Page 5 of Crowned In Sin

“To being nineteen.” I clink my glass against hers, and we drink. The champagne is sweet and bubbly and sends more energy racing through me.

“I thought you’d fallen for one of your dance partners,” Isabel says when we have caught our breath. “You hardly looked away from them.”

“They weren’t mine. They were chosen by my father.”

“As suitors?”

I shake my head. “It was the same as last year. They were not present for my interest. They were…acceptable for my father, I suppose.”

A small frown crosses her face causing a wrinkle to settle between her brows.

“What?” I question.

Isabel takes a sip of champagne, buying herself a few moments to think. “I had only thought—since another year has passed—that your father would be more interested in finding you a prince.”

“He did mention it.”

“Did he?” she asks nearly comically. “My younger sister is nearly sixteen and my father has already begun taking court.” She pauses and studies my expression. I don’t know what to say to be honest. Perhaps he does not wish to give me away. Perhaps we want the same.

“When we danced together to open the ball. He said this would be the year he would make arrangements for me.”

Isabel cocks her head, seeming to read something in my expression. “And now you don’t want arrangements made?”

It’s my turn to sip my champagne and gather myself. Damn this goblet, I wish it held more. There’s a chance it was excitement over the ball, and being surrounded by so many people, and dancing back to back with—was it four men? five?—dancing for long enough to make my head spin. There’s a chance I caught a glimpse of that person on the balcony and let my imagination run wild. There’s a chance I let my thoughts get away with me.

But it’s quiet out here apart from the natural sounds of the evening. A couple of guards stand silently at the far ends, not close enough to hear what Isabel and I are saying. The champagne is crisp on my tongue. It’s not my favorite kind, and maybe that’s what makes it clear what I want.

“That’s not it,” I tell Isabel. “I wanted… I want to be married. I want the next part of my life to begin. I’ve wanted that since last year, only no one took notice.”

“Cora!” Isabel’s eyes widen in shock.

Quickly I explained, “No one approached my father. No one seemed to show any interest in me. For a while, I thought it was because there was something wrong with me—something no one was willing to tell me.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

“I know… I know that now. But I also know more. I want more. I crave to be truly desired.”

“You would have more, if you were married. You would have the new life you want. You would have more freedom⁠—”

A soft laugh echoes in the distance from the garden. No people are in sight, so the couple I saw when we came out must have hidden themselves away to flirt or kiss or even touch where there are no prying eyes.

I lower my voice to respond. “Maybe,” I allow. “But maybe I wouldn’t. If my father chose a man who turned out to be controlling, or who wanted me to be a queen who was seen and not heard, I wouldn’t be free.”

“Your father will choose carefully,” Isabel says. “You are his only daughter. But in order to choose, he must have choices.”

“And what am I to do about that?” I wave my free hand at the garden. “Do you see them, lining up to kiss my hand? No! He’s had all the time in the world to find options.”

“With the right suitor, I think you would be much happier, in many ways. Not least of all, you would not have to spend so much time worrying about it.”

“That’s true.” More champagne. I can’t have too much, because it’s not proper for a princess to be seen under the influence of drink. It’s warming me, along with the night air, and taking the sharper edges off my feelings. “I just don’t see it happening. We can’t cast a magic spell and have the perfect prince appear,” I murmur.

“Something must be done. The king doesn’t have all the time in the world,” Isabel muses. “He is getting older. It is best if you are married soon.”

“I know.” My mood sobers. I do not like to think of the day when he will pass. It was hard enough losing my mother, and she was gone too soon. “So it seems he’s put us both in a difficult spot. He can’t be seen to rush any marriage negotiations, and he can’t be seen to linger too long, which he already might’ve done. He can’t be seen to beg for offers⁠—”

“Oh, that’s hardly how it would seem!”

“So I say, why do I need a husband at all? I will be queen whether or not there is a man on my arm!”