The sun’s fading rays gleamed through tall, rounded windows, casting the marble floors with a champagne light. Ryia and I silently followed behind her parents as we strolled through the unrecognizable halls of the Alterio mansion. Now adorned with thin silks and flowers, they barely resembled what I had seen just a few days prior. As we neared the main hall, the swish of fabric brushing against itself was slowly drowned out by the muddled voices and music coming from the set of heavy oak doors at the end of the hallway.
A nod to the waiting servant was all it took for the doors to crack open, allowing the warm glow and light music to flood the hallway. A pearly, curved staircase was all that separated me from the sprawling extravagance of the main hall. Over a hundred noble lords and ladies already mingled below, their lavish outfits bright blooms of color against the white floors.
With a stabilizing hand on the delicately carved marble railing, I started towards the main floor, where delicate flower arrangements spotted every surface, sprawling across tables and wrapping around great Corinthian pillars. Arched windows gave a glimpse of the swiftly darkening skies and the outdoor balconies that overlooked the perfectly manicured gardens. Even more enchanting were the chandeliers, whose golden candlelight refracted through crystal shards, bathing the room with twinkling rainbows that danced along with the guests. Once on the main floor, the clacks of our heels reverberated through the hall.
As we walked through the crowds and towards the dais that had been put up for this occasion, my attention was split between taking in the gorgeous décor and trying not to step on the layered, baby blue dress I wore. With gossamer that itched my shoulders and dangling blue topaz earrings, Ryia’s pick, I’d never felt so out of place in my clothes. If this was going to be my life from now, which seemed more and more likely with each passing, I’d have to get used to the finery. As odd as it felt, half of me did enjoy playing dress-up. When we reached the dais, I copied Ryia as she curtsied. Ryia’s father greeted the king, and as the two men talked, I could get a good look at the royal family.
The king was a burly man who looked out of place in his finery and crown. With a scar slashed across the left side of his jaw and golden eyes harsher than his son’s, he seemed more fit for a battlefield than a royal ball. The queen consort sat to his right, her blood-red dress spilling off her throne and onto the surrounding floor. Her blonde hair was swept up into an intricate updo, finished off with her diamond and pearl-encrusted tiara. Staring at the queen, I could imagine Ryia sitting on that throne and the fake smile she’d no doubt be sporting.
Sawyer sat to his left, wearing a red jacket. Black boots came up to his knees, his white pants tucked into them. With a golden coronet on his head, as much as I hated to admit it, he did look quite regal.
“Your daughter has become quite the beauty,” the king said. His deep voice was unexpectedly jovial. “Isn’t that right, Prince?”
I looked over and watched as Sawyer took in every aspect of Ryia. His eyes scanned her, starting at the bottom of the pink dress she’d told him she’d be wearing, and trailed up her body, only pausing as he eyed the necklace he’d given her. When he saw it, some sort of primal fire lit in his eyes.
“Indeed, you do look stunning,” Sawyer responded, his sharp features trained neutral as he continued to stare at Ryia. Her thin smile did its best to hide the panicked phrase running through her head.
Please don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything.
If Sawyer noticed her growing discomfort, he did nothing to help it. He seemed to feed off the attention, basking in the murmurs and stares the crowds threw Ryia’s way.
“That necklace is,” a smile slithered its way across his red lips, “exquisite… A gift, I presume?” The entire ballroom had fallen into a hush as everyone watched the conversation unfolding. No doubt this would be the talk of high society for weeks to come.
The rustling of her silk dress was the only sound that could be heard in the nearly silent hall as Ryia raised her stare to meet his. If anyone had yet to connect the dots, they’d put it together by now. With that question, that taunting question, he had claimed her in front of the most important people in the empire.
“A very generous one,” Ryia answered, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Her hands shook, barely noticeable to anyone else, but they shook. Whether it was in anger or anxiety, or both, I didn’t know. By the time she stood up fully, she’d managed to compose herself. After a few more pleasantries between our party and the three royals, we finally made our way back into the crowd.
The further away we got from the dais, the more the color returned to her face. It wasn’t until the conversations of others returned to their normal volume that she looked as cheery as she had when we first arrived. “Would you like to go socialize?” Ryia clasped my hands and smiled, the candlelight once again twinkling in her honey-colored eyes like stars. Still lost in awe, a slight nod was all I could return.
She led me through the maze of high society, waving and greeting lords and ladies whose names I should’ve known but didn’t. A few gave me a parting glance, but most focused solely on Ryia, judging everything from the whisps of her chestnut hair to the lace trimmings of her pale pink skirt. It only took a few forced conversations for me to regrey saying yes to walking around with her,
“Ryia, June, it’s nice to see you here!” I turned to see Oliver dragging Lawrence away from a group of young lords. Both Ryia and I let out a small sigh of relief at the familiar faces. The two boys stopped in front of us, exchanging greetings.
Standing next to Lawrence, it was clear just how tall he was. He wore a gold embroidered, moss green jack that complimented his hazel eyes more than I cared to admit. His dirty blond waves, now more tamed, framed the sharp planes of his face. With his bright grin and freckles that peppered his skin, he had a charm that had certainly caught the attention of several noble ladies around us. He noticed me checking him out and winked at me, playful enough that I rolled my eyes in return.
Compared to Oliver, Lawrence’s current mood was anything but pleasant. The dark blues of his clothes matched perfectly with his his grim face. Given the stormy blue eyes that refused to look in Ryia’s direction, I was relatively certain that it had something to do with a golden-eyed prince and the pink jewels strung around her neck.
“Doesn’t Ryia look beautiful, Lawrence?” Oliver asked, nudging Lawrence, who was currently glaring at a pillar with great disdain.
He eventually looked at her, and with a heavy sigh, his features softened. “You do look beautiful, both of you do,” he added with a quick nod in my direction before scowling at Oliver. After a bit of conversation, Lawrence’s mood lightened. But, in an instant, any light that had come to Lawrence’s eyes winked out as Sawyer made his way towards us, the crowd parting for him like the Red Sea. Everyone straightened as Sawyer stopped in front of our little group. I could practically hear Lawrence’s teeth grinding behind me. Oliver threw his hand out to block Lawrence, and I wasn’t sure it was entirely a joke.
“I’d be honored,” Sawyer said, eyes locked on Ryia. His straight, blond hair shifted under the gold coronet. which told everyone precisely who he was, as he bowed his head, “if you’d dance with me, Lady Ryia.”
“The honor would be all mine,” Ryia replied, bowing her head in return.
Sawyer reached out his hand, which Ryia slowly took. No matter how uncomfortable it made her, there was no way Ryia could’ve rejected him, no escaping him with all the eyes watching. And Sawyer knew that. As they walked away, Sawyer tossed a look over his shoulder and flashed a gloating smile that lasted long enough for only me to notice.
I win, he had said with those burning, golden eyes. I gritted my teeth as I watched the two of them dance, Ryia’s movements as stiff as possible while still maintaining the elegance she’d trained over the years. With everyone’s attention on the unfolding scene, the only smiles in the room came from Ryia’s father and the emperor.
After a few songs together, Sawyer bowed and stalked back to the dais, leaving Ryia alone on the edge of the dance floor. Even from where I stood across the room, I could see the vultures of high society begin to circle. If I wanted the timing to work out, I needed to get Lawrence, now.
“Lawrence,” I turned to him, “you should go ask Ryia to dance now that Sawyer has left her.”
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“Really?” Lawrence gestured to himself, “are you sure that’s a good idea?” He kept his features neutral, but no amount of restraint could keep his eyes from brimming with excitement.
“Yes,” I nodded and directed him with my eyes, “I’m sure she could use the relief, but hurry before the next song starts.” I shooed him away, and he walked towards her a little faster than normal.
Once Lawrence was out of earshot, Oliver hissed playfully, “liar,”
“What?” I snapped, scrunching my nose as I nudged him, “you know he’s too tense around her to intervene intentionally.”
“That’s a good point,” he laughed, his eyes trained on Lawrence, “you know him surprisingly well.” I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip instead of responding. Across from us, the girls were confronting Ryia, exactly as they had in the original book. I shifted on my feet, more anxious than I thought I’d be as I waited.
❧
As soon as she’d been left alone, Ryia could sense the group of ladies coming up behind her. She turned to greet them, immediately recognizing them as nobles from the central province. In the front was Karina Taylor, daughter of one of the wealthier counts.
“Ryia,” Karina greeted Ryia, her voice a deadly purr. She closed in on Ryia, toying with the wine glass in her hand. Its red contents matched the coils of her hair that was swept into a half-up, half-down style, “that was quite the spectacle there. So, the rumors that you’re courting his highness must be true.”
“Such rumors are baseless,” Ryia responded quietly. She gripped the fabric of her skirt, keeping emotions in check, “it was simply a gesture of goodwill.” The other girls circled behind Karina, each of them staring at Ryia with the same contempt. Ryia’s calm denial angered the girl further, her dark green eyes sizzling as she snapped.
“We know that’s a lie, and so do,” the lady spat, curls bouncing as she shook her head in disgust, “just look at yourself, how dare you act like you’re better than us because of some gaudy necklace?”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Ryia breathed in, trying to keep the composure she’d held all night. She took a step back, eyes frantically searching the crowd for someone, anyone, that she knew.
“Well, we can tell how if the rumors are true by watching how his royal highness reacts when his damsel is in distress.” Karina gripped the glass of red wine, malicious intent dancing in her eyes. Even a drop of it would permanently stain any fabric. With a quick flick of her wrist, its contents arced out, poised to hit the center of Ryia’s dress.
Ryia squeezed her eyes shut, mentally bracing for the embarrassment that was about to hit her as soon as the wine did. The lady's gasp ragout, yet Ryia couldn’t feel the cool splash of the wine against her. Cautiously, she opened her eyes.
Wine dripped from Lawrence’s jacket, pooling in front of his feet. Realization slowly hit the woman as she took in the gold thread embroidering the Alterio crest on his navy-blue clothes.
“I’m…” the lady breathed, staggering back, “I’m very sorry.” Lawrence turned to face Ryia, not acknowledging the profuse apologies that continued to pour out from the girl.
“Would you like to dance with me?” he asked, extending his hand to her. Ryia nodded and held his hand, keeping her gaze focused on the floor.
Lawrence gently held her chin, lifting her face to meet his. An intimate gesture, enough to make Ryia blush as her honey eyes met his. “Ignore them,” Lawrence said, steel blue eyes looking down at her warmly, “they speak only out of pure jealousy. Just focus on the music and try to relax. It’ll be no fun for you otherwise.”
“Thank you… and I’m sorry about your clothes,” she mumbled, breaking eye contact in an attempt to cool her warming face.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. It was my choice to step in,” he responded, “plus they could use a pop of color anyways. Too much blue for my liking.”
She huffed out a small laugh and tightened her hold on his hand. They stepped onto the dance floor, and within seconds they were flowing through the crowds to the smooth melody of the orchestra, and with every note, Ryia’s nerves continued to loosen.
❧
From across the room, Oliver and I watched and Ryia and Lawrence continued dancing together. A sense of achievement hit as Lawrence tilted his head back in laughter, most definitely caused by something Ryia had based on her smile.
“That worked surprisingly well,” Oliver said, putting up a hand that I high-fived, “you really were spot on with your predictions.”
“What can I say, I know my way around high society.” I crossed my arms and held my head high, unnecessarily proud of my predictions that weren’t even predictions to begin with, “though I must admit, Lawrence was a lot smoother than I expected.”
“Well, O’ Great Predictor, what is the next step in your plan?” he jested.
“I’m going to ignore that,” I said, fingers strumming across my folded arm. “I figured it would be relatively easy to convince Ryia to invite you and Lawrence over as a thank you. There’s this cute pond on the edge of the property that would be a perfect spot for a picnic.”
“You think she’d go for it?” He asked.
“I don’t think I’d have to argue much,” I forced a laugh as I watched Lawrence and Ryia together. My longing stare followed each step they made, perfectly in sync with each other. I desperately wanted to try it, though I knew that the second I stepped onto the dance floor, I’d undoubtedly embarrass myself in front of hundreds of nobles. In best case scenario, my dance partner would end up with a few sore toes. Worst case scenario, I’d end up face down on those slick, white tiles.
Oliver looked over at me, studying my faint frown. “Come on, follow me,” he said, holding his hand out.
“Where are you going?” I asked, trying to fight the smile creeping over my face as I grabbed it. I refused to let him fluster me, even as he looked over his should and winked. “Just trust me.”
We stopped at one of the farthest doors, and he opened it to reveal a small, secluded balcony. I walked over and rested my arms on the stone railing, staring out at the garden sprawled endlessly before me, filled with pastel flowers dancing in the breeze and fountains that shimmered silver as they reflected the crescent moon's light. It was a nice reprieve from the stuffy banquet hall we’d been in for what must have been hours.
“Dance with me,” he said, extending his hand with an overdramatic bow. I took a step towards him, furrowing my brows.
“What do you mean?”
“You can still hear the music out here,” his eyebrows raised with a playful grin that I had a feeling I’d be seeing far too often from now on, “so dance with me.”
One hand closed around mine, and his other fell to the small of my back. I yelped as he tugged me close. With little space between us, I could feel the deep laugh that came from catching me off guard.
“Ready?”
I nodded. He stepped forward in tune with the music, and I followed his lead. I breathed in the clean summer air and was met with the faint, floral scent of roses in full bloom. “So, can I ask what we are doing out here, away from the dance floor?” I asked, more out of curiosity than complaint. Considering I had little to no clue what I was doing and had banked on following his steps, being far away from others would spare me a bit of shame.
“I’m not the best dancer,” he said, “I figured this would be a lot less embarrassing.”
“That’s one thing we have in common.”
A cool night breeze floated by, a light kiss against my warming skin as I tried my best not to step on his feet. It was becoming increasingly clear that neither of us was particularly skilled at this. We were clumsy, our steps nowhere near elegant or graceful, but it was fun.
“I think we have a lot more in common than you realize.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, tilting my head.
His lips pressed to a thin line as he directed his gaze to the garden. He looked contemplative, like he was trying to pick his next words wisely. After a few seconds of silence, he released his grip on my waist and raised his hand to spin me around. I obliged, my feet turning. As I spun, the fabric of my gown twirled around me, layers of silver and blue lifting off the ground and flowing like the glowing water of a moon-kissed river. I slowed myself, trying my best to remain graceful I centered myself in front of him.
“Well,” he said, fingers splaying on my waist as he caught me and pulled me close again. With only a few inches between us, he looked down at me and asked, “have you ever read the book The Golden Eye Prince?”
I staggered back, almost falling over if it weren’t for his stabilizing hold. The book’s title had rolled off his tongue so casually, so coolly. There was no hesitation in his voice or steps as he stared me down with intent.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he smirked, “I figured as much.” I wanted to say something that would wipe the smugness right from his face, but the only thing that I could muster was a barely audible mumble.
“You… how?” I gawked, blinking in disbelief. How did he know the book, let alone know I’d read it? He was messing with me, playing around. He had to be, he just had to be. Because if he wasn’t, that meant that this wasn’t a dream, that this world was somehow real.
“It’s fine. I’ve read it too.” His gaze softened, amused by the stupor he’d left me in, “as I said, we have a lot more in common than you realize.” He’d read it too. He’d read it too.
“Does that mean you-”
“There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you.” Lawrence’s voice cut me off at the worst possible moment. Oliver and I stopped, jolting apart at his arrival. He and Ryia stood in the doorway. From across the balcony, Ryia gave me a sly smile that asked I thought it wasn’t anything like that?
It isn’t, I scowled back at her, and I could ask you the same thing.
“What are you doing out here?” Lawrence asked, walking over to us. There wasn’t a hint of the usual annoyance in his voice as he talked to Oliver. At least Lawrence and Ryia had seemingly enjoyed their time together.
With a smile that didn’t go past my lips, I silently cursed out Lawrence and his atrocious timing. The interruption was almost comical, and I may have laughed if it weren’t for the tightness growing in my chest. It wasn’t fear that clawed its way through me, though. It was relief and suspense and excitement all jumbled together into one crushing feeling.
After a few seconds of aimless chatter, Lawrence told us that the event was almost over and that we needed to head inside. As he left, Oliver leaned close to my ear, his voice a deep whisper, “yes, it does mean that.” Then he casually strolled off after the other two, hands in his pockets, acting as if the world hadn’t completely shifted in a matter of minutes. I took a few seconds of staring blankly at the open door before I followed after them.