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“Let’s go.” I take Olympia’s hand and tug her toward the doorway. No time to lose. “Before I toss your skirt up in the middle of this hall.”
Bea
Before tonight, if you’d asked me to name the worst possible torture I might have said thumb screws. Or sleep deprivation. Or being stretched out on one of those medieval rack thingies. Let’s be honest, it’s not my area, or at least it wasn’t—until falling in love with my twin sister’s fiance.
Okay, so I’m being melodramatic. Maybe it’s not torture, but ithurts.It’s a real physical pain in my chest and stomach, and as Prince Alden escorts me around the ballroom, I struggle to catch each breath.
He introduces me to diplomats and nobles. Reporters and financiers.
And all the while, the smile fixed on my face feels more like a grimace.
But I do my best. The whole point of this charade is to save Prince Alden from an awful embarrassment, so I try to string whole sentences together and nod at all the right moments, and when he sweeps me onto the dance floor, I manage not to step on his feet.
“You’re doing so well.”
Oh, god. The last thing I want is his admiration. The more he approves of me now, the more it will hurt when I’m invisible again.
“You’re an excellent lead, Your Highness.”
He is, too. He’s a graceful, powerful dancer, steering me elegantly between the other couples. The chandelier whirl overhead, their spots of light blurring together, and his shoulder is solid under my palm. I cling on for dear life, trying not to think about how I’ll probably never touch him again after tonight. This is it for me.
“Alden.” The prince lowers his head, and his deep voice tickles my earlobe. “If you don’t learn to say my name, I’ll have to make you scream it.”
Gah.
How can I say his name when he doesn’t even know mine?
When it finally comes, Prince Alden’s announcement is a blow. I flinch at my sister’s name—my future bride, the beautiful Olympia—and sway on my feet. The lights are too bright, the applause too loud. My upper lip is clammy.
I need to get out of here.
Alden lets me go, trusting as ever, and then I’m elbowing my way through tailored suits and ballgowns, shallows breaths coming fast.
It’s over. I made it through the night.
But as I race across the grounds barefoot ten minutes later, it feels more like I’ve lost everything.
* * *
Olympia finds me by the boathouse just before dawn, the sky paling above the horizon. Stars still pulse overhead and moonlight shimmers on the lake, but there’s enough light for her to see my red nose and blotchy cheeks.
“Oh, Bea. I’m so sorry.”
My twin drops to my side on the edge of the jetty, crushing me into her arms, the pink silk of my dress wrinkling. Guess I’m making a habit of sulking out here by the lake.
In the shadows of the boathouse, a tall man with shoulder-length dark hair nods at me, arms folded over his chest. Tattoos wrap around his bare arms, and salt and pepper stubble darkens his chin. He’s dressed in faded jeans and a white t-shirt, and he’s easily twenty years older than us.
“Youdidn’t,” I breathe, staring over her shoulder. “You brought Gerond here?”
“Well, yeah.” Olympia releases me, sitting back with a shrug. Next to my ballgown, she’s in denim shorts and flip flops. “You said to be honest with the prince. And the truth is, Gerond and I come as a package deal.”
The look she gives the scuba instructor is hot enough to make me blush.
“You met him three days ago!”
“So?” Olympia blows a stray lock of hair out of her face. One of her personal tics. “It’s love, okay? When you know, you know.”
I open my mouth to argue… then shut it with a click.
