Yet my anger had to go somewhere. I snatched the apple from his hand. Curse him for holding it away from me, like he was afraid I was going to spit on it. I shoved the fruit between my teeth and crunched down.
The servants behind me gasped. The waiter merely stared.
My eyes watered from the acidity of the fruit as I thrust it back into his hands.
“Enjoy that,” I said, mouth full of apple, and marched off.
THE MOMENT I RETURNED to the sitting room, my humiliation curbed my anger. What in the heavens was I thinking? The waiter’s apple soured my stomach, a reminder of yet another bad decision I had made in the past few weeks. I decided not to recount the episode to Genevieve. She was already nervous about the ball.
It wasn’t long before Lady Hortensia ushered us out of the sitting room to the top of the stairs again. The ballroom was now alive with chattering guests. Somehow, the servants had shooed the pigeons away. The only sign of their presence was a dollop of pigeon droppings on an unlit candle.
“Miss Samantha Faas!” Mr. Packington announced.
Samantha descended the marble staircase as several other debutantes had before her. The ballroom burst into a smattering of applause.
The queue shuffled forward. A thousand faces turned toward us.
“Miss Genevieve Bonavich Flora!”
My stepsister descended, the voluminous skirts of her ball gown flaring around her like petals on a rose. She was a tiny figure when she reached the bottom. She curtsied low before the dais and joined the cluster of debutantes on the side of the ballroom.
“Miss Amarante Flora!”
My feet brought me forward at their own accord, seemingly more prepared than I was. The descent was longer than I anticipated. Queasy as I felt, I managed to reach the foot of the stairs and curtsy before the king and queen.
The fact that the rulers of Olderea were merely a few feet before me did not help my nerves. I stole a glance at them as I rose. King Maximus had a balding head and was swathed in golden finery. His bleary gaze and stony expression seemed like he was already bored with the festivities. In contrast, Queen Cordelia gave me the smallest of smiles. It made her eyes glimmer. I let go of a breath, returned her smile, and joined Genevieve on the side of the ballroom.
It felt like ages when they finished announcing everyone, including the illustrious courtiers and gold-ribboned young men. Silver bells jingled as the debutantes shifted about, restless from standing. When I thought they would finally let us go, a fanfare sounded from the top of the stairs.
“Announcing His Highness, Crown Prince Bennett Median of Olderea!”
Squeals and whispers erupted from around me. I peeked over the shoulders of my fellow debutantes to catch a glimpse of the crown prince. He was tall and stately in a deep maroon coat, his crown gleaming from atop his chestnut hair. He looked very much like the king, if the king weren’t paunchy and balding. With a curt bow before his parents, the crown prince mounted the dais and took his seat beside his father. His face was stoic as he stared ahead.
“Who put dirt in his tea?” I muttered to Genevieve. She giggled.
Another fanfare sounded. “His Highness Prince Ash Median of Olderea!”
A familiar figure came down the steps.
Except this time, there was a crown nestled in his dark hair.
6
As the ballroom erupted into applause, someone clamped my wrist.
“Is that who I think it is?” Samantha whispered, smelling like she took a bath in her grandmother’s perfume. I tugged my arm out of her clammy fingers.
The other debutantes seemed to have similar reactions. Genevieve looked perplexed. I could only feel horror and embarrassment creeping over me as I recalled what I had done mere minutes ago.
“Why in the blazing fires was the second prince of the kingdom disguised as a waiter?” Tori emerged from behind us in her magnificent sapphire blue gown. “Do you think he might be a pervert?”
Samantha shot her a glare. “His Highness is entitled to do whatever he wishes.”
“Really? I wonder why you had such a fit when His Highness spilled water on your gown, then,” Tori said, tilting her head.
Samantha bristled and glared but said no more.
When the cheers died down and Prince Ash took his seat next to the queen, the orchestra at the balcony began playing a light air. The guests gravitated toward the dance floor, and several debutantes were whisked away by the boldest of the gold-ribboned young men.
A hook-nosed matron I recognized as Lady Thornbush, one of Lydia’s friends, approached Genevieve.
“Enchanted to see you, my dear girl! You look as lovely as ever. Have I introduced you to my son, Edward?” Lady Thornbrush said fluttering a feathered fan beneath her nose. I wondered how she didn’t sneeze.
Beside her, a scrawny youth no more than sixteen executed an awkward bow. Genevieve curtsied. “Lovely to meet you,” she murmured.
At this, Edward blushed a deep red and stuttered a request for a dance. My stepsister threw me an apologetic look. I motioned for her to go.
Lady Thornbush gave a contented sigh as Genevieve and his son made for the dance floor. After a moment of staring, her ladyship walked off, completely ignoring my presence.
Tori gave a low whistle. “Well then. Off to the refreshments table, Amarante?”
“Gladly.”
The other side of the ballroom was filled with platters of sandwiches and cakes, far away from the dais and the dance floor. I was beyond relieved. The last thing I needed was attention on me. Tori grabbed a few cucumber sandwiches and I helped myself to berries and a puff pastry. We devoured our snacks against the wall, observing the chattering groups around us.
My eyes darted around the ballroom for Julianna, but she was nowhere to be found in the midst of opulent gowns and swirling couples. The undercover prince showed no signs of leaving his dais either, his head bowed in conversation
