Page 7

Chapter 7

Olivia

A s Julius turned his back on her, Olivia caught a glimpse of a charming smile on his face, aimed toward the crowd and his approaching parents. The bravest part of her wanted to step forward and meet them at this side, but her courage failed her, and she remained tucked away, mostly out of sight.

“Father.” Julius gave the king a quick half bow. “You look beautiful tonight, Mother.”

The warmth and sincerity in his voice almost made Olivia soften, but she steeled her spine. His words were probably a show for the crowd, just like his smile. The people around them were standing back at a respectful distance but were still close enough to overhear words spoken at a normal conversational volume.

“We’ve been sequestered down the far end of the ballroom,” King Robert said, “discussing an urgent issue with Lord Strathmore. But we heard the excitement at her arrival.” The king nodded at the empty glass in Julius’s hand. “I presume everything has gone smoothly?”

“Of course it has,” Queen Elsinore said in satisfied tones. “I arranged it all myself.”

“Not as smoothly as I would have liked,” Julius said through his teeth, making both his parents frown.

“Come, Julius,” his mother said in a whisper. “I made sure to choose a girl who is both beautiful and lively. I’m sure you can have no cause for complaint.”

Julius cleared his throat, the back of his neck going red. “Her beauty is not the issue.” He kept his voice lowered.

King Robert sighed, his voice equally quiet. “I thought you understood your duty, son, and were ready to play your part. As I did mine when I was your age.”

“And look how happily it turned out for us.” The queen put her hand on her husband’s arm and beamed up at him.

A growing sense of foreboding crept over Olivia. She still didn’t understand what they were saying, but it was increasingly clear that she wasn’t supposed to be privy to this conversation. She wasn’t supposed to be a part of whatever was happening at all.

She glanced to either side, considering the chances of slipping out of the alcove without being noticed by either of the monarchs. They didn’t seem good.

A note of indulgent amusement came into the queen’s voice as she stepped past her son. “But I’m surprised you’re staying so quiet,—”

She broke off abruptly, staring at Olivia.

Olivia stared back before coming to her senses and dropping into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty,” she murmured, relieved her voice came out steady.

“But who are you?” the queen gasped, clearly struggling to keep her voice low enough not to be overheard by the crowd.

“I’m Olivia,” Olivia stammered for the second time that evening as the king also pressed forward to get a proper look at her.

“Julius, what you have done?” the queen wailed in an under voice while the king turned on his son with a threatening growl, his words all the more menacing for being quietly spoken.

“What is this?”

“What do you mean—?” the prince asked indignantly from behind his parents before cutting himself off and casting a lightning quick glance over his shoulder.

“Olivia is overheated,” he said in a louder voice, although Olivia could see the strain in his face. “Why don’t we step outside for some fresh air and proper introductions?”

A silent hand gesture brought two guards forward from further down the wall. Before Olivia knew what was happening, the men had the doors to her left open and were bowing the party of four outside.

Prince Julius gave the taller of the two a significant look and received a reassuring nod in return. The man closed the doors firmly behind them and took up post inside the ballroom with his back to the glass. His mien must have been stern enough to keep crowds at bay because the faces Olivia had been expecting to appear at the glass failed to materialize.

She turned slowly to face her three companions, gulping as she realized she was alone on the long stone terrace with the king, the queen, and their only son. The king and queen were faced off against Julius, clearly furious about something, and for the moment, none of them were looking at her. But being ignored only served to make clear who was the true outsider among them.

Where had everything gone so terribly wrong? One minute she was on her way to fulfill her dream with her friend at her side, and the next she was alone with the entire royal family.

The king and Prince Julius were still talking over the top of one another, but the queen turned to look at Olivia, regarding her as if she had destroyed all their carefully laid plans.

Olivia dropped into another curtsy for good measure. “I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding.”

“Oh Julius, how could you?” wailed the queen, cutting through her husband and son’s stream of words. She seized the prince’s arm. “I don’t care how beautiful she is! How could you?”

Olivia flushed, unsure if she was being complimented or insulted.

“What do her looks have to do with anything?” The prince carefully kept his eyes away from Olivia. “And why are you shaking me? I don’t understand why you’re both so upset. You’re the one who chose her!”

Cold washed over Olivia from her crown to her feet. What was he talking about? She was certain the queen hadn’t even known of her existence until a minute ago. She certainly hadn’t chosen Olivia for anything.

“Chose her?” the queen gasped. “I did no such thing!” She turned to Olivia, her eyes narrowing. “Who are you, child? And where is Lady Marigold?”

“M…Marigold?” Olivia stumbled over her friend’s name, the ice down her spine turning to heat that flooded her whole body and set her trembling. She was glad her long skirts hid how close her legs were to collapsing. “I don’t know. Her dress?—”

But the queen was already walking toward the glass doors and the guard beyond, a martial light in her eyes. “Someone has made a grave error,” she said. “And I want to know where Lady Marigold is.”

She pulled the door open and spoke to the guard beyond. Olivia didn’t hear every word, but she did catch “fetch” and “footman.” She swallowed. She had traveled to the ball in Lord Emerson’s carriage, but she hadn’t made any false claims when she arrived at the palace, so if they had mistaken her for her friend, that was hardly her fault.

But how could such a mix-up happen? The royal family knew Marigold. It didn’t make any sense.

When Queen Elsinore finished speaking, the guard shut the door again, and the queen returned to them, her eyes on Olivia. But before she could speak, her son interrupted.

“Lady Marigold? You chose Marigold ? What were you thinking, Mother? She’s erratic, temperamental, unpredictable, and has no self-restraint. She would make a terrible queen!”

Olivia could barely make sense of his words, but loyalty toward her friend sent another spear of anger through her, once again helping to keep less welcome emotions at bay. Defensive words hovered on her tongue, but she retained enough sense not to speak them.

“Peace, Julius,” King Robert said, echoing her thoughts. “This is hardly the time.”

He gave his son a stern look, his eyes flicking to Olivia and away, and the prince subsided, muttering to himself, “I’m going to kill Cade. Not going to be disappointed?! ” He shook his head.

Olivia’s mind finally caught up with everything the prince had said, circling around and around the word queen. Was Crown Prince Julius betrothed to her friend? Was Marigold the future queen? Olivia’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening. How could her friend not have mentioned such a momentous thing? Was it possible she didn’t know about the planned match herself?

But a betrothal only made the mystery of the apparent mix-up all the more strange. Clearly Julius knew Marigold, so he couldn’t possibly have mistaken Olivia for her friend. He certainly hadn’t talked to her as if she was Marigold.

Olivia waited for the queen to speak up in Marigold’s defense—given she had apparently been the one behind the betrothal plans. But Queen Elsinore didn’t seem able to meet her son’s eyes, her gaze sliding sideways and her lips pursing slightly.

Olivia’s heart sank, any potential excitement for her friend withered before it could grow. Was it worth becoming a princess if it meant her friend would have to join a family where she was so poorly valued? Clearly Marigold had been chosen for her father’s wealth, influence, and power rather than her personal qualities.

Marigold might been dramatic, but she had a good heart. She deserved better.

“That isn’t what’s important right now,” the queen said, turning back toward Olivia. She reached for her dress, and for a terrible moment, Olivia thought the queen meant to rip her billowing skirts.

But she merely tweaked them aside to reveal Olivia’s feet, shod in the required glass slippers. Olivia looked back up at the queen, relieved, but the queen had turned pale, a fresh look of horror on her face.

Olivia felt her own face pale in response.

“What is the meaning of this?” Queen Elsinore demanded.

Each turn of the conversation only made matters more confusing, and Olivia had no explanation to give. But before the queen could demand an answer a second time, the doors to the ballroom opened, and the footman who had welcomed her to the palace walked outside. The doors closed behind him, and Olivia felt a pang of fellow feeling for the uneasy look on his face as he crossed the terrace and bowed low before the king and queen.

“How may I be of assistance, Your Majesties?” he asked.

“Your instructions were clear!” the queen said in a low voice, her eyes narrowed. “What is the meaning of this?”

She pointed dramatically at Olivia, and the footman’s eyes followed her gesture. The two of them gazed at each other with looks of equal bewilderment. Clearly he had no more idea of what was going on than she did.

“I checked as instructed, Your Majesty,” the man said carefully. “She was wearing the glass slippers.”

“Exactly!” the queen said, as if they were the ones talking nonsense instead of her. “Why was that girl permitted to enter the ball wearing glass slippers?”

Olivia stared at her. What was she talking about? Wearing glass slippers was the one requirement of attending the Midsummer Ball. Everyone was wearing them…Weren’t they?

Now that she considered it, she hadn’t actually seen anyone else’s slippers, except for Marigold’s. But then she hadn’t been looking at anyone’s feet, and the long dresses of the ladies covered up their footwear most of the time.

“My instructions were to watch for the daughter of Lord Emerson,” the footman said. “I saw the crest on his coach clearly, and only one girl got out. Her.”

All four of them wheeled to stare at her. Olivia bit her lip.

“It’s true that I came in Lord Emerson’s carriage,” she said. “And that I got out alone.”

“Treachery!” the queen cried, clasping at her heart.

“You may leave,” the king said quickly to the footman, and the man bowed and hurried away, clearly relieved to escape whatever was unfolding on the terrace. Olivia wished she could flee as well.

“We mustn’t jump to conclusions,” King Robert said heavily with a warning look at his wife. “Lord Emerson is a long-standing ally of the throne and a personal friend. I do not believe that he would?—”

“Oh no,” Olivia said quickly, all while her heart sank lower and lower. “It isn’t Lord Emerson’s fault. He never knew I was inside the carriage at all. And I know I got out alone, but I wasn’t in there alone. Lady Marigold was with me. But she tore her dress as she moved to alight and had to fix it. There was another carriage behind us, so she circled around and came into the ball after me.”

“But why are you wearing glass slippers?” the queen demanded.

“Am I not supposed to wear them?” Olivia asked, trying to keep her voice steady. “I grew up in the country, and I’ve always been told that glass slippers are required at the Midsummer Ball.”

“Well, yes, of course, usually they are,” the queen said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But not this year.”

Olivia’s brows drew together. That made no sense. Every girl who had ever gone to the ball from Henton had taken a pair of slippers with her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, a small tremble slipping into her voice. “I think there’s been some sort of mistake. I can assure you, I never meant to?—”

“You entered alone, late, and wearing the slippers?” the king asked in a sharp voice, not waiting for the answer before turning to his son. “And you greeted her on her entrance and asked her to dance? It was at least two dances, if I recall. And then the two of you went for refreshments together?”

Prince Julius, who looked pale, nodded. “I got a glimpse of the slippers as she stepped into the ballroom. And the fanfare sounded! You must have heard it. I thought she was the one.”

“But where is Lady Marigold?” the king asked. “We must consult with her at once. Find her and bring her here to explain this situation.”

The prince hesitated before nodding and returning to the ballroom. Olivia watched him go with trepidation. Earlier she had longed for him to walk away and leave her alone, but now she felt like running after him and clinging to his side.

He had barely shut the doors behind him when the queen spoke again, her voice urgent. “If the fanfare sounded, the number of dances is the least of our worries! The most important point is who are you, girl?”

“I’m Olivia,” she repeated, although she was sure that wasn’t what they meant. “I’m a friend of Lady Marigold. I live next door to her in Manor Row.”

“A noble girl?” The queen’s head tipped to the side, and her eyes narrowed. “I don’t recognize you.”

“No, not a noble,” Olivia said quickly. The last thing she needed was to create further misunderstandings. “I live with my aunt and uncle. My uncle runs a successful business and recently purchased a manor on the Row.”

“Your aunt and uncle…” The queen nodded. “They must be very wealthy. I suppose you’re a treasured and pampered niece. Perhaps they took you in because they have no children of their own?” She sounded hopeful.

“Ahh…” Olivia didn’t like to say anything that might sound like a criticism of her relatives.

“If he’s recently bought a house on Manor Row, your uncle must be Walter,” the king said. “Most of those houses have been in the same family for generations.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Olivia said softly.

King Robert exchanged a look with his wife. “Doesn’t Walter have two daughters? We met them in the receiving line tonight. Their first ball. They must be about the same age as this girl.”

The queen gave a horrified cry and stumbled back a step, her hand once more flying to her heart. “Two daughters?! No! It can’t be!” She turned back to Olivia. “How do they treat you, girl? Are you like another daughter to them?”

Remembering her resolution to ensure no further misunderstandings, Olivia reluctantly forced herself to speak.

“They don’t mistreat me. I didn’t come as a guest, after all, but to work. So I’m more…more like a servant than a daughter.” She said the final words in a rush, but she lifted her chin as she spoke. She might not like her work, but there wasn’t anything shameful about it.

The queen opened her mouth as if to cry out again, but no sound emerged. She looked so pale that her husband put a hand beneath one of her elbows.

She looked up at him with a blank face, as if Olivia’s final words had overwhelmed her completely. “A servant, Robert,” she whispered. “The girl is a servant to relatives with two daughters of their own. We are all doomed.”

The king rubbed at his temple with his free hand. “It certainly seems our hands are tied,” he said after a heavy pause. “We will consult the histories, of course, but for now, we cannot flout the Legacy, or we may risk more than we can afford to lose.”

“The…Legacy?” Olivia asked cautiously, her mind connecting dots she didn’t want to connect. “What does the Legacy have to do with any of this?”

“Tonight was the night of our son’s betrothal,” the queen said in despairing tones. “But you’re the one wearing the slippers, so the Legacy fanfare sounded for you. It means you are his betrothed.”

“What?!” Olivia stumbled backward toward the doors into the ballroom. “I’m not betrothed to a prince. Did you hear me say I’m just a servant? You’re looking for Marigold. She was just behind me. I’ll…I’ll find her for you. Just wait a moment, and I’ll help the prince find her. She’ll explain everything.”

Not waiting for the king and queen’s reaction to her tumble of words, she thrust open the doors and fled into the crowd.