Page 21

Chapter 21

Julius

A s Julius had known they would, his friends played their parts perfectly. Olivia’s cousins were soon part of a circle of laughing girls, and Olivia herself looked far more relaxed than she had when they were waiting outside the doors. He would have preferred a more informal event for Olivia’s first official appearance, but his mother had assured him it would cause great offense if any member of the court was excluded. Since the soiree had become the crown prince’s betrothal party, he had been forced to concede the point.

Unfortunately, that meant every member of court wanted a chance to congratulate the happy couple and introduce themselves to Olivia. At first, he feared the endless parade of new faces would be too taxing for her, but she remained at his side, smiling politely and remembering every name. His mother had drilled her well.

But as he watched her chuckle brightly at a joke made by one of the oldest members of court, he knew it was more than that. The tiny line of concentration between her brows told him how hard she was trying, but she seemed utterly natural in her manner.

When Julius had scratched the facade of charm provided for him by the Legacy, he had found awkwardness and ignorance beneath. But with Olivia, it was the opposite. In their early interactions, she had been ignorant of etiquette, direct to a fault, with no veil over her emotions—a rough, unchiseled version of herself. But her time at the palace had polished her natural shape, revealing beneath someone who was charming, personable, and utterly appealing. He predicted that half the court would be under her thrall by the end of summer.

When he caught her muttering a stream of adjectives under her breath—singular features that she seemed to be using to remember which face belonged to which name—she flashed him a conspiratorial smile, good-natured amusement at her own expense in her eyes. His heart turned over. If he wasn’t careful, he would be the one in thrall before the summer ended.

Eventually, the stream of people died down, and they were able to take a moment to breathe. Julius left her against the wall while he went to fetch them both drinks. If her throat was as dry as his, she would need one.

But when he returned, she was gone. He could see no sign of her inside, so he strode out onto the terrace and scanned its length. He spotted her at the far end, her head bent close to Cade’s as they examined an unusual flower nestled among the vines of the balcony railing.

Julius’s fists clenched around the drinks as he took in the image of the two of them. Olivia looked so relaxed and happy, smiling up at Cade. Had he ever seen her look that way beside him? He feared not. To her, he was a millstone, weighing her down with responsibilities and duty.

“They make a lovely couple,” his mother murmured quietly beside him.

His eyes jerked to her face, but she was looking at Cade and Olivia, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“I hadn’t noticed,” he said stiffly.

He tried to think of something to say to redirect her thoughts. He was already uncomfortable with the idea of his mother matchmaking Olivia with a member of the court, but it would be unbearable if she tried to pair Olivia and Cade. Cade was the brother the Legacy had denied to Julius—the only reason he hadn’t had the lonely life that should have been his as the only child of a king. He relied on Cade’s cheerful presence and loyalty.

And lately, he had been coming to rely on Olivia in a similar manner. Even with Cade’s company, Julius had always stood apart and alone—until the moment Olivia blazed her way into his life. She had demanded they work together, coming to find him each day, and he had started to look forward to those interactions as the brightest part of every day. And at the soiree, for the first time, he had completed his royal duties with a companion at his side—someone to share stolen smiles and hidden moments of humor. It was a gift he had never expected.

He didn’t think he could bear it if the two people he now relied on most for company and support turned to each other and cut him out.

But before he could find the right words for his mother, she had floated away again, the pleased smile still on her lips. Julius was dimly grateful for the drinks in his hands—without them, he might have punched the stone beside him.

Instead, he strode the length of the balcony and presented Olivia’s glass to her. She smiled up at him.

“Cade rescued me and brought me out here for some fresh air. Have you ever seen this flower before? Do you know what it’s called?”

But the smile faded from her face as she took in the glower on his. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he said in a soft, defeated voice. “You tell me. Is it?”

He turned his eyes on Cade, and Olivia frowned, looking between them. Julius hoped for reassurance from his best friend—for Cade to laugh at him and chase away the lowering fog. But for once, Cade didn’t act to lighten the moment. He stayed in his place at Olivia’s side, his expression challenging Julius.

Julius’s hand tightened into a fist, but he forced himself to relax it. Olivia was enjoying her first true moment of repose at an event that was supposedly in her honor, and he wasn’t going to ruin it with his foolish starts.

He rubbed his eyes. “My apologies,” he said curtly. “It’s been a long evening, and I’m tired.” The words were true, even if they were only the tip of the iceberg hiding beneath.

Olivia’s expression turned sympathetic, and she murmured support, asking if it was too soon for them to respectably retire from the event. Her assumption that they would either stay or go together soothed his nerves far more than his own efforts to lighten his mood.

Cade’s stance relaxed as well, although his knowing eyes remained pinned on Julius, and he didn’t back away from Olivia. But what could Julius have said anyway? His friend knew Julius’s betrothal to Olivia was temporary, an illusion for the sake of the Legacy, so there was no true betrayal. And Julius himself had asked Cade to help keep an eye on Olivia during the soiree.

He couldn’t even blame Olivia if she preferred Cade’s company to his own. She had been told to prepare for another match among the men of the court, and he could acknowledge that Cade was the best of them.

Pain lanced through Julius—an anticipation of loneliness that was hard to fight. He couldn’t shake it off, although he longed to let it go and enjoy the current moment. He didn’t know how many more court events he would be able to enjoy at Olivia’s side. Having experienced one in her company, he knew future events without her would be cold and draining by comparison. And if his mother succeeded at her scheming, he might have an endless number of such painful events stretching before him.