Chapter 55
I don’t recognize myself.
Hair in waves over one shoulder, eyes smoked with charcoal, lips stained red. The green dress compliments my hair and eyes, its bodice draping asymmetrically over one shoulder, skirt falling like a waterfall to my ankles. My shoes peek out from under the hem, silver like my earrings, adding additional height to my frame.
“Perfection,” Beau says, smiling behind me.
Sassia holds a silver chain around my waist. “What do you think?” It’s Beau’s dress, the silver belt custom-made to match her metal rope.
I shake my head. “I think it’s fine without it.”
The maidservant makes small noise of agreement, having come a long way since the time she first escorted me to my room. “I think so too.” She speaks a half step above a whisper now.
I turn to Beau, taking in her normal garb as she swings her legs where they’re draped over the side of the chair. Illegitimate children are not permitted to attend royal dinners. Though Beau is third under her father’s command, even she is not permitted to attend royal dinners as an illegitimate child. I wish I could have her by my side. Tonight may perhaps be the most important night of my life. Of all of our lives.
Sitting up, she props her chin on a fist, elbow braced on the arm of the chair. “Remember what I told you. You belong here as much as anyone else.
Act like it.”
Easier said than done. While the kitchen and waitstaff have grown accustomed to me, the parishioners have not. They don’t shy away from
me, and while there are no actively open naysayers, for fear of being hung on the wall, there are also no polite smiles of support. To the courtiers, I’m nothing more than a curious mouse in the halls.
This dinner is a farce. It’s supposed to be a celebration of my return, of the completion of Acker’s quest to save me from the Alaha and Wren’s hands, but there’s not a single person besides Acker, Beau, and Hallis who is even mildly excited to see me.
Every now and then a soldier will help me during morning training, offering corrections when needed, or an even-more-rare compliment. But their interactions with me are kept to a bare minimum under the watchful eye of the court monitoring from the veranda, especially when the king has come to observe. His eyes always feel like the relentless heat of a thousand suns on our backs.
There’s a knock at the door, and the maidservant opens it, announcing Hallis’s presence. I tell her to let him in.
Dressed in the blackest finery, he looks dashing, hair slicked perfectly into place, black lapels of his formal attire accentuating his broard shoulders underneath. As he nods to us, I see a velvet box in his hand. I sense more than see Beau’s intake of breath, and I’m pretty sure he grins in response.
“Stand and let me see,” he says, motioning for me to rise with the box in his hand.
Standing from my seat at the mirror, I tug on the material of my skirt so it falls without creasing. I know it’s only Hallis, but the scan of his eyes over me makes me self-conscious, and my blush gives me away.
Hallis is a gentleman and doesn’t poke fun, which is a surprise. “You look beautiful, Jovie.”
“Thanks,” I say, looking at myself in the full-length mirror once more. It feels like a lifetime since I envied the women at the Market. Now, here I am, dressed in even more exquisite finery, my heart tender around the edges.
“Acker was called into council with his father, so he sent me to deliver this.” He opens the box and holds up a string of silver and pearls. “May I?”
I hold my hair aside so he can drape the jewelry around my neck, pinning it to my collarbone with my spare hand.
“Cadence’s threaded pearls,” Beau says, standing to help Hallis with the clasp. The awe in her voice catches me by surprise.
“As in…?” I ask.
“Acker’s mother,” Hallis answers.
I run my fingers over the pearls, heart squeezing in my chest. It somehow gives me the boost of morale I need to walk into a room full of unwelcoming stares and judgment.
Hallis offers his arm, and I slide my hand into the crook of his elbow.
“Ready?” he asks.
I take a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be.”
Beau smiles. “You’re yellow,” she says, running a hand over my exposed shoulder in a comforting gesture as she walks ahead of us to the door. “Try to enjoy yourself.” Then her gaze slides to Hallis. “And you too —looking as gray as ever.”
Hallis actually smiles at her. “Good night, Beau.”
We watch her back as she retreats down the hall, disappearing around the corner. “Does she know?” I ask him.
“Know what?” he says, sparing me a glance as we turn in the opposite
direction.
“That you’re in love with her.”
He doesn’t miss a step or so much as blink at my bold statement. “Beau thinks everyone is in love with her, so probably.”
We walk in easy silence, passing a couple of maidservants who dip their heads in respectful nods, gestures we return in kind. We run into Henry on his way to the kitchen, dressed in his finest apron, and he stops us to rave about how handsome we look. He’s excited for me to taste his balsam- glazed sprouts.
Bidding him farewell, we stop in one of the chambers that branch off from the dining hall. Hallis gives me a steadying look. I nod but stop short at the sound of footsteps coming up behind us.
Turning, we see Acker emerge from the shadows, legs eating the distance between us with quick strides. Dressed in a green a few shades
darker than my own, he takes in my dress, my face, the silver string of pearls at my collarbone.
“Jovie.” His hand snakes around my waist, pulling me to him for a kiss.
“You are…” He shakes his head, eyes fluttering over my features, my neck.
“Indescribable.”
“What are you doing here?” Hallis says, unthreading his arm from my hand. “Your father said—”
Acker cuts him off. “I know what he said.” He dips his head to the pulse of my neck, inhaling before placing a kiss to the tender spot. “And I’ve decided I don’t care,” he says, eyes clear when he looks at me. “Shall we?”
He presents his arm, and a huge part of me relaxes in his presence, smiling as I settle my hand in the crease of his elbow.
“Acker,” Hallis says in warning.
Acker’s head whips around. “I said, I don’t care,” He snaps.
Hallis is as shocked as I am. Maybe even more so, eyes wide as he stares at his closest friend.
Clenching his teeth, Acker releases a breath through his nose. “Jovie is my match, and nothing is going to stand in the way of that,” he says, straightening the cuffs of his finery. “Not you. Not some bullshit alliance.
And definitely not my father.”
Sensing he’s on the losing end of this argument, Hallis releases a breath, eyes sliding toward the entrance to the dining hall. “I’ll go first. At least I’ll get a good view of the show.” He dips his head in farewell, eyes lingering on Acker before sliding to me. “Princess,” he says, then walks around the bend in the hall.
“I’m getting the sense your father isn’t willing to break the alliance with Strou.”
Acker places his spare hand over the one I have tucked in his arm.
“Once we walk in there, he won’t have a choice.”
With me at his side, he means.
In my heels, I’m closer to his height. “A more honorable woman would attempt to change your mind,” I say, meeting his gaze.
His grin is nothing less than lascivious. “Honor is for the pious,” he says, leaning in to kiss me.
It’s all heat and promise, and I’m sad that it’s so short-lived. Some of the stain of my lips transfers to his mouth, so I reach to wipe it with the pad of my thumb, but he pulls away.
“Leave it.” With a dangerous look in his eyes, he ushers me to the end of the hall. “Walk to the dais. I’ll be right behind you.”
“You’re not going to walk with me,” I say, stopping in my tracks.
“I’ll be right behind you,” he assures me, hand on the small of my back.
“You’ll feel me the entire time.”
I don’t like it, but he places another soft kiss on my lips, as if never occurred to him to ever resist placing his mouth on mine. I’m going to have to trust him.
I turn and face the draped opening to the hall, lit brightly beyond the veil … and step through. Any hope I had of going unnoticed is quickly dashed when heads immediately swivel in my direction. Acker keeps his promise, fingertips pressed against the dip of my spine as we walk down the center aisle of tables, our steps echoing off the stone floor and up to the golden ceiling. Even the helmeted heads of the soldiers lining the room turn and watch.
I maintain my focus on the dais, on the king as he laughs with a nobleman before taking notice of the dimming noise of the party. His eyes lock on me as he turns, then his son, face reddening in anger at the sight of this clear insubordination.
Slowing to a stop at the base of the platform, I dip my head in the way the Kenta do in greeting, bowing as much as I can in my skirt and heels to show my servitude. “Your highness,” I greet him.
Acker doesn’t do anything of the sort. Stepping before me, he looks his father in the eye, an unspoken challenge as he offers me a guiding hand up the stairs. Acker leads me around the table to the seats on the other side, facing the congregation. We pass the filled chairs where a man and woman with blonde hair and light eyes sit. Acker pulls out the nearest to the middle, and I sit with as much grace as I can muster.
Then, in his most daring move yet, Acker places his hands on the bare skin of my shoulders, leaning down to kiss my cheek in front of the entire assembly. I’m impressed with my ability to keep my blush at bay.
Acker takes a goblet from the table and lifts it toward the congregation.
“To the lost princess of Maile,” he announces. “And to her safe return.”
Murmurs of stunned reverence travel across the room as the people lift their drinks, mostly out of respect for their prince. Acker drinks from his cup, eyes sharp as he takes in his acolytes, daring someone to appear less than pleased. His gaze is heavy, assessing, dangerous.
I was wrong to be scared of Acker when he sat on the throne that first day of our arrival, not when I’m on his side of the equation. I look up at him and lift my goblet. In adoration and appreciation, I speak the words without fanfare. They’re nothing more than an observation.
“All hail the prince of Kenta.”
A louder, more pronounced round of agreement rings out.
All hail the prince of Kenta!
The prince who killed on the battlefield for his people, who risked life and limb to bring hope back to his land by returning a symbol of peace from
its past.
All hail the prince of Kenta!
I look at the king, sitting red-faced and indignant, and a smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. It seems the people have spoken.
The riotous cheers fizzle as a woman steps through the veiled opening, drawing the attention of the entire room. Irina steps forward, blonde hair piled high on her head, red dress dripping from her shoulders. Strou’s color, I realize, matching the garments her parents wear, sitting unmoving to my right.
She begins her glide down the center of the room, heels clacking against the marble floor, neck empty of jewels. Her beauty is almost ethereal, and although I’m the one sitting to Acker’s right, I can’t help but feel inadequate to be his match. Her assured steps falter as she gets closer to the stage, eyes quickly surveying the lack of remaining seats, her fuming parents … Me in her seat.
Acker drapes a wrist over the back of my chair and winks at me, completely unfazed by the silent humiliation of the girl lost and alone at the foot of dais. He finishes his wine and slams the goblet down on the table.
“Where’s the food?” he says, looking around in question. “I thought we were here to eat, so let’s eat.”
A maidservant appears with a decanter to refill his cup, then another enters, and another, and suddenly the dining hall is flooded with servants delivering dish upon dish of food to the tables, ours filling up fastest.
Bracing his elbow against the table, he sips from his refilled goblet. “I ran into Henry in the hall,” he says, leaping into conversation.
I pretend to pay close attention to Acker’s tale, smiling at the identical interaction Hallis and I had with the cook, but I am aware of Irina as she finally takes the hint and walks off, heels clicking in her hasty retreat.
Not long after, her parents abandon their spots as well. And Henry wasn’t wrong. His sprouts really are incredible.
