I couldn’t help but laugh at the way Evander’s nose turned up in disgust. I rarely thought about how much more sensitive the fae’s sense of smell was. The perfume, which was pleasant to me, must have been an assault to his nostrils.
“It seems you’re no longer in need of escorts,” Imogen snapped, bouncing into a quick curtsy before dragging Blaise away.
Imogen must really have been agitated about Blaise taking her perfume to willingly leave me alone with Evander.
My date just shook his head, like he was trying to clear his senses of the overwhelming perfume. When he looked down at me, he was smiling again.
“So, what’s the ruse for tonight?” I asked.
“Oh, since we played up how much we hated one another in the last trial, I figure we give the nobles something to cheer for tonight.”
His words sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. “And how exactly do we do that?”
“Act the part.”
“What part?”
“The part of two people, separated by class and mortality and magic and general upbringing, fighting against all odds for our passionate love.”
“Oh, that.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard for you,” he smirked.
I rolled my eyes. “And why is that?”
“Because you’re obviously in love with me. You won’t even have to act.” The words were encased in a taunting, playful grin. He was just flirting, I knew that. But I couldn’t help but think of the night he told me he didn’t love me. How, because of his inability to lie, I had known it to be true. Suddenly, the words didn’t feel like so much of a joke.
“Ahh, yes, I’m sure….” But I didn’t know where to go from there.
He chuckled, but didn’t respond for the rest of the walk to the ball.
When we arrived outside the ballroom doors—each crafted from three-inch-thick sheets of crystal, because why not?—laughter and music echoed from inside. A pair of guards bowed to the prince when we approached.
“I thought the ball was to begin at half past seven,” I said, concerned. Evander had picked me up no later than seven, so we should have been early, not late.
“The ball began for them at half-past six. For us, it begins at half past seven,” he said.
“Is that customary?” My blood simmered with the anxiety of arriving to the ball late with Evander. It was bad enough to be escorted by him, to have everyone’s attention on us at all times. But the prince would turn heads if he made a late appearance.
“Of course it’s customary. Royalty can’t be found sitting around waiting for their guests to show up like any regular dinner party. It’s assumed that we make an entrance.”
“No, thank you,” I said, gulping down the anxiety.
He raised a brow at me. “I don’t remember you being this nervous about the crowd during our first trial.”
“That was because I was tad distracted by my impending death,” I hissed.
Smiling, he leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry. Just hold on tight to me, and you’ll be fine.”
I cringed. Whether it was out of disgust at Evander’s arrogance and blatant flirting, or the pleasant tingling on my cheek where his hair had just grazed, I vowed never to admit to myself.
He grinned. “Ready?”
“No.”
The doors opened, and the noise of the partygoers swelled. The ballroom was enormous, and its ivory walls sloped into a dome over our heads. Fae nobility bedecked in an array of sparkling gowns and fine dress coats mingled in small clusters across the rooms, their chatter eager and lively. They all looked too lovely, too regal to be real—a duke and duchess whose matching tattoos snaked up their arms in a pattern of tangled thorns; a female dressed in garments the color of moonlight with hair and a diadem to match, a red jewel dangling from her wrist the only splash of color in her attire; a male who snatched a pastry from a nearby serving plate with a flick of his wrist and a gust of wind. Musicians played flutes and lyres—fae tunes that I had never heard. Songs that made my feet feel like dancing as soon as they hit my ears.
“Introducing Prince Evander and His Betrothed.”
We stepped forward, and the crowd halted their conversations, erupting into applause.
Evander leaned into me again and grumbled. “I’ve got to tell them to start using your name, El.”
El. It rang in my ears and warmed my heart, the sound of my name on his lips.
I shoved that thought, that feeling, deep down.
He doesn’t love me, I told myself. He told me himself that he doesn’t love me.
But then Evander dropped his hand down my forearm, firing a whir of warmth through my blood as he clasped his fingers around mine and sent me twirling before the crowd. The crowd gasped, and the applause swelled again.
By the time Evander caught me in his arms, I was already breathless. His lips twitched into a smile.
But then the herald spoke again. “And now, the moment you’ve been waiting for. His Majesty King Marken and Her Majesty Queen Evangeline.”
A louder but somehow more reserved applause echoed off the marble ceiling as the king and queen entered behind us, and I couldn’t help but wonder how genuine it was. Evander had told me that this crowd was full of noblemen and fae. If that were true, did the wealthy ruling class support the king’s reign, unlike the poorer and middle-class humans? Or was there malice and envy lacing the applause?
Evander placed his hand on my back and turned me to face the king and queen, who both approached us with a flowing grace that I would never have bothered aspiring to.
