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“If he favors her?” I gulped. Just thinking about the beautiful Fae women that I was supposed to walk proudly behind made my palms sweaty.
“Whomever Dace favors at the beginning of the night to be his bride, when they reach the bottom of the steps, he will offer his hand. If she agrees and takes his hand, he will escort her to the dance floor and the party will officially begin.”
“And if she doesn’t accept his hand?” I asked, almost hopefully. Under the heat of their attention, I pointed my gaze bashfully to the floor. What was I even asking? He would offer his hand to a gorgeous Fae and then he would dance the night away. And that was just how it was meant to be.
“No one would deny the prince's hand and the chance to be queen.” The third Nymph giggled.
Her laugh still echoed in my thoughts when I waited outside the ballroom. My hands were as sweaty as they had been all morning. Sparkling, beautiful gowns filled my vision before and behind me. Fae women, a few accompanied by fathers or brothers, waited in a long line to be introduced to the royal family.
Many of the women sent me unwelcoming glares as they twisted in curiosity, wondering why a Nymph was even standing in line with them. It didn’t feel very much like I was a wanted guest.
The call of an attendant, the one who had organized the line we stood in now, rang out from the platform before the marble staircase. Every name that was called was accompanied by a murmur. The noise of their gossip growing with each woman. I wondered if Dace was still standing there.I tried not to let my eyes wander. I tried not to appreciate the beauty of all the women in line with me. My hands clenched into fists to keep them from visibly shaking as I waited. My ankles felt weak with anxiety, making me a tad wobbly in the sparkly silver heels they had shoved my feet into. It made me appreciate the Nymph tradition of attending a party barefoot.
The line before me grew shorter. I twirled a curl with my fingers as I watched. Voices behind me grew loud and excited.
“LaBelle, oh don’t you look gorgeous!”
It was the name that made me twist in my gown to find the source.LaBelle.She was simply the most obvious match for Dace, everyone thought. Who was this girl? I had to know. Was she beautiful? Was she kind? Would she agree to the alliance with the Nymphs?
Her skin glimmered a deadly blue, like she had been drowned at some point in her life, and sea-green hair was piled on top of her head. Her dress was a lavish white gown. She was ready to walk down these stairs as a bride.
I glanced down at my blush silk dress the prince had picked out for me. It was so much more plain than LaBelle’s. And she was otherworldly beautiful. I could already imagine her and Dace’s babies toddling around with their perfect skin, perfect hair, and incredibly expensive wardrobe.
Forcing myself to keep the worry from my face, I plastered on a pathetic smile. It was the only smile I could manage. The attendant's voice grew louder. Every step I took maximized my nerves until it felt like any strong wind could blow my trembling body away.
Until there was no one left in line in front of me.
“Miss Ryker Avery, Leader of the Nymphs and guest from the Heathern Court.”
The rumble of voices spiked. An overwhelming commotion filled the room. Then completely died away to silence. I stepped forward onto the platform.
Large white columns held up the artwork that was considered the ceiling. Paintings of cherubs and gods alike, dancing amongst the moon and the stars. Glowing silver chandeliers with sparkling Fae firelight twinkled and cast their light down on the marble floor.
Fae were gathered in a half circle to watch as guests arrived. At the opposite end of the staircase were three thrones, two occupied by the king and queen whose faces had fallen to flat indifference. Between us, the dance floor remained empty.
My heart stuttered, not once, twice, or even three times, but enough that it felt like it might finally stop beating and kill me now, in front of this disapproving crowd.
What a way to go…
It must be LaBelle then. I prayed she would make a good wife for Dace, and a worthy alliance to my cause. Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of her. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth puckered. It was wrong of me, but I gave her my best ‘eat shit’ grin and began my descent.
Dace, dressed in a blue suit, embroidered with white flowers, with a pressed white button-up, and a blush silk pocket square, waited. A sly smile rounded the apples of his cheeks. He lifted his chin, beckoning for me to continue down the stairs.
Yes, that’s what I was supposed to be doing. I needed to walk down the stairs, and for the love of the Mother, I needed to not fall while doing so. With one hand, I reached for the railing, the stone chilled, as if I was the only one who had bothered to use it. Maybe it was bad etiquette. Maybe it would keep me from bouncing my face off the steps on accident.
Swallowing my nerves, I took a long, deep breath, and stepped down the stairs. Such a silence had fallen on the room that the only noise was the chords of the string quartet that played in a corner, the click of my heels, and the ferocious beating of my heart.
Part of me wished LaBelle had been before me. That I wouldn’t have to watch him pick her out of the lineup and take her to the floor. It would be easier if he wasn’t waiting for me now. If I didn’t have to look him in the eyes as I walked right past him and pretend to smile as he offered LaBelle his hand after me.
At the last step, I smoothed my silk dress over my thighs and turned to look at Dace, awaiting his direction, but it felt like more than just looking at him. I was really seeing him. His white eyelashes danced like crystals of ice as they brushed his sharp cheekbones. They framed the intensity of his lingering gaze. The line of his jaw tightened and chorded, his lips pressing together before they opened in a wild, healthy, grin. He looked the part of the prince. And I wanted him to bemyprince. My heart ached with a wish that I finally fully admitted to myself.
The point of his chin lifted. The nod that I had so much wished for and dreaded all at the same time. I lifted my foot to drop the final step and meld in with the crowd.
Then Dace’s hand appeared in front of me. I couldn’t hear the sharp breath that was stolen from my lungs over the exclamation of the crowd. Their constant need for validation of every thought and outrage rising once more.
I glanced up at the king and queen who hadn’t moved, hadn’t altered their uncaring expressions, and looked down at his waiting hand. It didn’t feel real. This was all some sort of messed up dream. Surely, I was about to wake up and be totally deflated.
I could turn him down, I thought. The girl's voice still rang in my head,‘No one would deny the prince's hand and the chance to be queen.’No one, not even me. Not when it was all I secretly wished for just a moment before anyway. If thiswasa dream it wouldn’t hurt to say yes.
