Page 4 of Crowned In Sin

Someone touches my arm, and I let out a gasp.

I whirl around, expecting to find another dance partner vetted by my father or maybe, maybe, the man who stood in shadow on the balcony, or maybe⁠—

The person standing far too close to me is neither.

Chapter 2

Cora

“Princess Cora,” my friend and a royal in her own right, Princess Isabel says, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. She’s been dancing, too. Isabel takes a tiny step back and curtsies to me, and I curtsy back. We’re both princesses and of the same rank, so it’s a shallow bob more than anything. With the warmth of the smile on my face, I quickly embrace her in a tight hug.

Isabel hugs me back. A few ladies passing by comment on what good friends we must be, and they’re right. We are good friends, and I treasure Isabel. She’s one of the only people in this ballroom who knows what it’s like to wonder who you’ll be married off to. We would lie awake at night wondering about our marriages and their arrangements. Which alliance would be formed and for which benefit to the kingdom. Very few in our shoes are able to give their opinion on a match, though that opinion might not be honored if there are more pressing problems to be solved.

For the kingdom, it’s a spectacle and celebration. For us…well I’ve had plenty of nightmares about being unloved for the remainder of my life because I’m shackled to the crown. Growing up, we used to have a plan…an escape, just in case. Those stories come back to me now in the evenings.

“Cora,” she says brightly and lets go of me, though she takes my hands in hers. The hum of chatter surrounds us but I can still hear her. Isabel has long, dark hair that falls down her back in waves when she lets it loose, though tonight she has it all up in a gorgeous, pinned style that’s popular with married women. A gold tiara glitters in her hair. “Did I scare you?”

“No! I was lost in thought,” I answer and offer her a smile.

“In the middle of a dance?” Isabel’s dark eyes sparkle with laughter. “Were you lost in thought about a duke? Did he capture your imagination with his plans to build the best warships the world has ever seen?”

“The dance was over!” I laugh too, but more out of relief. I thought for a moment that the man on the balcony standing in those shadows saw the thoughts on my face and came down to the ballroom to⁠—

“You’re doing it again!” Isabel scolds. “Are you so interested in warships?”

“He didn’t say anything about warships,” I tell her, and shake my head to clear away the thoughts I can’t have while I’m at my own birthday ball. “Let’s find a drink. Where is your husband?”

Isabel points. I can’t see much through the crowd, but I know she’s pointing in the direction of a quieter sitting area off the ballroom where the men like to gather and talk when they’re not dancing.

“Didn’t you see us?” Isabel asks. “We must’ve passed each other ten times at least during the last few dances.”

“I—”

“You were thinking of something naughty,” she teases, and hooks her arm through mine. “Tell me what it is. Do you have a suitor?”

A furious blush heats my cheeks. I wish I could tell her, but my throat gets tight. It certainly wouldn’t be right to do so in this room.

“No,” I say quickly. “I’m too warm. Let’s find a drink and…and get some air.”

Princess Isabel takes charge, nodding briskly at everyone who compliments us. She has a way of moving through the crowd of guests that makes it seem as if she is on an urgent errand without ever walking too quickly—or God forbid, running—that people would feel obligated to follow and help us. I know she’s wearing her high-heeled sage-dyed leather boots under her gorgeous dark sage gown just by the sound of the click on the cobblestone. Her brooch adds a decadence to the otherwise simple linen gown. And yet, with its gold embroidered edges, and the manner in which her hair has been kept back with a delicate pin, she reeks of luxury and wealth.

It doesn’t take her long to be offered a tray of champagne. Isabel puts a chilled glass in my hand, thanks the cupbearer, and whisks me away again.

With her, I feel peace that I haven’t felt in quite some time. Peace, and now giddiness with a glass goblet detailed with silver. The base is heavy with the metal, but the feel of it in one hand and her hand in the other is exactly what I needed.

We move in the opposite direction from the room where the men tend to gather. The ballroom glitters around us. The lit candle chandeliers reflect in the large cathedral windows, without a single smudge to ruin the illusion that there are dozens of chandeliers extending into the evening. The wall hangings have been changed out to match the color of my gown and accented the silver of my tiara. The musicians play with their harps, fiddles, and lute on a raised stage, bows flashing in time with the music, and it all looks a bit like a painting.

I think of myself on the dance floor, frozen in paint, captured in a moment where I would appear to be dancing, but I wouldn’t. I would be completely still, unmoving, a smile permanently on my lips. A sadness settles deep in my chest. Will it be my last true bit of happiness etched in a canvas?

I’m relieved when Isabel pushes open a discreet door between two sets of tall windows and we are outside on the terrace.

I take a deep breath of the warm summer air. We cross the terrace and lean against the carved stone railing, as breathless as if we’d run.

Isabel laughs. Her voice echoes over the royal gardens. The green fields are large and sprawling, with hedges and fountains and many blooming beds of the most beautiful flowers to be found in all the kingdom. A couple moves down one of the paths farther ahead and disappears into the shadows.

It reminds me of the man on the balcony. The thud of my heart in my chest is nearly unbearable. With a sip of champagne, I swallow down the unwanted feelings.

“Well?” Isabel raises her glass. “To your nineteenth birthday.”