Chapter 12 Zara
Chapter twelve
Zara
“Ithink we should go without a corset tonight. Just to give your lungs and ribcage a break after what happened this morning.” Emlyn twists my long hair into an elaborate updo with tiny braids and flower buds woven in.
She then ties it together, forming one long and intricate braid that hangs down along my spine.
“Sure. Whatever you say.” I pout at my reflection in the mirror, and she stops what she’s doing, frowning at me.
“Oh, come on. You knew this was going to happen eventually.” She continues to tug my loose pieces of hair into the braid.
“I know. It’s just—"
She wiggles her eyebrows in the glass, her amber eyes gleaming with mischief. “It’s just the courtier you were with last night?”
“Who was he?” I whine and get to my feet when I’m certain she’s done fixing my hair. “What if I never see him again?”
She helps me into a floor-length silk slip, then slides a glittering purple gown over my head. “Then it will be nothing new. Let’s be honest. It’s not like you’ve never met someone, did some kissing, then never saw them again.”
“That’s fair. But he was different…” My voice trails and I smooth my hands over my skirts, admiring the purple tulle and silk that clings snugly, but tastefully, around my breasts and hips.
“Well, forget about him. You have a prince waiting! It’s hardly something to be so upset about.
I wish I had a prince waiting to marry me.
” She sticks her tongue out at me in the mirror and fastens the buttons on the back of the gown, before helping me into a pair of silk slippers.
“There. You look amazing.” She takes my hand and stands in front of me, a genuine smile on her lips.
“Prince Leer is going to be amazing too.”
The gardens look magnificent.
The flower lined paths and wolf-shaped topiaries are draped in tiny golden lights.
They twinkle in time to the four-string quartet softly playing near a stone dance floor that was laid out over the emerald grass just this morning.
Pixies no bigger than my hand flutter merrily overhead, leaving waves of sparkling dust in their wake.
It sprinkles down upon the guests like diamond raindrops as they dance and feast on the endless selection of roast pig and decadent fruits and berries.
Female courtiers are dressed in brightly colored taffeta and silk gowns and the males wear black tuxedos with crimson or gold bowties, all of them shining as brightly as the stars beginning to dot the darkening navy sky.
I wait patiently next to my father at a single table tucked beneath a pergola covered in gardenias, behaving for a change.
I still haven’t spoken to him after ditching the party last night, and he acted as though nothing had happened when I came down to breakfast this morning.
Perhaps, on some level, he understands my hesitation to an arranged marriage.
He and my mother were deeply in love when they were wed.
Maybe, he wishes I could have the same experience.
Elara already let me know that my dress is a horrid color that washes me out, and I’ve since ignored her insults, turning my attention to the dancing and drinking courtiers.
I know I shouldn’t, but I’m hoping to spot the handsome stranger from last night, but he’s nowhere to be found.
Did I imagine the entire encounter? I couldn’t have.
Alix had a very real reaction to me kissing him at the tavern, so that’s something.
A loud beating of drums erupts throughout the gardens alerting guests someone of note is entering the party.
“His Royal Majesty, King Hardin of Lanray, and His Highness, Prince Leer.” The Herald’s voice carries over the noise of music and laughter, and everyone pauses in their reverie, lowering into deep bows to greet the royal family from their neighboring court.
Two tall males strut through the crowd, heads held high and regal.
The first wears a violet overcoat decorated with medals and a black sash lies across his chest. A small and simple silver crown rests atop his dark hair.
Bits of gray peppers his hair just above his pointed ears, and he beams at my father as he nears our table, lines deepening around his bright blue eyes and wrinkling his forehead and the sides of his smile.
He stands in front of our table and dips his chin in respect before leaning in to offer my father a handshake.
“Jeffery. This meeting feels familiar,” King Hardin winks at my father and taps his shoulder, assessing his comrade.
“Please allow me to, finally, introduce you to my son, Prince Leer.” Hardin sweeps his arm behind him to present the prince.
The second male grins at my father and then bows low. As he stands, he glances at me and winks. His ice-blue eyes shine with mischief and the corner of his mouth curls up slightly.
My mouth hangs open and my entire body ignites as if it’s over a hundred degrees. The strange courtier isn’t a courtier at all.
He’s the Crown Prince of Lanray. Leer. My betrothed.
But then who…why…? I gaze at the prince for several moments, trying to decipher what really occurred last night, but Elara’s voice breaks through my brain fog.
“Zara, aren’t you going to give the king and prince a proper welcome?” She leans around my father, sneering and clearly embarrassed by my lack of acknowledgement.
Prince Leer flashes a half-smile at me and heat fills my cheeks.
My knees wobble as I clumsily curtsy. “It is an honor, Your Majesties.” I’m not sure whether I’m excited that the male I was with last night is Leer, or livid that he didn’t tell me.
Or completely ashamed that I was with him thinking he was anyone other than my betrothed.
I might pass out again.
King Hardin and Prince Leer simultaneously bow, and I’m frozen in place as Leer closes the space between us and takes my hand in his, lifting it to his lips. My body heats in all the right places, and I emit an embarrassing laugh-like noise as he kisses my knuckles.
I can practically feel Alix rolling his eyes behind my chair, and I glare at him from over my shoulder. He’s staring blankly ahead like a good soldier, but the corners of his mouth are turned up slightly, smothering a grin. Jerk.
“The honor is mine, surely,” Leer responds as he looks up at me with those baby blues hooded by his long lashes. He’s a perfect specimen. He’s tall and lean, and the outline of his muscular arms and chest peek out from beneath his white-collared dress shirt. My stomach flips.
Unlike his father, Leer has skipped the niceties of his royal jacket and sash, but his appearance is still unmistakably regal. He continues to hold my palm in his and we gaze at each other, waiting for our parents to move on from the proper introductions.
I can’t draw my stare from his magnetic face. Instant attraction doesn’t quite cover the feeling taking over me. It’s more like love at first sight. Okay, at second sight, as silly and cliché as the concept might be.
But then—here we are. I’m suddenly less upset about being forced into an arranged marriage.
Leer jerks his chin toward the dance floor. “Shall we, My Lady?”
I reluctantly allow him to lead me onto the stone floor under the blanket of stars and rising moon and he immediately pulls me to his chest, one of his arms wrapped tight around my waist and the other taking my hand.
I tentatively drape my arm over his shoulders, and we start to move to the smooth and magical sounds from the string quartet.
His breath is warm against my ear, and flashbacks of his lips on mine race through my mind. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” I whisper just as he spins me and twirls me back into his arms.
“You didn’t seem too excited about meeting me before the dinner party last night. You were utterly terrified by what I gathered. I thought you’d be more likely to talk to me if I was someone else.” His arm tightens possessively around my waist, and the thrum of his heart vibrates against my chest.
“But aren’t you upset? That I ran, I mean? And, after what happened between us—” I glance around at the other dancers twirling and swaying around us. The last thing I need is for someone to overhear me talk about our indiscretions. Mostly mine.
He pulls me closer, his lips lightly brushing against the shell of my ear.
“If you're asking if I’m angry that you were intimate with someone whom you thought was a stranger. Then…no.” He pulls back slightly so we are face to face.
“I would think that you have every right to be angry with me as well.”
I shrug. Perhaps I’m a little upset. Mostly because I despise being lied to, but I’m not innocent in this story either. “Wait. Who is Alfrie?” I ask. “Or is that simply a name you choose to use when meeting females in untoward locations?” A smile tugs at my lips.
The left side of his mouth curls up, a dimple pinching his cheek.
“No.” Leer spins me away from him and pulls me in, so my back is against his chest. He lowers his mouth to my ear, and I exhale sharply, a blissful shudder racing along my spine, “Alfrie is my squire. My friend, really. He’s someone I can always count on to be discreet. ”
That’s a relief. My mind finally starts putting the puzzle pieces together from the tavern. There was a third male. He must have been the actual ‘Alfrie’. “He was there. Last night in the underground.” A flash of startling green eyes infiltrates my memory, and I shake it away.
“Yes. He arrived with your bodyguard. Do you really not remember?” Leer turns me to face him again, his hand resting on my lower back, rather firmly. “He’s here tonight, standing next to your guard.” Leer nods to the corner where Alix is hovering behind the royal table.