Page 9

Chapter 9

Julius

“J ulius!” His mother’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see her rushing down the terrace toward him, his father at her heels.

“There you are!” she exclaimed. “But where is Lady Marigold? And where is Olivia? She ran off before we could stop her, and we didn’t want to make a scene in the middle of the—” She stopped as she caught sight of Olivia. “Oh, there you are, child. But where is Lady Marigold? We’ve just spoken with her parents, and they claim to have no idea.”

“But Lord and Lady Emerson aren’t here,” Olivia said, sounding confused. “That’s why Marigold was coming on her…” She trailed off, presumably finally realizing the truth.

Marigold’s parents already being at the ball and Marigold traveling there alone was all part of the tradition surrounding that particular Midsummer Ball. He was sure they had regretted the necessity given their daughter’s tendency to outrageous behavior. But even they couldn’t have imagined…

Julius clenched his jaw and passed his mother the crumpled paper in his hands by way of explanation. She took it and read quickly, his father reading over her shoulder.

“What?” she exclaimed before she had even reached the end. “In love with someone else? Doesn’t want the betrothal? What is this nonsense?”

“Lord Emerson said nothing of this to me,” his father said in dark tones.

Julius winced, wishing he could give Marigold an earful. His parents had been trying to form a closer alliance between the throne and the Emerson family—and now her actions might drive a wedge between them instead.

“At least we know Lord and Lady Emerson had nothing to do with this outrageous behavior,” he said. “And given we’ve all known Marigold since she was a small girl, we really shouldn’t be so surprised.”

He gave his mother an exasperated look. The daughter of Lord Emerson or not, his mother should have known better than to choose Marigold of all women.

His mother, however, still seemed bewildered. “But I don’t understand it. How could anyone not want to marry you?”

Julius couldn’t help darting a glance at Olivia. Little did his mother realize she was in the presence of a second girl who found the idea of marrying him equally horrifying. And Olivia didn’t even have the excuse of already being in love with someone else.

Or did she? His gut churned anew. She had denied coming to the ball with a lover, but that didn’t mean her affections weren’t already engaged. Which was just what he needed to make the whole situation worse. There was going to be scandal enough without the court watching his bride pining for another man.

His hands clenched back into fists.

“Clearly Lady Marigold is the one at fault here,” he said, trying to get his thoughts back on track. “She sent a servant in her place and didn’t even have the decency to tell her replacement what was happening! You cannot be serious about going through with the betrothal under these circumstances—to Marigold or Olivia!”

“Given the girl’s circumstances, I’m afraid we have no other choice,” his father said heavily. “At least until we can work out another way out of the situation. For now, we will appease the Legacy, but I have hope we will find another solution before anything irrevocable happens.”

Hope. Julius wanted a stronger assurance than that. If they began the engagement and didn’t find a way out, they would only find themselves even more locked in.

“Olivia doesn’t want to be tied to me,” he blurted out, desperate. “In either betrothal or marriage by the sound of it.”

All three of them turned to look at her, and her eyes widened, her throat moving as she swallowed. He instantly regretted being so ungallant as to turn his parents’ attention her way. But she responded with a clear voice, despite her obvious discomfort.

“Yes,” she said. “The prince is right. I?—”

But his mother was already talking over the top of her, her motherly affection blinding her to reality.

“Nonsense,” she said. “Lady Marigold is the most eligible girl in Sovar and is well known for eccentricity besides. But when it comes to any ordinary girl, she would be delighted to have you. What girl doesn’t dream of attending the Midsummer Ball and dancing with a handsome prince?” She turned to Olivia. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

Julius expected a fiery denunciation, but instead Olivia turned delightfully pink, the color only emphasizing her golden beauty.

“Ah, well…” she stammered. “I suppose…”

“Mother!” Julius exclaimed, trying not to think too hard about the possibility that he had starred in Olivia’s dreams. If he ever had, she must have revised her opinion after their various disastrous encounters.

She was the girl he had hoped never to encounter again, and yet somehow he had found himself standing on the moonlit terrace, arraying himself at her side against his parents. How had everything gotten so twisted?

He reached for a new strategy, hoping it might have a better chance of reaching his mother. “Supposing a girl had dreamed of attending the ball and dancing with me, wouldn’t that just make it worse? It would be cruel to announce her as my bride and a future princess, only to snatch it all away again.” He carefully averted his eyes from Olivia. “Do you want to be responsible for that sort of heartbreak?”

An indignant snort from Olivia was thankfully too quiet to be heard by his parents. If she wanted his parents to abandon their plan as badly as he did, she should stay quiet and look as lovelorn as possible.

The queen looked crestfallen, compassion filling her eyes. “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” she said softly. “How could she help falling in love with you?”

She rushed up to Olivia and took both the girl’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry to ask it of you, child. But we must think of the good of the kingdom! You must resist my son’s charms—as impossible a task as that is—and I promise we shan’t abandon you at the end. There are many nice men at court, and we will arrange another marriage for you when this is over.” She looked across at Julius. “You can introduce her to all your friends, my dear. The court always seems to be overrun with young men, and she may well take a fancy to one of them.”

Julius’s mouth fell open. “You want me to become engaged to Olivia and then start trying to pair her off with my friends? Some friends those would be if they showed interest in her!”

“Well, not quite so far as that, of course,” his mother said, oblivious. “But if any of them should happen to take a liking to her—and her to them, of course—then it would be just the thing.”

“Just the thing for one of my friends to take a romantic liking to my future bride?” Julius asked, only growing more incensed.

“Naturally, nothing along those lines can be thought of until the betrothal is broken,” his father said in a dampening tone, throwing his wife a stern look. “But certainly we can reassure the girl that we will look after her when this is over.”

“Her name is Olivia,” Julius muttered, earning his own dampening look from his father.

“To be clear,” Olivia said, sounding a little dazed, “you’re asking me to enter into a public betrothal in order to appease the Legacy and the expectations of the kingdom? And you truly believe that is necessary or else Sovar will be harmed?”

“That is correct,” the king said solemnly. “Your kingdom needs you, Olivia of Henton. Surely you will not turn your back on it.”

Olivia looked shaken by his words, but she continued. “But it isn’t a real betrothal, right? I’m not actually going to become a princess?”

Julius turned on his father, using a hard tone he had never directed toward the king before. “Don’t say yes unless you can guarantee it.” He held his father’s eyes until the king gave a slow nod.

“My son is right. I cannot guarantee that our experts will find a way out of this situation. But for the sake of Sovar, we must proceed.”

“I…” Olivia looked from Julius to his parents. “I suppose there’s nothing for me to say, in that case. I will do my best—and hope your scholars find a solution quickly.”

His parents both nodded, but Julius could read the lingering surprise and unease in their eyes. Clearly when they’d considered all the problems of this unexpected situation, they hadn’t anticipated the possibility that Olivia might refuse to go along with their plans.

But given her earlier remonstrance—which was still ringing in his ears—they needn’t have worried. He had been wrong to assume she lacked the sense of responsibility he had been raised with. Olivia would do what was needed for the sake of Sovar, no matter how much she disliked him personally.

“What now?” he asked, wondering for the first time what hour it was. The last thing he wanted was to be forced into returning to the ball and playing the part of a besotted man for the rest of the night.

He had barely finished the question when the loud toll of a clock reached the terrace. At the Midsummer Ball, there was only one hour of the night that rang out loudly enough to be heard outside. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I think we can all be grateful for that,” the king murmured, hearing the same sound. “We’ve all had enough shocks tonight, and the last thing we need is any further mistakes. Everyone will be expecting Lady Olivia to leave now, and I see no need to even pass through the ballroom again. She can leave directly from here.”

He frowned. “But if I understand matters correctly, Lady Olivia will need a ride home since her original carriage has abandoned her.” He glanced toward the letter which his wife had allowed to fall to the ground.

Olivia followed his gaze and retrieved the piece of paper, folding it and securing it in a hidden pocket. No one protested. The letter had been addressed to her and was hers by right. Julius imagined she was going to have some angry words for her friend when they next met.

“I’ll call for a carriage to be brought round.” The queen moved toward one of the doors further down the terrace. “You can circle the outside of the palace and meet it by the front steps without needing to go inside at all. The official announcement of the betrothal always happens the day after the ball, so nothing more is needed for now.”

Olivia nodded her assent before looking at the king. “You called me Lady Olivia, but I’m not one of the nobility. I’m just an ordinary girl.”

Julius could hear the shock and overwhelm in her voice. She was clearly as unable to believe the events of the evening as he was.

“Consider it a courtesy title,” his father replied. “You are betrothed to the crown prince now, after all. And while you will only become a princess on your marriage—if it ever occurs—it doesn’t seem right to introduce you as merely Olivia.”

“I…I don’t know if I’m comfortable with that,” Olivia said hesitantly.

Julius wanted to sigh. Did she have to fight them on everything, no matter how small?

But his father showed more patience. “If you’re concerned about what will happen if the betrothal is successfully broken, we won’t ask you to give up the title in the future. My wife can be overenthusiastic at times, but we will certainly provide for your future one way or another.”

“Very well, then,” Olivia said in a small, dignified voice. “It’s all very strange, but I will manage the best I can.”

“And we will assist you, of course.”

A footman appeared around the palace, and Julius’s father threw him a look. In his role as Prince Charming, he still had one final duty before he was allowed to finish for the night.

Forcing a smile, Julius offered Olivia his arm. She looked from it to his flat expression, clearly wanting to refuse. But then she glanced at the king and placed her fingers lightly on Julius’s arm.

Something in the soft, almost trembling, touch made him soften. Neither of them wanted their situation, but they were stuck in it together. Earlier, in the ballroom, he had been the only one acting a role, but now they would be acting it together.

They rounded the building, leaving his father behind.

“They do believe I knew nothing of Marigold’s scheme, don’t they?” Olivia asked quietly, her brows tight with worry. “Can I trust their promises to me, or do they just need my compliance?”

Julius stiffened, the fledgling warmth freezing over. “My parents are people of integrity. They are not liars.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I meant no offense. I’m new to the capital and know little of you or your family.”

Julius closed his eyes briefly, drawing in a long breath. She was not only unfamiliar with court but unfamiliar with everything, it seemed.

They reached the carriage, and he handed her in. He went to close the door more forcefully than necessary, but a sudden memory made him pause. Pulling it back open, he held out his hand silently.

She stared at it as if he was holding out a dagger instead of offering an open palm.

“Your slipper?” he prodded, trying not to let the frustration and impatience sound in his voice.

“My slipper?”

She continued to stare at him blankly until her eyes suddenly widened, and she gave a start. Removing one of the glass shoes she wore, she placed it tentatively into his hand.

Julius sighed, a headache building behind his temples. “If you know so little, it might be best if you don’t speak at all. Try not to talk of tonight if you can possibly avoid it.”

He heard her outraged gasp as he stepped back and finally closed the door of the carriage, signaling to the coachman to move off. He watched the carriage depart with a stoic countenance, hoping the surrounding footmen couldn’t read any of the frustration in his eyes.

Once again he had apparently managed to offend her. But she would be home for a single night, and it was already late. Was it really too much to ask her to refrain from gossiping about the disaster until they could all work out the best story to make public?

His parents claimed a betrothal was the only safe way forward, but did any of them really know what they were getting into?