7 DAYS. 13 HOURS. 51 MINUTES.
Our invitations allowed us up the elevator, and Mags waved us on as Phyllis escorted us to a level I had never dreamed I would get to see, much less experience.
Level twenty-one: The royal floor.
The moment we stepped out of the elevator building and onto the bridge that led to a central garden square, floating candlelight greeted us on small squares of metal that used steam power to hover in place almost silently. They seemed to line the way to the palace in the distance. Meena was lighting my way to her—lighting my way home. The palace was so much bigger up close than it was from a distance, and I wasn’t prepared for how humungous the front doors and leading staircase would be, much less the foyer inside.
“It’s bigger than I thought it would be,” Lapis whispered.
“I...never imagined it would be so opulent,” Lazuli whispered in return.
I didn’t say anything. Mostly because I didn’t have the words to verbalize my feelings, but also because Meena’s home was nothing like her. The white walls were accented with light pinks and hues of peach that made Lapis fit in well with her surroundings but made me look like a centerpiece.
Lazuli was dressed in her usual gaudy colors of green and yellow, making her stand out like a flower in a storm—which, I guessed, was Phyllis’s intentions. She would never be ignored or passed over for not having been seen.
“Lazuli, remember, dance, enjoy yourself, but be polite and your happiest self. Men do not like a sourpuss on nights like these.”
“Yes, Mother,” she replied automatically, like she hadn’t even heard the words themselves, just that she was being directed.
There was a grand set of stairs in front of us, as well as open doors to the right that led to a ballroom filled with people dressed in all kinds of colors and wearing all manner of dresses. I vaguely heard Lapis telling Lazuli about the different styles and makeup trends, but my attention had returned to the stairs, where a smaller lady in a plain red dress hurried toward us.
“Cinderella, isn’t it?” she asked with a small bow. “You are to enter with the princess. Please, follow me.”
Phyllis scowled at me but said nothing, while Lapis grinned like a cat who’d caught a fish. She gestured to the lady in red who was soon halfway back up the stairs. I hurried to follow, but it wasn’t easy in the dress.
“The princess is waiting for you on the royal staircase through those doors and up the stairs on your right.” She bowed and hurried off, no doubt off to attend to an endless list of duties an event like this would entail.
“Thank you,” I tried to call after her, but she had disappeared too quickly to hear me.
The stairs on my right were a narrow set, twisting up in an endless flight that took far longer than it should have thanks to the number of layers locking my ribcage into place. Seriously, how did women get anything done in this many layers? I wouldn’t even be able to look at a steamer dressed like this, much less repair one.
Once I had finally reached the top, I glanced around the small veranda that overlooked an opulent ballroom. Meena stood in front of two guards dressed in tasseled suits and standard-issue caps. “Meena?”
She spun around to meet me and stopped as her smile froze halfway. “Wow.” Her eyes swept over my body with an appreciative flare hidden in their depths. “I thought that necklace would look amazing on you, and I was right. Prago City suits you.”
My hands rested in hers with some trepidation. I was one hundred percent sure of my love for this woman, but I was zero percent sure of my position by her side now that I had the opportunity to think about her future. Our future. They were all going to look at me as an attachment to her, like a purse or a piece of jewelry.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never been escorted to a ball by a princess before—or anyone, for that matter.”
“Forget about all that this evening. None of it matters.” She placed gentle lips to my cheek, her warmth flooding me. “Just for tonight, can we please just have fun? Live with me.”
Her gaze pleaded with me, and under the candlelight, her green eyes twinkled and her mouth twitched, knowing how much she could get from me with just those perfect eyes.
“Of course.” This was her night. One she had spent her life assuming she would never get to see. I would never ruin that for her.
She took my hand and gave a small nod to the guard by the stairs that descended into the ballroom before placing us at the top of them. I was by her side—not one step behind her or one step in front like a show pony—her hand resting in mine. “Ready?” she whispered.
“As I’ll ever be.” I squeezed her hand and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
As the words left my mouth, a series of soft lights fell upon us and the music that had previously filled the air stopped as an announcement took its place: “Princess Jemeena of Clepsydra, escorted by Lady Cinderella Ferning.”
Meena took the stairs one tiny step at a time, giving me enough room to ensure I was walking in the heels correctly. The room of guests and royal attendees were staring straight at us, their eyes burning holes in my dress and setting my heart on fire as it raced to catch up with the moment. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs burned and my breath halted. Meena’s hand squeezed mine, and she stole my gaze away from the people and held it as we descended the last few steps.
“There. That wasn’t so scary, was it?”
“Terrifying,” was all I managed to get out between teeth that wanted to remain clenched. “But it’s better with you.”
The music had started back up by the time my senses went back to normal, and Meena dragged me toward the dance floor where Lazuli was dancing with fake gratitude in the arms of a gentleman old enough to be her father. Meena scowled at them for a brief moment before turning her attention back to me and wrapping one hand around my waist and resting the other in my awaiting hand.
The music was a waltz, which was at least a dance Dad had taught me, so I could follow the basic slow-quick-quick formatting and keep up. But after a few boxes and me very obviously counting my steps, Meena leaned in and whispered, “You don’t have to focus so hard on being perfect. You can stumble your way through the entire night, and it would still be perfect for me.”
All I could hear was her voice and the music, all I could touch was her solid hand in mine, and all I could feel was gratitude that I was invited here. That she was here to celebrate herself. It could have been a very different evening—would have been if Seren had gotten His way. But I did it. I saved her.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For giving me this night.”
“And every night to come.”
Her lips glinted in the light as they neared mine, and before I knew it, she spun us in a tight circle and kissed me with a glowing ember that simmered between us long enough that it began to crackle. I wanted nothing more than for that heat to pop, a fire to be raised, and her skin to dance in its flames along mine.
“Later,” she whispered again. But her eyes nudged mine and her gaze swept low to the corset holding me in place and the figure I was cutting. “Maybe a little sooner.”
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked, needing a break and maybe to sit down to rest my feet.
“Ooh, yes. I ordered some punch from floor one that I’d overheard people raving about during my adventures with you. I wanted to try it.” She grabbed my hand and gracefully walked us off the dance floor and through throngs of people that seemed to divide the moment she was anywhere near them.
She’d ordered punch from floor one? But why? There must have been better options farther up. I didn’t understand. But politics weren’t something I was up to in this heady moment, so instead I put my questions to rest—something I needed to practice frequently in the company of this mysterious woman—and simply followed.
Two glasses met us the moment we reached an ornate table with gold trim and a dark lacquer I couldn’t begin to the fathom the cost of. “For the princess and her escort,” a servant said. “It’s so good to see you up and about, Your Highness.”
“It is good to be up and about, Renault. Thank you.” She bowed her head and turned to hand me one of the glasses. “It is made from a desert flower and some kind of apple grown on floor three.”
They could grow apples on three? Wow.
The small fluted glass felt delicate between my rough fingers, but I held it with grace like Meena and sipped. The sweet apple and floral tastes hit me straight away, like how I imagined a scented candle would taste, but the lingering honey and floral notes made me want to drink more.
“Do you like it?” Meena asked, who was looking at the glass with a perplexion I couldn’t read. “Because it’s certainly unique.”
“I didn’t know you could grow apples that far down, but who knows, maybe they have some patches of sunlight they utilize.” I took another sip and swirled it around my mouth. “It’s unique in a pleasant, refreshing kind of way. It’s a lot sweeter than I would normally drink, though.”
“That’s the third bowl we’ve gone through,” Renault said, looking at us both. “The guests seem to love it.”
Meena shot me a wide grin, pride evident on her face. “I knew it was a good idea.” She waved at the entrées and hors d’oeuvres with a dismissive hand. “Everything we have for these balls comes from the upper floors, and they’re beautiful, of course, but I wanted something simpler. Something that was just about taste, rather than presentation.”
I suspected she just wanted to support a business on the lower floors—trying to make a difference with a small act—but she was giving herself and the people around her justification for her actions. She winked at me, and I knew I was right.
“How about a stroll through the gardens?” she suggested. “I’ve always wanted to show you them.”
“Sure.” I grabbed another glass of punch for each of us and let her guide me through the throngs of people—some stopping to greet her, others moving out of the way, and some simply staring in awe. We went out a small door in the corner of the room hidden behind a heavy red drape. “I used to sneak out of balls and formal functions as a child through this door. Since it’s never locked, I assume the servants always leave it open, just in case.” She chuckled to herself, probably over some private thought, and whispered, “I’d never thought about it like that before.”
“They seem to care for you a great deal.”
“I know it may seem strange from the outside, but they’re as much a part of my family as my parents are. They nursed me, played with me, held me when I was sad, educated me.” She grabbed my hand and wandered us down the candlelit path through midnight shrubs and past hanging trees. “Though we may be from different classes, our worlds collide as though we are one.”
I didn’t know if she was referring to us or herself and the servants, but it didn’t matter. I guessed, to her, they did act as one.
“But you’ve opened my eyes to how much of a divide there really is. I’d never looked up from below before, but it seems so far away, doesn’t it? All the royalty and pomposity?”
I rubbed circles with my thumb over that sweet little corner where our hands joined. “We just don’t really think about it much. You live in a whole other world to me.”
“El, are you okay? You seem . . . not yourself.”
She pointed out a particularly rare species of tree with low-hanging red fruit before returning back to her question.
“I just don’t know where I fit into your world.” I spun her to face me, the moon the only light on her beauty now as we stood in a private garden overlooking the city. “I love you, but I don’t know how to stand beside you.”
She tucked a strand of wayward blonde hair behind my ear. “It must be overwhelming. I apologize for springing this ball on you. But it is only important that you are here. You do not need to act right or dress a certain way or know how to talk to diplomats and foreign peacemakers and heads of trade organizations. That is my job. One I have been educated in my entire life, even though they never thought I would live long enough to use it.”
“But I don’t want to make a fool of myself or you. This is important, isn’t it?”
Her warm hand on my chilly face sent sparks throughout my body, and I shivered involuntarily. “Yes, it is. But you have a lifetime to figure it out.” She gestured around to the world and the people and the ball happening inside. “This isn’t going anywhere.”
Meena chewed the inside of her cheek when she lied. It was so subtle that most people wouldn’t notice, but I did—I always noticed her. And right now, she was lying.
But I couldn’t tell how.