40
T he day of the banquet came before I knew it. Giselle whipped up a dress for me, a floaty evening gown the color of frosted leaves, pale enough to be mistaken for white. I dressed with greater care than usual that night.
When I arrived at the palace banquet hall, a maidservant escorted me to a curtained alcove before the entrance, where I was told to wait. It was there I sat.
“I do not see why this is necessary,” I said, shifting on my feet.
“Apologies, milady.” The maid wrung her hands, peeking out at the banquet hall. “Just a minute more.”
“You said that for the past fifteen.” I tugged at the emeralds dangling from my necklace—the gift Bennett had given me at Alevine.
The maid blushed. “Apologies,” she repeated.
“What are we waiting for, exactly? Every other guest has already been announced. ”
“For the royal steward to come with Crown Prince Bennett,” she said.
“Is he not already here?” I asked in surprise. My glances past the curtains have been futile, then.
“His Highness is running late,” she said. “King Maximus wanted you to be announced together but...” Her words trailed off and she ducked her head.
Had Bennett heard of my attendance? Was that why he avoided coming? There was no reason to believe that was the case, but a month’s separation had blurred the memory of him, of his mannerisms and whether his affections had been as ardent as I thought. Did he only need a month to forget about me?
Murmurs came from the banquet hall. The guests were waiting for me and their crown prince, no doubt.
My hands grew clammy. The alcove seemed to grow smaller. “As His Highness has not shown his face, perhaps I may be allowed a stroll?”
The maid poked her head out when I exited the alcove. “Milady! You mustn’t! The guests will expect you soon.”
I turned, tucking my shawl tighter around me. “As it is, I cannot be announced without the crown prince,” I said, forcing a smile. “Five minutes. I will return shortly.”
I didn’t stay to hear the rest of her pleas.
The exterior of the banquet hall was lined with gladiolus flowers, opening up to a manicured lawn and a man-made pond where the debutantes had spent a morning during last summer’s Season. The surface of the water was undisturbed. The swans had since migrated for the winter. It was likely they would return soon.
I walked along the perimeter of the building, taking care to duck out of sight when I passed the windows. The glittering chandeliers within threw golden panes of light onto the dew-drenched grass. The hem of my gown was soaked from it. Giselle would have fainted.
My steps slowed when I wandered past the exterior of the banquet hall. Rounded shrubberies marked the entrance to the royal family’s private gardens. I played there frequently in my youth.
The garden hadn’t changed much. Every bush was trimmed to perfection, the grass a lush carpet beneath my slippers. The wisteria tree in the center had the first blooms of spring, drooping elegantly over the large fountain where I used to sit, counting the flowers I picked while waiting for Mother.
I had brought Misty the week after I found her, but she didn’t like the water and scrambled up the tree in protest. My lips twitched at the memory.
I began to turn back, but my feet fell into a patch of light beaming from the window to my left. It spanned floor to ceiling, as many of the palace windows did, but I started at the sight within.
A desk was pushed up against the glass. Seated behind it was the crown prince, hunched over a mess of papers, his hand raked in his hair. His shirt was rumpled and his waistcoat halfway buttoned, a stark contrast to his usual impeccable dress.
An emerald green ribbon was tied around his wrist. From it glittered the ring he had given me all those weeks ago. The one I had returned.
“Oh, Bennett,” I said under my breath. My words were scarcely loud enough for my own ears. I slipped back into the shadows, content for now to watch and imprint the image of him into my mind .
Bennett crossed something out and threw down his quill with evident frustration. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes.
I thought I saw my name scribbled on the paper, but a faint knock came from within before I could take a closer look. Ulysses entered.
“There you are, Your Highness! I’ve been combing the grounds for you,” the steward said between breaths. “You’re late for the banquet.”
“I’m not going.”
I jumped at how close his voice sounded despite the glass.
“Not going?” Ulysses sputtered. “B-but the king has invited—”
“I do not care who my father has invited, I am not going,” Bennett said curtly. “I believe he will be pleased to know I’m spending my time in a less frivolous manner.”
He turned back to his papers and began scribbling furiously, though from my point of view, there were only loops escaping his quill. I couldn’t help but smile.
Ulysses furrowed his brow, disapproving. “Your Highness.”
Bennett gripped the quill tighter. “Please, Ulysses. Spare me this one night.”
The steward slumped his shoulders. “You cannot pass your entire life in this manner.”
Bennett deigned him no reply and continued scribbling nonsense. At last, Ulysses turned and shut the door, but not before giving the crown prince’s back a pinched scowl. I almost laughed out loud, but the sight of Bennett’s face put off all amusement. He looked positively miserable, and though Ulysses had left, did not stop his scrawling .
My heart twinged. I stepped forward and tapped the glass with a finger.
Bennett’s brow furrowed. “Ulysses, for heaven’s sake I told you—” His breath caught when he looked up, our gazes colliding.
After a beat of silence, I gave a hesitant smile.
“Narcissa?” My name finally tore out of his throat.
I pressed a hand against the icy glass, warming at the sight of his hazel eyes. “Bennett,” I said softly.
To my alarm, he climbed onto his desk, scattering his papers. I was beginning to question his sanity until some hidden mechanism clicked and the window swung open like a door. He jumped to the grass.
I hardly had time to comment before Bennett pulled me into his arms in a tight embrace. I collided into him, my face buried into his neck. His scent lingered there. Cedar and spices. I hugged him back, wondering how I managed the last month without him.
“Cissa! I-I never dreamed I would see you again so soon,” Bennett said when he pulled away. His eyes were wet. “I meant to write to you but—heavens you must’ve thought I...”
Bennett’s voice broke off, and he fell into a rapt silence. His stare seemed to finish what his words couldn’t.
I was afraid I would cry if he didn’t stop. “H-have you been well?” I managed.
The question seemed to bring him out of his spell. Bennett ran a hand through his hair, tendrils falling over his forehead. He seemed suddenly aware of his appearance.
“I’m well,” he said, fastening the undone buttons of his waistcoat. Liar. “And you? How are you here? Does Father know? ”
“Of course. He invited me,” I said. “I was waiting for you at the banquet.”
Bennett paused at the last button. “Father invited you?”
“He came to visit last week to make amends, in fact.” I took a step closer, concerned when he made no reply. “Are you alright?”
“Father went to you to make amends,” Bennett repeated.
“You didn’t know?”
“We are not on speaking terms,” Bennett said stiffly.
“That makes reforming laws difficult, no?”
He didn’t smile. “I’ll never forget the day I had to leave you. You were unwell and I...I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
“His Majesty just wanted the best for the kingdom,” I said, lowering my gaze, “but he also wants you to be happy.”
Bennett made a noise that sounded very much like a scoff.
I held back a smile. “He made amends on your behalf. That’s more than I could say for my mother. Everything she did was for her own sake.” My voice grew quiet. “Perhaps she even had a daughter for her own sake.”
Mother never loved me wholly and unselfishly, that I knew now. My feelings were never a concern to her. The thought hurt more than it should have, but I recalled Father’s love and Lady Vanessa’s gentle support. I found my voice again.
“His Majesty’s actions were hurtful, yes, but his intentions were not misguided.”
Bennett furrowed his brow. “He—”
“You can’t deny you were changed in my presence,” I said. “You did risk offending several noble personages on my account.”
“Because I was madly in love with you.”
That made me blush. His words mirrored the title of Sister Scarlett’s article on us last month. I hoped he didn’t think I was serious about having five children.
“You do not have the luxury of being mad.”
After a moment’s pause, Bennett reached for my hands. For once, my fingers were warmer than his. “Abandoning you was the first real sacrifice I made as crown prince. Forget the birthday parties, the celebrations. Those I could live without. But you...I left when you were suffering.”
“Bennett—”
“I know you lost your magic. I should have defied Father and stayed. I should have been more like you.”
I furrowed my brows. “Like me?”
“At the masquerade ball last summer,” he said, looking up with red-rimmed eyes. “You stood up to your mother.”
I pulled away, hugging my elbows. “That was different.”
I tried not to remember that night. The impractical weight of my dress as I hiked up the stairs to the balcony, my heart at my throat, hoping I would make it before Mother did any more damage. The way she had looked at me, her face twisted with rage and betrayal. How hot and disheveled and shaky I felt when I finally said what I had been thinking for ten years.
What you are doing is wrong, Mother.
It was terrifying. But freeing all the same.
“That was the night I fell in love with you. When I saw you up there,” Bennett said, startling me out of my thoughts.
There was admiration in his eyes, strong and unfettered. I never thought he could ever look at me that way.
I shook my head in disbelief. “But you didn’t trust me, even after that. Why did you ask Giselle to test me with love charms?” I asked .
Bennett’s eyes softened. “Because you’re beautiful. You were especially so that night. I was afraid I was...infatuated. I didn’t trust myself.”
“My hair was covered in feathers,” I mumbled.
Bennett smiled, but grew serious as he looked down at his hands. “You were so brave. I wish I had that same courage for my father. At least that one time. You needed me. What did you think when I didn’t come back for you? Did you blame me?”
All protagonists in great romances sacrificed for their lovers—their wealth, their position, even their duty. But I never expected that from Bennett, nor would I ever. I knew he would never do anything half so foolish as renounce his title. Olderea needed him. And I hated that he was guilty because of it.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not,” I said.
Bennett’s voice cracked. “Truly?”
“This kingdom is lucky to have a crown prince as devoted as you,” I said firmly. “Besides, His Majesty is willing to change. My invitation is proof.”
Mother, on the other hand, would never change.
“Do you really think so?” Bennett whispered.
“The king has had enough rebellion in the past few months, don’t you think?”
He exhaled. He raised my hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss on my knuckles. “You are the best crown princess I could ever ask for.”
I warmed at his touch. “Perhaps your father can be persuaded into letting me help reform laws, then?”
“You’ll be perfect,” Bennett said, his voice earnest. “You are perfect.”
He angled his face closer. I grew flustered, though I hardly knew why .
Perhaps being away from him made him all the more magnetic. Or because he was breathtakingly handsome in the dim lamplight of the gardens, the night sky surrounding him like a crown of stars.
“So you’ll forgive your father, then?” I asked, my words stilted.
Bennett paused. “Yes. I suppose I will. He should have told me he invited you,” he said. His gaze lingered on my features, as if committing each one to memory. “I usually don’t like surprises.”
I bit my lip. The movement drew his eye. “Then shall we go to the banquet? Everyone’s waiting.”
“I confess I don’t want to go.” Bennett leaned in again.
“Misty and Pippin are having kittens,” I blurted out.
“Oh.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect that to happen when I—”
“When you picked him up off the street,” I finished. “Did you think you could get away with that without my knowledge? Even with Giselle playing along?”
He laughed sheepishly. “I suppose not.”
“Pippin has been in a sour mood the entire month. He misses you.”
“Perhaps not as much as I miss you.” Bennett bumped his forehead against mine and gently squeezed my waist. I was suddenly very aware of him. “May I kiss you now? Please?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. I grew slightly unsteady when he guided me to the window, closer to the light until my back touched his desk.
Bennett smiled when I asked him what he was doing. “So I can see you better,” he whispered.
Then he kissed me .
His kiss was gentle, though not wholly without passion. I simply melted into him, noting with some delight that he had figured to move his lips since Vandil.
Bennett pulled away after ten blissful seconds. “Did you know what I was going to say to you in Alevine? Before my father interrupted us?”
I shook my head, still reeling from his kiss.
“I think I’m in love with you,” Bennett said softly. He touched my cheek. “And I am. Thoroughly.”
“Oh.” The word was little more than an exhale.
My torso was already tipping forward for another kiss, but we were interrupted by the sound of rustling bushes.
“Your Highness!” Ulysses emerged into the clearing, and promptly slapped a hand over his eyes when he caught sight of us. “I see you have, er... found Lady Narcissa.”
“Indeed.” Bennett stepped back and cleared his throat. I was so muddle-headed that I was hardly ashamed of being caught. “Apologies, Ulysses. I should have listened earlier.”
“Certainly,” Ulysses said. He still didn’t unshield his eyes. “To the banquet, then?”
Bennett squeezed my hand and laughed. “To the banquet.”