Chapter 6 #2
Mom’s fork scraped against her plate.
Oriana looked like she wanted to stab my mother in the chest.
“Every single one of you will conduct yourself as a royal.” Grandfather’s head slowly turned in my direction.
Oh, come on.
He’d never let me live down the one incident where I’d gotten caught making out with a guy behind the curtains onstage.
How was I supposed to know they’d open early?
Okay, fine, there had been two incidents.
Two unfortunate accidents, I’d like to correct.
The second was when I’d accidentally set the decorative arch on fire while saging it before the ceremony. No one had warned me it was highly flammable.
Saging was a Calira tradition. Most people did it at least once a week in their homes.
We didn’t fuck around with bad energy around here.
He cleared his throat, tipping his head at me.
I gave him my most innocent smile, as if promising I wouldn’t set anything on fire this year.
He looked away, but I didn’t relax.
Staying out of trouble was easier said than done for me.
Because I had one demon haunting me that no sage in the world could get rid of.
Brooks fucking Byron.
After breakfast, Elodie whisked me away to the tailor’s quarters to get fitted for my Tide Ball gown. Then we strolled through the gardens, stopping whenever someone wanted to talk with me.
That part of being a princess came easy to me. My mom had once told me I’d been a chatterbox since birth and could hold a conversation with a wall.
I was in the castle sunroom now, staring at the sea and wondering if attending Saint Vale had been the biggest mistake of my life.
Three thousand miles away from Saint Vale, and Brooks was still finding ways to fuck with me.
“Why didn’t you share the good news with me?”
I turned around at my mom’s voice. She walked in, a smile already stretching across her face.
We hadn’t had a second alone since I’d arrived.
I waited for her to explain what this good news was.
So far, there’d been no good news in my life for weeks.
Maybe even months.
“Cory chose you as his Fawn,” she said.
Ah, she had old news.
I tried to form the words to correct her, but she kept going.
“I know; I know. I’m not supposed to know that, given our situation. The prime minister told me in private. He said he couldn’t hide something this important from me.”
I’d left her in the dark because there was no way I was explaining the whole Fawn disaster over the phone. That conversation needed to happen in person.
Especially since I was still plotting how to get out of it.
She came over, her brown hair falling over one shoulder in vintage waves. She still looked twenty years younger than she was.
She sat down beside me. “Cory will be a great Son for you.”
I dragged my palm over the cushion. “Cory wasn’t who chose me.”
Mom’s smile disappeared. “Who did then?”
“Brooks.”
She shot off the sofa. “That son of a bitch!”
Her heels stabbed into the rug as she paced in front of me. She didn’t need to say what she was thinking. Brooks would put me through hell.
She stopped mid-step. “President Byron would never approve of him selecting you.”
I nodded. That was my only hope.
Hope was the keyword.
President Byron hated me enough that revenge might sound like a great reason to approve it.
“How do I fix this?” I asked.
“You have two choices. Either fight him every step of the way.”
I waited for the other.
“Or make him fall in love with you.”
I almost laughed. Except nothing about that option was funny. It was fucking terrifying.
She dropped to her knees in front of me and covered my hands with hers. “You’re strong, Daphne. You’ll make it through this.” Her grip turned painfully firm. “But no matter what, Brooks can never find out what we did.”
Star-filled nights in Calira were my favorite.
The salty breeze swept gently across my skin as I listened to the steady beat of drums, violins, and traditional Caliran instruments.
The Tide Ball always felt like stepping into a fairy tale.
Every year, we held the ball on the oceanside terrace, letting the sea cleanse us for another year.
Watching the belly dancers sway, I adjusted the headpiece connected to my crown. Diamonds draped across my face. Every Caliran woman wore jewel stones tonight, but only royalty wore diamonds.
“Happy Tide Day.”
Cory stopped at my side, holding a champagne flute in each hand. His face was painted gold and blue like all men on Tide Day, matching his blue suit and gold tie.
“Happy Tide Day,” I repeated as people danced in front of us.
He offered me a glass, and I accepted it before taking a drink.
Tonight, I had to stay sober and not do anything to piss my grandfather off. I’d left my sage in my room and planned to keep my lips to myself.
He held out his flute to toast with me. “To another year of Caliran greatness.”
I tapped my glass against his but didn’t take another drink.
He downed his champagne in one smooth swallow before setting the empty flute on a nearby table draped in shimmering gold cloth.
“Care to give me the pleasure of dancing with the princess?” He held out his hand.
Cory knew me saying no would look bad. It’d definitely remove me from the Best Behavior list.
“Of course,” I said, lowering my glass to the table and slipping my hand into his.
He dragged his finger across mine, his skin cool from the champagne.
There were no shivers from his touch.
No chaotic butterflies swarming my stomach.
Just … nothing.
He dipped into a respectful bow before spinning me once and leading me toward the dance floor. Conversations quieted as we passed, and people bowed.
I had no idea if they recognized Cory with his face paint, but the diamonds on my headpiece made my identity obvious.
I stopped when one woman reached out to run her hand over my dress.
Cory cursed and swatted her hand away. “No one touches the princess without her permission.”
The woman jerked her hand back. “My apologies, Your Highness. I’m so sorry.”
“You’re fine.” I smiled at her.
I slipped my hand from Cory’s and took hers, giving it a soft squeeze the way my mom always did to me.
“Your headpiece is beautiful,” I told her, admiring the simple headpiece with a single jewel stone.
Her entire face lit up, like no one had ever given her a compliment that meaningful before. That broke my heart.
Cory’s mouth stretched into the polite smile I’d seen him use around my grandfather a thousand times.
Fake as hell.
Here, I was Cory’s superior.
But at Saint Vale? That power would flip.
As a Night Son, he’d rule over every student there.
And if he had his way, if he somehow managed to make me his Fawn, I’d belong to him. He wouldn’t have to bow or show respect. I’d have to do that with him.
I agreed to the dance because before dinner, my mom had pitched Operation Convince Cory to Fight for Me.
Would it work? No.
Brooks would rip his jugular out first.
But it was at least worth a try.
“Have a good night, Mr. Bellamonte,” the woman said. She emphasized his name, making sure he knew she recognized him.
He started to curl his upper lip before he forced it back into place. He clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head toward her. “And you as well, ma’am.”
Cory pretending to be the good guy almost made me laugh. His father would disown him if he embarrassed the family in public.
Unlike us royals, the prime minister was voted in by the citizens. Looking like an asshole in public was not great for reelection.
The woman spun on her heel and left without saying another word.
Cory glanced back at me, looking a little less cocky than before.
I didn’t want to dance with him. Didn’t want to speak with him. But tonight wasn’t about what I wanted.
We both had agendas tonight, and I was going through with mine, even if it meant dancing with a grade-A asshole. I let him suffer for a few seconds before interlacing our fingers, and he walked us to the dance floor.
The band shifted into the Undertow, one of the traditional Caliran dances. It was the more intimate one. Just before we reached the dance floor, someone stepped into our path.
Cory walked straight into the man’s chest. Still holding my hand, he tried to step around the stranger.
That was when I noticed the man wasn’t a stranger. He wore a mask instead of face paint. A black suit covered his broad frame, making him stand out against the blue and gold around us.
I retreated a step.
He didn’t move or speak. Just stood there, blocking our path like a bad omen. I took in his mask as chills spread over my skin. The skeletal grin stretched across the lower half. Hollowed black cheekbones and carved white lines made it look too lifelike. It was unmistakably a Night Son mask.
I didn’t need to see his face to know exactly who was behind that mask.
The cinnamon gave him away first.
Then the way he stood—shoulders squared, body perfectly still, as if moving even an inch might unleash whatever violence he was holding back.
“Hands off my princess,” Brooks told Cory in a flat tone.
When neither Cory nor I moved, Brooks hooked two fingers under his mask and dragged it up.
“Shit,” Cory grumbled, just now realizing it was Brooks.
Cory not recognizing him surprised me. He needed to get smart and catalog the traits of his enemies. I’d been doing it with Brooks for years. I mean, the guy had recently attempted to poison him.
Brooks reached between us and pried Cory’s hand from mine, one finger at a time.
People around us stopped to stare.
Jesus. Of course he was making a scene.
It seemed I couldn’t go one Tide Ball without trouble finding me.
One thing was certain. Before the night ended, one of two men would probably kill me: my grandfather … or my best friend’s psychotic brother.
Brooks turned that murderous stare on me, and the vein in his neck pulsed.
My money was on Brooks.