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“Now, let’s put on this dress and get you to the ball, my princess,” she says, shooing the girl with long caramel locks toward an armoire.
I’m placed in a dress that I would typically not be caught dead in.
Not that it’s not gorgeous, but it’s not me.
The embellished sweetheart bodice gives way to a flowing gold tulle skirt.
“I look like a princess,” I mumble.
“You look like a queen, principessa,” she smiles at me in the floor-length mirror. “River will be here to escort you. You’ll bewitch every reaper in attendance.”
The reaper girls share a giggle, rushing from the room without another word to me.
I take a long look in the mirror and scowl. It seems so ridiculous that I would be playing dress-up instead of getting to know my mother more. I’m not here to meet the kingdom. I’m here to understand where I come from, and to enlist Camille’s help in ridding Hell of Nolda.
Meeting the subjects of Solis is learning where you come from, my inner voice chides, and I glare at myself through the mirror.
I’ll go through with the ball, but then I have to get back to business. The longer I’m here, the longer I’m away from Luke. I need to get back to him.
I’m pacing the floor for what feels like an hour when I finally give up and decide to go find my mother or River.
I’m wandering down hallways, not having a single clue where they lead to, when I come to the grand foyer. The large ballroom doors close behind a smartly dressed couple, and I rush toward it, wondering if Camille and River could already be at the party.
Hushed voices in a hidden alcove draw my attention. I would recognize the male’s voice anywhere...River.
“You look beautiful.” His deep, throaty timbre gives away his desire for whomever he’s with.
“And you, River, are handsome,” a woman says between giggles, sounding like a young girl. But it’s no young reaper. It’s Camille.
I don’t need to have had more than ten minutes with the woman to know without a doubt it’s her.
“We shouldn’t be here. Not like this,” she whispers.
“I’ve hardly had a moment alone with you,” River groans. “You’ve been surrounded by doctors and chancellors since my return. I need this one moment of peace and quiet with you.”
“This isn’t the time, River. We shouldn’t... not with—”
“I don’t give a fuck what we should and shouldn’t do, Camille. I want you,” River’s voice rises, and Camille shushes him.
I can only guess she quieted him with her mouth as neither one speaks for several seconds.
“I’m growing tired of this game,” River growls.
“And what game is that?” Her teasing lilt, flirtatious and inviting, tells me all I need to know. She isn’t really trying to deter him. If anything, she’s tempting him.
My word, what have I stumbled across?
I need to get the hell out of here. I might throw up on the spot if things heat up. This is my mother, after all. The last thing I want is a front-row seat to a very private moment. One that I’m sure would completely traumatize me. For the rest of my life.
“The one where you play coy and pretend that you don’t want me as much as I want you, Camille. Admit it. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me. I can smell your arousal.”
Good. God. Help me move away from this spot.
My feet are rooted in place like some sort of voyeur, and I hate myself for not walking away before now.
“We can’t, River.”
“Like hell. You want me. You want us,” he says, and then it happens.
