Chapter 3
I waited at the top of the stairs for my name to be announced. I’d done this before. Whenever my parents had a ball, I would be announced, allowed to spend a short amount of time at the party and then shuffled off to the ‘children’s’ section. But not tonight. Tonight I was the guest of honour…sort of. My actual birthday ball wasn’t for a month but tonight marked the start of the festivities, so it was still kind of about me as well as a welcome to all the visiting nobles.
I was slightly nervous.
I wanted to make a good impression.
I wanted them to see a young woman when they looked at me, not a child.
I wanted them to see a monarch.
I wanted them to see the future queen of Eudaimonia.
It was a lot of pressure for a red dress and a bit of lipstick.
More had gone into my transformation that that, of course, but still, it was probably all anyone would remember. My garnet-coloured dress glinting in the candlelight, the tiny crystals sprinkled across the skirt winking like the stars in the sky. And my red lips. Red to match the dress.
My ebony hair had been twisted and curled into a gravity-defying hairstyle, thanks to thousands of hair pins, with my tiara nestled among the dark mass, and my skin was buffed and smoothed and powdered to a flawless finish.
It wasn’t lost on me just how much work had gone into making me look this good, and my previous confidence faltered a little.
‘Her royal highness, Princess Snow White, daughter of King Rowan and Queen Eleodora, heir to the Eudaimonian throne,’ the Master of Ceremonies intoned in his full-throated voice to be heard over the music and conversation going on below us.
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the alcove and to the head of the stairs. I counted to five as my gaze swept across the assembled guests, who had all turned to look at me. My eyes snagged on Parisar and the way he blinked up at me, but I forced them to keep moving before they finally came to rest on possibly the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
Prince Elil.
The portrait painters of Querencia had not lied. If anything, they had toned down the startling beauty of the prince. But now, he shone; sparkled brighter than the jewels in the small circlet he wore nestled in his hair. Seeing him in person stole my breath and blanked my brain and I almost tripped down the stairs.
Catching myself at the last moment, I sucked in a breath and forced my eyes away, but I could still feel his gaze on me. It was disconcerting, and to find some sort of steadiness, I instead focussed on Parisar. His familiar and distasteful face would surely help me regain my equilibrium. But Parisar wasn’t looking at me. He was sending death glares toward the other side of the room. I didn’t turn to look because I knew where he was focussed and on whom, and I couldn’t risk glancing at Prince Elil again. Not unless I wanted to make a complete fool of myself.
I took a shaky breath and lifted my skirt just enough so I wouldn’t trip and began my descent. I had practised this too many times to count. Keeping my head lifted, not looking down at my feet, keeping a pleasant smile on my face, focussing on a single point to make sure I didn’t lose my balance, but also trying to make it look like I was scanning the crowd and bestowing a smile on all the guests. Despite this becoming second nature to me over the years, tonight it felt different. Tonight I was too distracted, shaken even, and trying not to tumble spectacularly down the wide wooden staircase felt like an impossibility.
I made it and gratefully took the proffered arm when I reach the bottom without incident. I didn’t even take note of who was helping me until both my feet were firmly and safely planted on the ground. When I did look up, my smile faltered.
Parisar.
His jaw was hard and his eyes flashed as he looked at, not me, but the person standing in front of me. The person who had been too late to offer their arm.
Prince Elil.
Prince Elil smirked at Parisar before bowing deeply to me.
‘Princess,’ he said, his voice deep and rich. ‘It is an honour and a pleasure to meet you.’ He rose back to standing, his full height towering over me. He was even taller than Parisar and I felt the lord shifting beside me in an attempt to make himself look taller, but Elil had him beat.
‘Prince Elil,’ I said, thankful my voice was steady and that I didn’t squeak when I spoke. ‘I’m so glad you could attend.’
He smiled then and it took all my will not to swoon.
I had never swooned. I had read about women swooning at the sight of a man and had scoffed at the impossibility of it. But now I understood.
A line of people had started to gather in order to offer me their greetings, but Elil didn’t rush. He reached for my hand and Parisar further stiffened beside me, his grip tightening on my arm. Elil raised my hand to his lips and brushed the back of it with a feather-light kiss, causing my knees to wobble alarmingly. Thankfully, Parisar had such a firm hold on me that my wobbly knees weren’t noticeable to anyone else.
‘Please make room on your dance card for me,’ Elil said as he let my hand go and drifted into the crowd.
Parisar snorted beside me, but I ignored him, taking a deep breath to clear my head as I smiled at the next person to greet me. Another man. Another prince. His skin dark, his eyes the most spectacular green I had ever seen, and a shock of blonde hair that was slicked back revealing a wide forehead.
Prince Granger of Thalasso.
Again, the portrait painters had done a good job. Prince Granger was as handsome as they had promised him to be.
‘Princess,’ he said, his accent a soft drawl that spoke of lazy summer days. I imagined I could hear the soft shushing of waves in the ‘ess’ sound as he greeted me. He also bowed over my hand and kissed it.
My body didn’t threaten to swoon that time but I did start to feel warm all over until he released my hand.
I took another deep breath to steady myself. My mouth was dry but I wouldn’t get anything to drink until I had made the introductions.
The next in line was the next prince. Char. His chestnut-coloured hair shone under the chandeliers and a sprinkling of freckles over his nose gave him a boyish charm. His eyes were blue and sparkled with what I assumed was mischief. I felt my nerves ebb as he took my hand and bowed low over it. Prince Char felt like someone who could be a friend.
‘Princess Snow,’ he said when he rose, flashing me a wide grin. ‘It is so lovely to be here and meet you. I love your gown, by the way. It is spectacular.’
‘Thank you,’ I replied with a smile of my own. ‘It is lovely to meet you as well.’
The next hour was a blur of people and faces as I formally met every single guest in attendance. Parisar stayed by my side the entire time and as my feet began to ache, I leaned on him more and more. Finally, with the last guest met, I was free to sit, at least for a few minutes until I would then be required to dance.
A cool glass was pressed into my hand and I swallowed the drink gratefully, not realising what it was I was drinking. I barely contained a choking cough as the bubbles and alcohol hit my throat.
‘Steady there, Snow,’ Parisar said softly beside me.
He didn’t call me Snow anymore. Not since we were children. Not since that final summer when our friendship had dissolved overnight. Hearing it now was both comforting and not.
‘You could have warned me,’ I replied snarkily. ‘I thought it was water.’
Parisar huffed but didn’t say anything. I didn’t know why I was being a brat, just that things had been like this between us for so long I didn’t know how else to act. He stood so close to me all through the receiving line and let me lean on him and…I should be grateful. Instead it made me uncomfortable and that made me snarky.
I took another sip from the glass, not choking this time and turned to apologise for my comment when my eyes caught Prince Elil as he moved toward me.
How was it even possible for him to be so…gorgeous? It wasn’t natural. It couldn’t be. Except…there he was, standing in front of me, dazzling me with his smile and making my heart flutter in a way it had never done before. And when he spoke, well, I was just glad I was already seated.
‘Princess,’ he said softly, bowing low. ‘May I have this first dance?’
I nodded and lifted my hand for him to take. My sore feet forgotten, I floated behind him as he led us to the dance floor.
Everyone watched us as Prince Elil twirled me around the floor. His dancing was impeccable and not a single lock of hair moved as he danced. It wouldn’t dare. The very world held its breath for Prince Elil to ensure that nothing marred his beauty…or maybe that was just me holding my breath.
His hair was a glossy brown streaked with golden highlights that glowed under the chandeliers above us. The circlet he wore sat perfectly nestled into his hair, as if it were part of him, the jewels winking at me welcomingly. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist and I had to tilt my head to look into his eyes. He was taller than Parisar, probably taller than my father. The king had always been larger than life to me, a bear of a man whose hugs made me feel completely surrounded and safe. Elil did not have the width of my father, but his height gave me the same warm feeling of being secure. And the way he looked down at me…phew. There was something in his eyes, something I’d never seen before in the eyes of anyone else and it made my insides warm and soften and my skin prickle with…I don’t know what. Anticipation? Expectation? Want?
My nerves blazed where his palm rested on my back, and my hand felt small in his. In fact, he made me feel small all over. Not small as in diminished, but petite, delicate, precious.
We didn’t speak, but his hazel eyes never left mine. He stared into my very soul as if he could read my thoughts and know my heart. There was no need for words…we’d connected without conversation.
Then our connection was broken. My hand was taken out of his and I was spun out of his arms. There was a palpable breaking of that very connection we’d forged and I opened my mouth to protest but someone else spoke instead.
‘Get yourself together, Princess,’ Parisar growled as he twirled me away from Elil. ‘You are making a fool of yourself.’
I blinked, looking up at Parisar. His jaw was tight and his eyes flashed dangerously. He was angry, but why?
‘I thought I was supposed to dance with the guests,’ I said, finding my voice and thankful it was steady because my feet certainly weren’t. I was decidedly unsteady like I’d been awoken from a deep sleep and hadn’t quite come back to reality.
‘Dance with them,’ Parisar spat. ‘Not drool over them.’
I blinked again, taking in Parisar’s countenance and then I narrowed my eyes. ‘Are you…jealous?’ I hissed. It was ludicrous to think so but…
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he ground out. ‘I am trying to save you from embarrassing not only yourself but your parents and the rest of the Eudaimonia court as well. Do you have any idea how idiotic you looked gazing up at him like he was…’
‘He was what?’ I asked, reality finally reasserting itself in my brain and body. The soft dream-like sensation of dancing with Elil had drifted away, just like any other dream upon waking. Maybe I had imagined it?
‘He didn’t hang the moon, Snow,’ Parisar spat, his brown eyes boring into me with an intensity I’d never seen from him.
The vehemence of his gaze and the use of my name did weird things to me. I was hot and cold and my skin prickled. His touched burned me, not in an unpleasant way but also in an entirely different way than Elil’s touch had. I tried to pull away, but he held me firm.
‘Don’t run from me,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘The whole assembly is watching.’
I stopped trying to pull away, but I held myself stiffly, letting him lead me around the floor but making sure to keep as much distance as I could between us.
I refused to look at him, focussing on the red rose he had pinned to his suit coat. The same red rose he’d picked in the garden that afternoon. The same red rose that matched my dress.
Had he worn it on purpose? Had he worn it for me?
No. Parisar wasn’t sentimental. If anything, he would have only worn it to goad me, except I’d been too mesmerised by Elil to notice. That was probably why he was so angry. He hadn’t gotten the reaction from me he had wanted.
As soon as the music ended, I stepped out of his arms. His hands hesitated for the briefest moment before he let me go. I dropped a curtsey to him, more just a dip of my head, before spinning on my heel and striding away, looking for my next partner. Anything to get away from Parisar.
Prince Char stepped into my path and I smiled gratefully at him.
‘May I have this dance?’ he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
‘Absolutely,’ I replied, taking his hand and ignoring the heated brand of Parisar’s eyes on my back.
I stepped out of the ballroom and walked to the edge of the balcony. Resting my hands on the stone balustrade, I lifted my face to the sky, closed my eyes, and breathed in the warm summer night. The scent of roses and night jasmine filled the air and my nose.
I had danced all night, had spoken to everyone I was supposed to speak to, had behaved like a princess should and yet…I still felt empty. I didn’t know what I had expected. It was my first real formal occasion, my ‘debut’. The first time I was the guest of honour and I suppose I expected to feel important or adored or…who knew what. But in truth, I was just tired. Wrung out and pining for my bed and sleep.
‘You must be exhausted,’ a voice said beside me. A voice I knew, although it was new to me.
I smiled and turned to look at Prince Elil. Despite the low light of the balcony, there was a glow around him highlighting his features. He flashed a smile.
‘I don’t suppose it is very gentlemanly to say such a thing,’ he said.
‘I admire someone who is willing to speak the truth,’ I said.
‘I don’t mean to imply that you look exhausted,’ he said, gazing down sheepishly, his cheeks colouring. ‘Just that I noticed you’ve barely had a chance to sit and you’ve danced so often that I am surprised you are still standing.’
I laughed. ‘You are not wrong,’ I replied. ‘I am exhausted and just between you and me, my feet are killing me.’
Knowing he noticed how many times I danced; knowing he had been watching me all night and cataloguing my every move made me feel tingly all over. Prince Elil had a way about him that made me feel I was the centre of his universe.
Hazel eyes crinkled at the edges as his mouth curved into a smile. ‘It will be our little secret,’ he said, lowering his voice and leaning toward me as he spoke.
I suppressed a shiver at his words and the low timbre that vibrated through me. It thrilled me we had a secret, even if it was the pain level of my feet.
‘Have you eaten?’ he asked holding out one of my favourite sweets.
A little cake of dense chocolate was sitting on a china plate cradled in his hand. It was topped with swirls of chocolate cream and nestled on the very peak was a glistening cherry.
My stomach growled in response, reminding me I’d had little more than a nibble at anything all night. I blushed, looking away and biting my lip. Elil reached out with his other hand, tucking his finger under my chin and causing a riot of fireworks to explode along my nerve endings. He tilted my chin up and back to him so he could see my eyes.
‘Don’t be embarrassed,’ he said, his voice low, lower than before and yet it seemed to reverberate all through me. ‘It can be another little secret between us.’
He held the cake higher and my eyes darted to it. I was suddenly ravenous and only years of princess training restrained me from not devouring it in one bite. I reached out and plucked the cake from his hand, smiling a thank you up at him.
‘Look out!’
The shout came too late and someone barrelled into me. The cake went flying out of my hands, arcing into the air and falling over the balcony to the garden below a moment before something cold and wet drenched me.
The shock startled me out of the bubble I had been in with Prince Elil and I turned on the perpetrator to see Parisar standing there with a not-so-apologetic smirk. An annoyed look flashed across Elil’s face before he smoothed his features and looked at me with concern. I knew what I must look like as whatever Parisar had spilled on me dripped from my nose. The front of my dress was drenched and my hair was plastered to my head. Had Parisar dumped an entire bucket over me?
Parisar bowed low. ‘My apologies, Princess,’ he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. ‘I tried to warn you.’
‘An apology is hardly enough to make up for what you’ve done,’ Elil said before I could reply. ‘You have ruined her gown.’ He turned to me, concern in his eyes. ‘Are you okay?’
I nodded, too angry with Parisar to speak. I tried to smile at Elil, but I doubt it was successful. It probably looked more like a grimace.
‘I have indeed ruined your gown,’ Parisar said. ‘You should probably retire for the night.’
It was both what I wanted and the last thing I wanted to do. I couldn’t wait to crawl into my bed, but I also didn’t want to leave Elil. But then another drip fell from my nose, and I realised what a mess I must be. The last thing I wanted was for Elil to see me in this state.
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ I said, drawing away from the two men and making my escape from the ball. I used the servants’ entrance and the back stairs to my room, refusing to cry. I wasn’t sad, I was mad. They were angry tears. Anger at Parisar for ruining the moment with Elil. Anger with a tinge of embarrassment too. How would I face Elil tomorrow?