Chapter 18
The ball hasn't even started yet, and I'm already exhausted. My tiara is pinching at the sides of my head, and my dress is itching despite the changes Veronica suggested the seamstresses make.
Mama turns to me and fusses with several of the bows so that they sit right. "You look beautiful, Evelyn."
"Thank you," I respond.
"Do we need to go over the expectations for the ball?" she asks.
"I know them. You want me to dance with anyone who asks, but particularly with Lady Elizabeth and Prince Francesco.
I'm not to leave before the end, and I'm to make acceptable small talk," I rattle off.
She's been through this several times, and I know what I have to do even if I don't particularly want to do it.
"Good." She takes her place next to my father and nods to the servants standing on the door.
"Their Royal Majesties, King Henry and Queen Cecilia of Falhaven, Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Westmillard, and Their Royal Highnesses Princess Evelyn, Princess Veronica, Prince Arthur, and Princess Solana," they call out into the room.
"It defeats the point of a masquerade if everyone knows who we are," I mutter.
Veronica snorts from her position next to me. "You're the one who asked for a masquerade."
"Because you told me to. I didn't want one."
"I'm sure you'll find something to enjoy about it," she says as we make our way into the room with the assembled nobility bowing to us as we do.
"You keep saying that, but I have no idea what that means."
"You'll see," she responds cryptically. "Are you ready for the first dance?"
"You know that I'm not."
"You're the guest of honour, you're the one who is supposed to do it," she says.
"I know the rules. We went to the same etiquette classes," I remind her.
"At least you can predict who it's with. Prince Francesco is the highest-ranking guest."
"Mmm." At least that means that Mama will count that dance as done. It's best to get it out of the way, even if I don't want to do it. There are so many other ways I'd prefer to spend my birthday, and one of them is down in the kitchen, but Mama would never let me do that.
My parents take their places on the thrones at the front of the ballroom. I know they'll take part in the dancing later, but the rules say that no one can dance until I've stepped onto the floor for the first time.
Kathryn joins them on a small seat beside theirs, already looking a little bit exhausted. I feel for her. As far as I know, she likes events like these, but not when she's barely back to royal duties after her sickness.
"Good luck," Veronica whispers as she nods over my shoulder.
I turn around in time to see Prince Francesco approaching. At least, I assume it's him. Everyone knows that he's the one who is supposed to open the ball with me as the highest-ranking person I'm not related to in the room, and I doubt anyone would go against that convention.
He bows deeply. "Your Highness."
"Your Highness," I respond with a curtsy.
"May I have this dance?"
I force a smile to my face, but I know it's not as polished as one that either Veronica or Kathryn can pull off. I put my hand in his and let him draw me into the middle of the dance floor.
When he lets go, I take the opportunity to rearrange the cuff of my dress where it's brushing against my wrist. I should have asked for shorter sleeves. They're fashionable at the moment, so I'm sure Mama would have allowed it.
The music starts, and I dip into another curtsy, while the Prince bows to me, before we make our way into hold.
I hate knowing that I'm dancing with so many people watching me, but at least it seems as if he's a decent dancer, which makes it easier for me to remember the steps myself.
"I'm glad to see Princess Kathryn made the event," he says once we've settled into the dance.
I look over to where Kathryn is sitting next to my parents. She looks paler than usual, even with her face covered by the mask she's wearing. "She said she wanted to join us."
"Do you think she might dance?"
I frown. Something about the questions he's asking makes it seem as if he'd rather be dancing with Kathryn rather than me. I don't blame him for that, I can't imagine that I'm very good company. "I'm sure she'd like it if you took her some cherry wine, that's her favourite," I tell him.
His face seems to light up behind his mask. "Which one is that?"
"It's the redder of the wines. The darker one is blackberry, and the pale amber one is apricot. Do you not have fruit wines in Sovranetti?"
"We do. They are not usually served at events like this."
"They're not normally served at balls here either, but I prefer them."
"Ah, so truly a ball for your birthday," he says as we make the final turn of the dance.
"Yes." I don't add that if it were a perfect celebration for me, then we wouldn't be here at all. That doesn't seem relevant to the conversation, and I imagine that Mama wouldn't be pleased to learn that I'm telling a potential suitor that.
The dance comes to an end, and I break away from Prince Francesco as quickly as possible, dipping into a polite curtsy.
"Thank you for the dance, Your Highness," he says.
"And to you, Your Highness," I respond, already thinking that this is a ridiculous way for me to converse with someone Mama wants me to marry.
I'm relieved when he excuses himself and heads straight to where the wine glasses are sitting in neat rows, selecting two of the cherry wines before heading over to where my sister is sitting.
I don't know exactly what I'm witnessing, but Kathryn smiles, and that's something considering how sick she's been feeling.
"Your Highness," a woman says.
I turn to face her with what I hope is a friendly smile, but I don't think it is.
"May I have this dance?" she asks, holding out her hand.
I'm about to tell her that I need a moment to pause after my last dance, but then I remember what Mama keeps telling me about tonight. There's no declining anyone if they ask me, even if I want to.
"Of course." I put my hand in hers, and already find myself dreading the rest of the evening.