner frame, but much of Hugo’s and Zichri’s good looks. “I have been wanting to meet you.”
Prince Hugo pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed at the interruption. “This is Senorita Laude of Giddel.”
“Zichri’s girl?” A hint of mockery touched Prince Agustín's question.
“No. A friend of hers.” Prince Hugo patted his brother’s shoulder and strode off.
Prince Agustín placed his warm palm on my back and positioned my hand high in the air. The music twirled with a slow beat that would have been romantic if Jaime were my partner. I caught a glimpse of Jaime nodding toward me as I drifted around the dance floor.
My feet tripped over Prince Agustín’s polished shoes. The clunky way he led had me fumbling for purchase. If he ran a kingdom like he danced, no wonder Prince Hugo believed himself a better fit. On closer inspection, I could see the differences between the brothers, but my memory couldn’t recall if the one who’d threatened Minerva was stocky or more slender.
Finally, Prince Agustín peered into my eyes. “Why do you bother wasting your time in Himzo?”
“What do you mean?” My voice came out thin and high pitched with my nerves on display.
“I’ve seen you here before with my brother’s guard. Don’t act the fool. I will never approve of you and your lady.” He spun me like expected, and we promenaded side by side like all the other dancers. His grip suddenly felt like shackles. He leaned down to my ear. “If we cross paths again, it won’t be pleasant.”