7. Chapter 7
Michaela
I scolded a Crown Prince. Have to say, that wasn’t my normal Thursday night behavior. The divide between my friend and his role in the kingdom felt razor thin. My inadequacies blared from my subconscious like neon lights at a honky-tonk bar.
The guards escorted us into a hall of sorts. Chill bled into the room. Frosty floor-to-ceiling ornate windows stretched the length of one wall, ensconced in frames of hand-carved woodwork and gold leaf. Of course, there were more goats carved at the corners. In fact, everywhere I looked there was another goat with curved horns and a steely stare.
What was it with Nolcovia and goats?
More paintings covered the far wall, along with more woodwork, antiquities, and the lavish appeal that had become commonplace in the less than twenty-four hours I’d been in the country. Greenery draped from every surface—the perimeter of the room, the doorways, the trim of the windows, all intertwined with red ribbons and bright-green glass balls. Candles illuminated the sconces on the walls, flickering with the slightest breeze. They’d spared no expense to make the room come alive with Christmas magic. Excitement burbled throughout our group as we took in the wonder of it all. Even the nobles were left breathless at the sight.
The chandeliers overhead were dimmed to a soft glow, but all around us, crew members were finishing the set up for the lighting, cameras, and equipment that would capture the first choosing ceremony. Where the cameras were hidden in the rest of the palace, the same couldn’t be said for the hall. I counted at least five, two with wheels and three handheld, circling the room like we were bait to sharks.
“What do you mean we need more bracelets?” A woman’s voice behind me caught my attention.
A man answered quickly, “I don’t know. The prince said we don’t have enough.”
I played it off like I wasn’t listening, but really, I was hanging on every word.
“Is he keeping extra girls?” the woman asked. “That will really bog up production time.”
Their voices faded as they moved away from me, likely to fill Fitz’s request. My mind flashed back to the conversation we’d shared. Was he keeping more of his choices because of something I’d said? Hope sparked in my heart. Maybe he hadn’t changed that much after all.
“Okay, ladies!” After all the refined accents I’d heard since my arrival, the producer’s American voice grated a bit. “Line up here. I want three rows, tallest in the back.” Crew members started shuffling us about like cattle into a trailer. Because of my height, I landed between Blair and Esmerey. Her noble snootiness frowned as though my presence was more than she could bear.
Another man entered the hall. His broad smile locked in place, rehearsed and tight, like it was a prosthetic that he screwed on before showtime. His suit cut at such sharp angles, it almost looked plastic. The second he laid eyes on the lot of us, he started gushing over our beauty.
I remained skeptical. All used car salesmen were the same, even when they wore good suits and had enough cosmetic surgery to be considered a Ken doll.
“That’s Corbin Snyder,” Blair whispered. “He hosted So You Want to be a Princess? in Burdainia last year and Next American Soap Star the year before that.”
From the way his personality stole the focus of the room, it made sense.
“Ladies, seriously,” Corbin opened his arms wide and drew our focus away from the cameras and back to him, “you are so lovely tonight. I’m speechless.”
Not likely. He looked like the type of guy who loved the sound of his own voice, especially with cameras present.
Tom, the producer, acted as the responsible adult in the room and clapped his hands to get our attention. “We’re starting shortly. Prince Leonidas will enter, he will speak with Corbin for a moment, and then he will announce those of you who will stay. Those who are not given bracelets will be asked to leave.” He motioned to the left as two doors opened behind us, one on either side.
I got the picture. To the right meant you lived to fight another day, and the left meant you were going home. Worried glances passed between the women around me. Maybe it looked weird that I didn’t join in, but I didn’t have a reason to be worried. Fitz had assured me I was staying long-term, but for the rest of them, this moment could be the end of their journey.
“A couple things,” Tom plowed on while Corbin exited the room, “don’t look at the cameras. Eyes on the prince. Try to show as much emotion as you can, while remaining in control of yourself. I think we can get started.”
“Places!”
“Set up at one!”
“Ready lights.”
None of this felt real. Fitz was expected to fall in love in the middle of this orchestrated chaos? My nagging doubts grew exponentially. Music started up as the lights dimmed. Blair’s hand latched onto mine with a grip that almost made my eyes water. Meanwhile, I felt like I was back on stage, waiting for the judges to announce the next pageant queen to be crowned.
Corbin Snyder made his entrance, positively glowing and gliding with every step until he stopped at the front of the room. Behind him, to the side of us, and then everywhere at once it seemed, cameras moved in to capture the shot. My stare darted from one space to the next, trying to find an angle that didn’t have a camera lens pointed at me. I probably looked like a criminal under a spotlight trying to evade the cops with my fake alibi and nervous stare.
“Hello, Nolcovia,” Corbin spoke directly to the cameras, reminding me that this would be broadcast all over the country, “and welcome to Royally… Yours .”
My eyes widened at the nod to my inside joke with Fitz. Was this his doing?
Corbin turned and faced us. “We have twenty-five gorgeous women, all here to win the heart of the beloved Prince Leonidas Ignatius Fitzborough III.” That same fixed smile locked into place, displaying his shockingly white teeth like a shield. “Are you ready to see your prince, ladies?”
Eager heads nodded, and a few were brave enough to say, “Yes!” But I noticed Blair paled.
Had she locked her knees? At one of my early pageants, I made that mistake, passed out, and took down ten other ladies in formal gowns in the process, like bowling pins at the end of the lane. But Blair didn’t look lightheaded, she looked scared. What did she have to be scared of?
“Well, your wish is my command. Let’s welcome our very own Prince Charming.” The music swelled and the lights shifted to the far corner. Fitz stepped into the light and strode with confidence toward Corbin. They shook hands and Corbin clapped him on the back with a hearty laugh.
“Are you ready, Your Highness?”
Fitz’s smile wavered as he faced our crowd. “I’m not sure.” He almost laughed but it ended quickly. “I think the last part was more fun than this will be.”
“Ah,” Corbin’s eyebrows rose, but hardly a wrinkle appeared on his Botox’d brow, “yes, but you can’t keep them all, I’m afraid.”
“No,” a serious demeanor took hold of my old friend, “I can’t.”
My stomach twisted as we locked eyes. With his apologetic glance, my stomach twisted. Maybe I wasn’t as secure in my position as I thought. Was he trying to tell me he was letting me go? Had I overstepped with my advice? For the first time, I squeezed Blair’s hand back, unsure of what was about to happen.
“Shall we proceed?” Corbin asked, knowing full well how Fitz would answer.
But the prince didn’t follow his cue. A flicker of nervous energy buzzed though his hands as he shook them out. “Actually, I have a few words to say first, if possible.”
The host faltered, thrown by the abrupt change of script. His worried stare shot back to the producers who lurked in the shadows. This wasn’t the plan.
Fitz didn’t wait for permission. With or without it, he planned to say what he needed to.
“I’ve become frustrated by the behavior of some who are here tonight. I’ve been blind to it for too long, content to ignore it rather than take action. But that willing ignorance shows no integrity, and I refuse to have cowardice associated with the crown.” His eyes closed as he exhaled. “This behavior, this sickness that has infected some of the most beautiful women in the kingdom is also called elitism or, to put it simply, pride and arrogance.” He waited for his words to sink in before he continued. “I understand this is tradition among our people to have the noble and elite, but being tradition shouldn’t automatically make it exempt from review. In the history books, Nolcovian nobles were the ones who worked alongside their people. They shared their wealth to elevate those they served, and we’ve lost that.”
Blair’s hand tightened on mine. When I stole a glance, I noted the glossy sheen of tears in her eyes. This whole speech meant the world to her.
“No more. And new traditions will start here.” Fitz’s gaze moved from one contestant to the next, lingering longer on the ones without noble bloodlines. “Inside this palace, it is no more. If you are here, you are now a lady of court and will be referred to as such.”
A cry of anguish burst from the other side of the room. Lady Esmerey’s palm pressed against her chest as though her heart had stopped beating. Behind her, Lady Lilith blanched. But beside me, Blair nearly buzzed out of her skin with excitement. She’d presumably grown up around the palace. She’d seen their galas, their parties, their extravagance, but never had experienced any of it. What Fitz was suggesting, it was a game changer for her and the others.
“Your Highness,” Lilith braved a few words, “there are some who might feel this makes a mockery of the court. If they are only referred to as ladies here within the palace, and yet are common members of the kingdom outside the walls, the others might feel like—“
“You misunderstand, Lady Lilith.” His voice hardened like quick-drying cement. “This is not a title change in ceremony. The women who are here tonight are of the highest quality and moral fiber. Selected for their high marks, dedicated service, and compassion, they have exemplified the greatest character. They deserve recognition, and all the rights and privileges associated with this title will be theirs from this time forward.” He leveled his stare at her, unwavering and unforgiving. “This was done for men for centuries, drawing on the best in our communities to step up to a higher rank. Are women somehow less worthy of the practice?”
“Of course not, Your Highness.” Lilith couldn’t leave it alone. An accusatory finger angled straight for Sadie. “But she won a raffle! How is that better than—“
“You forget your place!” His words crashed over her like a wave. The room fell completely silent, no one willing to so much as steal a breath. “And as to this girl,” he nodded at Sadie, “she has more integrity in her fingertips than I have ever found in your entire bloodline.”
Though seething, Lilith stopped fighting. In the front row, Sadie stood a little taller.
“Second,” Fitz snapped his fingers and servants came through a side door carrying trays, “as a token of my esteem, all of you ,“ he looked at me with raised eyebrows to emphasize it, “will receive a platinum bracelet. Those who continue will be gifted a charm every time they are asked to stay. But if you are asked to leave, the bracelet and the charms are yours to keep as a symbol of gratitude for your part in my journey to find love.”
He’d changed it. Not only that, he’d changed it because of something I’d said. I looked around at the others, wondering if they were as baffled as I was. Most looked shocked, but in various stages and for a multitude of reasons. But Gwendolyn’s mouth hung open, stunned by what he was suggesting. To me, the implications were huge, but to the rest of the room, I sensed I hadn’t even begun to understand what it meant. They acted as though he’d changed the course of Nolcovia’s history, and he’d done it on a live feed for everyone to see.
Uniformed staff members emerged from the wings, carrying pillows draped with dazzling silver bracelets. One by one, they moved through the lines of women, attaching the bracelets. I was near the end, but eagerly awaited the symbol that I belonged. Maybe it was the fact that I knew I was the imposter, but wearing the bracelet felt like camouflage. With quick hands, the attendant fastened it around my wrist, surprisingly heavy. I twisted my wrist back and forth, watching the platinum catch the light with playful appeal. Small rings adorned the chain, like promises for the future.
For half a second, I thought about the kind of money I could get for my bracelet with all the platinum charms attached. If I stayed long enough, it could easily act as a nest egg for developing my own fashion line.
I shook the thoughts away. Fitz needed me. That’s why I was here. Money didn’t matter. Not really.
Sensing the pause in the break from the script, Corbin Snyder stepped forward. “Your Highness, are you ready now?”
After what felt like an eternity, Fitz sought me out. Our eyes met and, though he looked uneasy, he drew in a shaky breath and nodded. “Yes.”
“Whenever you’re ready.” Corbin took a step backward into the shadows.
The room clenched in anticipation as an attendant set a tray of gleaming charms on the small table next to Fitz. His stare landed on it with deep introspection. His eyes closed and we waited for the first choice of the Crown Prince of Nolcovia.
“Lady Esmerey,” his jaw clenched tight and then released at once, “please step forward.”
I couldn’t hide my shock. Seriously? The queen snoot? Just when I thought I’d made a difference in his thinking, he chose the exact opposite of my advice. What was he thinking?
Esmerey crossed the open distance between them as though she was gliding over the marble floor. The low light of the chandeliers highlighted the contrast between her pale skin and ebony hair. Sure, there was no denying her beauty, but couldn’t Fitz see the inky stain of her soul?
Apparently not, because he smiled warmly as she stopped in front of him. Any hope that he was singling her out just to send her away went out the window.
“Esme,” gag me, he was already using a nickname for her, “will you take this charm as a symbol that your heart is true, your intentions are pure, and you are willing to serve the people of Nolcovia as their future queen?”
My stomach roiled as she glowed with excitement. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Fitz took her extended hand, attached the charm, and we all watched as she strode with arrogant steps to her new position to the right of the prince.
I wanted to walk out. This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. What was the purpose in helping him if he chose poorly?
Fitz drew in another slow breath, glanced at someone in the shadows of the sidelines, and then announced his next choice. “Lady Blair, please step forward.”
I’d forgotten I was holding Blair’s hand until she slipped it from my grasp. And yet, she didn’t move. Her palms cupped her mouth, her wide eyes blinked, and I swore I saw the glisten of emotion. Whispers churned to life in the crowd, not just in the women, but in the whole room. The second to be named was the driver’s daughter, and it was the first time her name had held the rank and privilege of a lady of court. Blair squared her shoulders, shook off the shock, and made the distance between her and the prince in eight strides.
Unlike his professional demeanor with Esmerey, Blair had Fitz grinning. Her head bowed as she reached him, and she lowered herself into an elegant curtsy. Fitz waited. He must have sensed it was a show of her gratitude, but he didn’t let her stay long. Taking her hand, he recalled her without words, pulling her back to standing.
“Lady Blair, will you take this charm as a symbol that your heart is true, your intentions are pure, and you are willing to serve the people of Nolcovia as their future queen?”
Eyes glistening, bottom lip trembling, and with her hand still in his, she nodded. “It would be my honor, Your Highness.”
I wanted to clap and let out a big ol’ American whoop , but I tried to remember that I needed to keep up pretenses. Still, seeing him with someone who could actually make a difference, that set my whole soul on fire. After her charm was in place, Blair stood side-by-side with Esmerey. Equals in stature for the first time.
Fitz worked through the list one by one, following the same pattern. They ticked down, making the group on the side of the room slowly grow larger.
Lady Eirene.
Lady Fallon.
Lady Margaux.
Lady Isabelle.
Lady Kaida.
I didn’t know the last three, but they were noble. Maybe they were of a higher moral caliber than the ones I’d met. Time would tell. At least it seemed as though Fitz was trying to keep a balance.
“Lady Sadie.” Fitz chuckled at the pairing. “That rhymes beautifully. As if it was meant to be. Will you please step forward?”
I leaned forward to catch a glimpse of Sadie’s reaction, but she still hadn’t moved. Where Blair had looked shocked, Sadie’s face had paled considerably. Her lips parted and she stared as if her worst nightmare had come true. Beside her, Carline nudged her forward and it was only then that she took her first steps. Like a hen covering open ground with a hawk circling above, she skittered over the marble floor toward Fitz. Flickers of regret crossed his face. Obviously, her reaction had him questioning his choice. Even as he leaned to catch her eyes, her bowed head wouldn’t lift to look at him.
“Will you take this charm as a symbol that your heart is true, your intentions are pure, and you are willing to serve the people of Nolcovia as their future queen?”
My heart thudded in my chest as we waited for her answer. Would she be able to speak? And if she did, was she actually going to accept him? What would happen if the prince was rejected on the live feed and by someone who was considered common blood by birth?
“Yes, Your Highness,” she finally squeaked out.
While he went through the process of attaching the charm, I glanced around at those who were left. I never expected to be picked early, that would raise too many questions. But I didn’t think I’d be in the lowest quarter.
“Lady Gwendolyn,” Fitz resumed the process as Sadie took a spot behind Blair, “please step forward.”
I had to give it to her. She looked the part. Gwendolyn carried herself with poise and dignity. Her long strides exposed no hesitation, but her elegant bow showed her respect for the crown.
“Gwen,” he sought her hand early, “I can’t promise I won’t make decisions you won’t like, but I swear, I’ll always listen to your side.”
Barbs of jealousy jabbed my heart. That felt like something I deserved to hear, but clearly, they had a friendship that went deeper than I’d expected. Once more, I wondered why I was here if Gwendolyn could have been his voice on the inside. Maybe I hadn’t impacted him as much as I thought. Maybe she was the real reason behind the changes he’d made.
“Will you take this charm as a symbol that your heart is true, your intentions are pure, and you are willing to serve the people of Nolcovia as their future queen?”
Where most of the others could hardly wait for him to finish before they accepted his offer, Gwendolyn only stared. Seconds stretched into awkward moments. She waited as though her answer wasn’t easy.
“Yes, Your Highness.” She pursed her lips and added, “For now.”
The hall went silent as if the entire room decided to hold their breath at once. Who would talk to the prince as though he had to earn her blessing first? Fitz’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t speak. With curt movements, he attached the charm and she left to join the rest.
The names continued, but not mine.
Lady Astrid.
Lady Minerva.
Fitz’s gaze danced everywhere but on me. Did he replace me with Gwendolyn, and he was too chicken to tell me? Did I come all this way for nothing?
There weren’t many of us left. He wouldn’t pick Chantal. I wasn’t sure about Lilith. I counted a handful of girls I didn’t know, all who looked moodier by the moment. Then there was Carline and Dagny, both wild cards.
And me.
With four spots left.
“Lady Dagny,” Fitz spoke her name with charm and appeal, “please step forward.”
She brightened immediately. Taking large swaying steps to the front, it was easy enough to imagine she was dancing with an invisible stranger. With a small twirl at the prince’s feet, she bowed to her invisible partner then turned her attention to Fitz.
He shook his head with a faint smile in place, as though he was questioning his sanity for choosing her. Nonetheless, he spoke the question that had been asked of so many others. I glanced at the rest who surrounded me. Even Lilith looked worried. With only three spaces remaining, we were starting to look like the losers who were last to be picked on the playground.
“Oh! It’s so tiny!” Dagny’s exclamation interrupted my thoughts. She held her bracelet and charm up to her face. “I shall name him Bob.” Fitz had no time to react to her words before she blew him a sassy kiss, gave a flirtatious wink, and skipped away to join the others.
Fitz stuttered for a moment, cheeks still slightly pinked from her display. “Uh, that is,” he laughed and looked at his shoes as if to gain his composure, “Lady Taglin, please step forward.”
Instantly, Lilith’s face soured. Obviously, she felt slighted, as if her position should have been ten names ago, and yet he still hadn’t called her. Taglin joined the others with her charm in place. Only two slots were left. My chances of staying looked horrible. The only hope I had left was that Lilith and Chantal were the worst possible choices, so maybe it would be Carline and—
“Lady Chantal.”
My heart dropped at the sound of her name from his lips. Not only because I wasn’t picked, but because he’d chosen poorly again. She was the worst person he could pick, and yet… I shook my head. Maybe it was good that he was sending me home. If this was his idea of good decisions, then I didn’t want any part of it.
Every other conversation had carried easily throughout the room, but Fitz made a point of keeping his voice low as he spoke to Chantal. He didn’t want a single word to be heard by anyone. No warmth showed in his face. He told me things had ended badly between them, but I’d never seen him look as hurt as he did holding her hand. But the opposite of love wasn’t hate, it was indifference. If there were no feelings for her, then why did it hurt him so much to be near her?
Was he still harboring secret love? And why did that thought gut me?
Her laughter broke the tense silence. She pressed her hand against his chest as though he didn’t look repulsed to be near her. In a loud voice she exclaimed, “Yes, of course, Your Highness.”
Fitz dropped her hand, face stony and unyielding. Without another word, she crossed the floor to join the group that was larger than mine.
Corbin Snyder stepped from his place in the shadows to give his warning. “This is the final charm, Your Highness. Are you prepared with your choice?”