Honeyed words and stinging barbs. This is what Luci hated about the court above all—the veiled insults wrapped in pretty words. Life would be much simpler if they just said what they thought, but no, it had to be a dance or politeness.
“Yes, last time I was at court was, oh my goodness.” Luci made a show of thinking. “Well, your face was still red with the affliction of youth. I am glad to see it has since cleared. What a relief that must be for you.”
The villain’s mouth fell open, and Lady Margaret cleared her throat in clear disapproval. Though why was unclear. Luci had delivered the line with perfect politeness and was the epitome of graciousness.
Lady Annabeth shut her mouth abruptly and tilted her head. “That reminds me, how is that sweet orphan your family has been so gracious to take in. I remember she had quite the sharp tongue.”
“Oh my,” Lady Margaret hummed. “Oh, darling, you must excuse us. Brielle hasn’t-”
Whatever she was going to presumptively say to salvage the situation was lost to the abrupt sound of trumpets that were far too aggressive for an indoor party. It was a wonder they couldn’t hear them at Blythe as the offending sound bounced off the gilded walls all around them.
“The royal family.” Lady Margaret whispered in her ear.
Obviously. Who else would warrant such a dramatic flare? Lady Annabeth stood a little taller and came to stand next to Luci as everyone turned to the obscenely tall double doors gilded in golden vines and a green-stemmed red rose at the center. If the castle had ever belonged to another house, history had long forgotten them. Only the Vencias had ruled as far as Meridea was concerned.
The crowd waited in rapt awe as dancers hurried from the floor and into the waiting crowd. Somehow, Luci found herself at the front of the desperate nobles eager to lick their nobility’s shoes. The door opened, and King Rupert and Queen Alexia strode through in finery beyond Luci’s comprehension—Crimson and gold of the finest making. Standing together, they were their house emblem.
Close behind, a masked prince strode through as if he were born to rule over them all. And so he was. Prince Ira was everything a crown prince of Meridea was expected to be—tall, handsome, light brown hair perfectly placed. Lady Annabeth let out a longing sigh, and Luci didn’t try to stop the roll of her eyes this time. It was all just so painfully predictable.
Even knowing what was coming next, the sight of Prince Lucien set her blood on fire, and her hands balled into fists. He reeked of entitlement and self-importance from even where she stood. His masked face wore a smirk that she would gladly haveslapped off his face. Beside him was Princess Gladys, who wore a tight smile even as her red dress glittered with every step.
There could be no mistaking that the family of five was related. They all had defined noses and high cheekbones that spoke of careful breeding. Hair all the same shade of light brown hair, except for the Queen with her long blond curls. The next two to walk out were very clearly not related. Lord Treveon, in his finery, was walking with his chest puffed out with self-importance. Another man of similar humor was standing beside him.
“Our fathers have been indispensable to the king of late,” Annabeth whispered.
Well, at least that answered that question. Of course, it was her father.
Lord Treveon’s beady eyes scanned the room until they landed on her, and it was almost dizzying. A soft breath relaxed his shoulders, and his mouth grew into a wide smile. Pride shining in his eyes even at this distance. It was unnerving, but then she remembered it wasn’t meant for her. It was all for Brielle.
Now all she had to do was keep her distance enough that he didn’t learn the truth of it.
“Doesn’t Prince Ira look handsome tonight?” Annabeth crooned, sickly sweet in her ear.
Luci supposed the crown prince was plenty handsome. Traditionally beautiful without a flaw in sight. Yet it made him boring. There was nothing about him that wasn’t expected. He was exactly who he was bred to be.
When Luci declined to answer, Annabeth scoffed.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you intend, Brielle Treveon. Coming out of your nest on tonight of all nights. You will find that it was all for nothing, though. That proposal is as good as mine,” she said, so only Luci could hear.
Luci snorted. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order,Your Grace.”
Annabeth opened her mouth to speak, but the trumpets finally ended their revelry. A shot of satisfaction ran through Luci at getting the last word. The woman next to her symbolized everything that was wrong with the court. Ambition and greed mixed with each other until the end result was rotten and reeking of decay. She could keep her prince. Luci was here to be Brielle for just one night. An hour more of avoiding Lord Treveon and then she could run home and tell Brielle every detail.
“It is an honor to have you all with us on this magical night.” King Rupert’s voice boomed as all held their breath. “As you know, the Vencia line comes from the time of fairy tales. Our heritage is what makes Meridea strong. Tonight will be an homage to that legacy as my son and heir, Prince Ira, chooses his princess.”
He held out his hand, and Prince Ira stepped forward, nodding once at his father before turning to the crowd. Next to Luci, Annabeth sucked in a breath. Dramatic. Maybe Luci wasn’t one to swoon for a prince, but Brielle would have loved every second of this. It would have been a night that she would have never forgotten. Luci’s heart cracked, and all she could do was play the role Brielle had asked of her.
“My friends, I am grateful to have all of you by my side on this night of destiny. Tonight is a night to celebrate, so raise your drinks and dance till midnight!” Prince Ira said with a too-large smile.
Nonetheless, his proclamation was met with cheers and applause that made Luci’s ears ring. To be fair, he probably could have said anything, and they would have loved it. After all, a land found in fairy tales loved a charming prince, and the smile he wore was all of that and more.
As the crowd dispersed, Lord Treveon approached Prince Ira and gestured toward where Luci and Lady Margaret stood. Oh no, absolutely not. That was not in the description of events she had been given. Be seen. That was it. All she had to do was be seen.
“I think I’ll go get a drink,” Luci said, mouth suddenly very dry.
She turned, but Annabeth linked her arm with hers and held her steady.
“Nonsense, look, here comes Prince Ira.” Leaning down to whisper in her ear, she said. “Let’s put all your daddy’s scheming to rest, shall we?”