“Ah, the scandal there would be if he’d skipped this event!” Clint chuckled to himself.
Why should I feel sorry for him, even if he was watching his father die a lingering death? By my count, he’d had nine years more with his father than I had with mine. And he would get to say good-bye.
I shook the thoughts away—I was Julianna tonight, not Wilhelmina—and let myself be pulled back into James’s company as he indulged Melanie and me with the names and ranks and current gossip of everyone at the table.
This, if nothing else, was an excellent time to study my enemy.
A glass clinked at the head of the table, and Lady Chey rose to her feet; a servant spirited her chair back, out of her way. She smoothed her elegant lavender gown, with finely cut diamonds arranged in an elaborately stylized wave that crested on the bodice, which accented all her best feminine qualities.
“Thank you all for joining me this evening.” At Chey’s greeting, the remaining murmurs faded and the quartet played a soft chord before lowering their instruments. “I hope we’ve all had opportunities to catch up with old friends and make some new ones.” She glanced at me, eyebrow lifted in falsely sweet acknowledgment.
It took all my self-restraint not to flip my little finger at her.
“Tonight, we’re here to celebrate the engagement of two people who I admire greatly, and who are some of my closest friends.” She made a welcoming gesture toward Crown Prince Tobiah and the young woman sitting next to him. “His Royal Highness Tobiah Pierce, and Lady Meredith Corcoran, Duchess of Lakeside.”
The prince smiled politely, though he managed to make it look gloomy. Lady Meredith was radiant as she gazed up at her fiancé.
Well. That was bound to be a loving marriage with no problems whatsoever.
Lady Chey continued with her speech, mostly recounting all the time she and Meredith spent together, and how privileged she was to host their engagement ball thanks to this close friendship. A few of the guests began shifting in their seats, and a woman—her mother, perhaps—glared pointedly, a clear signal for Chey to stop talking.
Finally, the first course was announced and served. After the blessing, everyone began picking at the crab puffs, and it was all I could do not to shovel the food into my mouth as quickly as possible.
Melanie moved just as stiffly as she speared a puff, and soon the conversation turned toward favorite dishes and desserts. James and his friends kept up a steady chatter, which allowed Melanie and me the space to observe them, as well as the rest of the guests.
A few people flashed us curious looks, but I didn’t acknowledge the accompanying whispers of gossip as the meal progressed into the second and third and fourth courses.
I had to stop myself from eating everything, or risk revealing my real life as an orphan, but I hated myself for wasting food. While I ate more than my fill in here, children in the Flags went hungry tonight. Knowing that, how could I enjoy the meal?
The music stopped a little while later; the players took their instruments and quit the room, which seemed to be a signal.
At the head of the table, Lady Chey stood again and tapped her glass. Everyone quieted. She and several others delivered speeches congratulating Tobiah and Meredith, wishing the best for the Indigo Kingdom, and hinting there should be no fewer than a dozen children after the wedding. Even the king managed to say something, though he remained seated for his part.
“The night is not over,” Lady Chey said. “If you’ll proceed into the Crystal Room, the orchestra should be finished preparing for dancing.”
Several people clapped and began rising. My companions all finished their glasses of wine before standing. James offered his arm. “Allow me to escort a beautiful lady?”
I reminded myself he was too young to have been part of the One-Night War.
“Thank you.” I placed my gloved hand on his forearm. Now that dinner was over and the men were tipsy, Melanie and I would separate and begin asking more probing questions.
“May I beg the first dance?” James guided me from the dining hall, after the others.
“I’d be honored. I should warn you, though: I’m a terrible dancer.”
“I don’t believe it. Surely, you’re too modest.”
There was no modesty about it. I’d learned a few dances as a child, and every Osprey had received instruction over the last several years, but we’d had little opportunity to practice. But I just smiled at James and allowed him to lead me onto the dance floor where several other couples were already arranged.
As its name implied, the Crystal Room glittered from floor to ceiling, though most of the crystals were actually just glass and mirrors. There was plenty of space for all of us, but the reflections made the room seem bigger. The orchestra had set up in a small balcony overhead, so when the music began, it soared above the crowd.
“If you’re as terrible a dancer as you claim”—James drew me into the line of flushed-faced nobles—“then please just follow my lead. I’m a fantastic dancer.”
“If that’s true, it seems I’m doomed to embarrass myself.” But in the first few measures of music, he proved himself correct. James held his frame tall, but relaxed and comfortable with the movements. The music carried us along as we spun through the room.
“So.” James held my gaze as we stepped close, then far. His eyes were brown, as warm as his smile, but sharp with wariness. Readiness. Though it was true he wasn’t old enough to have been part of the One-Night War, he’d seen other battles.
“Yes?” I’d have to be careful around this one.
“What do you want to know about Prince Tobiah?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “I didn’t ask about him.”
“Not aloud. But I saw you looking yesterday.”
“Oh.” He thought I was interested in Tobiah? A sour boy with a perfect life he couldn’t even see? Well, as long as the prince’s bodyguard thought I liked the prince it was better than knowing I’d been imagining punching that sullen prince in his sullen face. “I wasn’t well yesterday. I was exhausted and dizzy from the journey here, and His Highness just looked so familiar. It was rude to stare. Forgive me.”
“Ah.” James stepped closer, his palm slipping over my upper arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease you.”
I let my expression turn soft, forgiving. “I’d rather be treated like you’d treat any other young lady. I do not want to forever be the sad duchess from a fallen kingdom, too fragile to befriend or tease. That’s why Melanie and I came here tonight: to show that we won’t allow our tragedy to define the rest of our lives. The pain of what happened—it won’t last for eternity.”
A lie. I knew very well how pain could last, and fester, and shape a person in unnameable ways.
But James squeezed my arm. “Tobiah’s miniature was sent to many families a couple of years ago, including some in Liadia. Perhaps your family received one.”
“I wasn’t yet out, so probably not, but I must have had an older cousin or friend who received one.” I shivered. “Details like that are hazy now, like they’re filled with wraith.”
“It’s all right.” James’s voice was soft and comforting, and if I’d been the real Lady Julianna, I might have fallen for him right there.
“So.” I made my voice a little husky. “You were concerned that I might be interested in Prince Tobiah. Even though he’s engaged, apparently.”
Color rose up James’s throat and cheeks. “I wasn’t concerned, but I was thinking that the fastest way to get your mind off him and on to me would be to tell you something truly appalling about him.”
“By all means, tell me something truly appalling about him.”
James glanced across the room, and for a heartbeat his smile fell away, revealing a young man too used to checking on his prince to make sure nothing was wrong. “Well.” He gave an exaggerated sigh and spun me. My gown flared, a desert of silk at my feet. “I bear a great burden. As Tobiah’s bodyguard and best friend, I know all his worst faults.”
Best friend? That made me doubly glad I’d concealed my real feelings. “You do know how to keep a lady in suspense.”
He grinned. “Prepare to be scandalized. The prince is a terrible swordsman. He sleeps through breakfast almost every day. And once I saw him chew with his mouth open.”
“Just the once, though?”
“He was ten.”