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I look at him like he’s crazy. Beg him with my eyes not to make me do this. I haven’t sung for an actual audience before. Just the students watching us practice.

Neva’s really going to hate me now. I don’t want my boyfriend’s best friend to have it out for me.

Dad nudges me.

What if the other night was a fluke? I’m going to humiliate myself in front of everyone.

The entire ballroom is silent as Bash and I make our way over to the band. Not his band, but the stiff royal band with harps, violins, and other fancy instruments. We take our places at the mics. Bash smiles at me and does that eye thing. He believes in me.

I hope I don’t let everyone down. It’s not like I’ve had any time to practice singing.

The music starts, and surprisingly, it’s one of Bash’s songs. The one that he wrote for me.

My heart skips a beat. I lean closer to him. “Are you behind this?”

His eyes twinkle. “It wasn’t my idea, but I did go along with it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your parents wanted it to be a surprise.” He nudges me. “Time for the vocals.”

Awesome.

He starts, his voice sounding like it always does—perfect. I’m supposed to join him, but my voice won’t cooperate. Everyone is staring at me. I look around, trying to find my voice. Make eye contact with Neva.

Crap.

She smiles and gestures for me to sing.

Well, at least she doesn’t hate me. I take a deep breath and manage to find my voice. The first word comes out completely off-key.

That’s what my parents get for throwing this at me like they are.

But the next words flow out naturally. My voice blends with Bash’s.

Everyone’s expressions light up. Neva jumps up and claps. Halen whistles. Earwyn gives me a smirk and fluffs out her hair. Then I turn to Bash and lose myself in the song and in his eyes.

Once the song ends, I collapse against him. Only then do I realize the crowd is going wild. Begging for more. My parents are beaming. Are those tears in their eyes? I have to be imagining that. People get louder with their requests for us to sing another song.

My dad nods, giving his approval for us to sing another one. We end up singing five more.

And they still want more.

Thankfully, Dad says he wants to dance with his daughter. He gushes over me the entire time, then he dances the next song with Mom, and Bash rejoins me. After a few more songs, people start to leave. The room is about half-empty when Mrs. Middlebrooks arrives.

Bash nods toward her. “What’s she doing here?”

“She’s part of the royal class.” Blood drains from my body as I remember my questions. My concerns about her and Dad. Mom’s certainty that he’s been seeing someone.

Middlebrooks makes her way across the ballroom. She appears to be heading straight for my dad.

My heart thunders. It’s all I can hear. I look at my parents. Mom’s wide eyes show the same emotions raging through me. Dad’s expression reveals nothing.

Please don’t do this. Thoughts about the king being allowed multiple wives bounces through my mind. Please don’t do this, Dad. Not here. Not tonight.

I turn back to Bash. “Where’s Mr. Middlebrooks?”

“Dead. She’s been widowed for years but has insisted everyone keep calling her missus anyway.”