Page 38

Luc

I t didn’t matter how many years I’d spent in the palace; the annual Harvest Ball never failed to impress. The ball was a time to celebrate Edoria, to remember that, despite the nation’s place firmly in the twenty-first century, we’d once been a country of workers who earned their living with nothing more than their bare hands.

The palace ballroom was decorated to the nines—red and orange and brown décor hanging from the railings and the chandeliers, long tables packed with harvest food offerings from local farmers, cooks, and bakers, and a jazz band, the king’s sole variation from tradition, played on stage.

The crowd in attendance was a who’s who of Edoria, nobility mingling with wealthy financial specialists and well-to-do small business owners. Members of other nation’s royal families were in attendance, as well. A quick glance over the crowd and I was able to spot one of the princesses of Denmark, a few French barons, and the second son of the Spanish king.

There were hundreds of people there altogether, and for the next week the nation of Edoria would be abuzz with gossip and rumors of what happened at the ball.

“Wonderful turnout as always, wouldn’t you say, Luc?” Alaric leaned into me as he spoke, a glass of wine in each of our hands.

“A spectacular night. You should be proud.”

He nodded. “The staff is what makes it all possible. They are to whom my gratitude goes.”

Matters between Alaric and me were still tense. The two of us had barely said a word to one another since our fight earlier in the week. Alaric, however, wasn’t the sort of man to let whatever differences we might’ve had cause a spectacle. Whatever remained to be resolved between us would wait for another night.

“Very magnanimous of you, Your Grace.”

He waved his hand through the air. “I’m not above giving credit where credit is due.”

The two of us made our way through the crowd, stopping and chatting with whoever wanted a bit of time with the king. As Alaric made the rounds, all I could think about was Ava.

I wasn’t alone in the sentiment.

“Tell me, Alaric,” spoke Johan Fitts, a local finance magnate. “Where is this daughter of yours?”

“This princess of yours,” added Maribelle Pitchford, the head of a local charity that Analise had helped develop when she was still living in Edoria. She smiled in a sly sort of manner. “If it’s been your intention to build suspense about her unveiling, consider the job done.”

Alaric chuckled as he sipped his wine. “You know that I’ve never been one for theatrics. My daughter Ava has been preparing for tonight, and the reason she’s been hidden from the public eye is because of tradition, no other reason.”

I’m sure her hair and nose piercing had more than a little to do with it.

I couldn’t help but smile as the thought crossed my mind. I hadn’t seen the finished dress, but if Kinley’s building excitement over the last few days was any indication, it was going to be legendary. I did feel a touch bad for Alaric, though. Seeing Ava come down the stairs in something much more Ava-like than that pink nightmare would be the surprise of a lifetime.

We made more of the rounds, every single person who spoke to Alaric wanting to learn whatever they could about Ava before the big reveal. I could feel the tension building in the air as the night went on, the crowd drinking their wine and dancing to the music, while casting side eyes at the grand staircase down which Ava would descend.

The buzzing anticipation in the ballroom was so intense that one could practically reach out and touch it. No one knew what to expect, and everyone was on pins and needles waiting to find out, including me.

Finally, the clock struck seven. The band stopped, silence filling the air as the lighting in the ballroom dimmed. The lights at the top of the stairs cast the area in a warm, orange glow, drawing the attention of everyone in the crowd toward the place from which Ava would be arriving.

Alaric made his way up the stairs with his usual royal poise. He, like me, was dressed in an elegant tuxedo, his with long tails, his patent leather shoes glistening underneath the soft lights.

Alaric took position at the center of the two sets of steps, on the balcony overlooking the ballroom. He stood for several long moments, his gaze moving over the crowd, the pause gathering everyone’s attention.

“My friends,” he said, his voice filling the space via the acoustics of the room. “You have no idea what a grand honor it is to have all of you here tonight. The Harvest Ball is one of Edoria’s most wonderful traditions, a time for friends and family to celebrate autumn and all of its blessings.”

I had to give it to Alaric, he knew how to command a crowd.

“And, as all of you are aware, this Harvest Ball is a little bit different from the others. Tonight, we have a guest of honor like none other.” Even from my vantage point among the crowd I could make out the warm smile on Alaric’s face. “My daughter, Ava Georgianne, the Princess of Edoria, is here tonight, eager to make her public debut.”

Despite the expectation of silence as the king spoke, those in the crowd couldn’t help but whisper amongst one another at the mention of Ava. Hell, I was getting quite excited myself.

“Now, there is still the matter of the naming ceremony before she becomes my official heir, and your future queen. However, I do not know if I can wait a single night longer before introducing her to the kingdom. Without further ado, my daughter, Princess Ava Georgianne Jenson!”

The king stepped down the stairs as the music began to play, a spotlight cast on the doors from which Ava would enter. Alaric made his way to my side, an eager smile on his face.

“This is something, is it not?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “In spite of everything that’s happened, this moment has made it all worth it. To see my daughter present herself before the entire nation… it is what I have been dreaming about for years.”

His eyes flashed, as if something else had occurred to him.

“And the dress! I can’t wait to see what Kinley came up with.”

Oh boy. Speaking of Kinley, I managed to spot her in the crowd. We met eyes, both of us sharing the same expression of understanding that we were likely two minutes away from a royal meltdown.

The doors finally opened, a hush falling over the crowd. A figure appeared in the darkness of the tall doors. Even from the distance and in the low light I could make out the figure-hugging shape of the dress.

“What is that?” Alaric sensed that something was off. “Is that the dress I asked for?”

Ava strode with confidence as she stepped toward the center of the stairs, a smile on her face, her hair as purple as ever.

The sight of her took my breath away. The dress was stunning, highlighting Ava’s perfect beauty. A chorus of whispers erupted from everyone around us.

The dress, what could I even say about it? It was a shimmering gown of deep purple, “eggplant,” as Kinley had called it. It wasn’t puffy like the other gown. Instead, it was sleek and tailored to her gorgeous curves. A slit up the left side showed off a sheer black underlay and just a hint of her thigh. The gown was all Ava, through and through. Ava was on display, the dress and her hair and the tattoo all working together sending the message, “this is me; take it or leave it.”

The smile on her face made it clear that she was quite happy with both how she looked and the effect she was having on the crowd. Ava looked incredible; I could see Analise shining through simultaneously with Ava’s individuality. A feeling of pride welled up inside of me.

“What the hell?” Alaric spoke in a low hiss. “What is going on here? How dare she show up like this! What game is she trying to play?”

Ava began to descend the stairs. As she did, I listened to what people in the crowd had to say.

“She’s… stunning !”

“That is certainly a daring dress, to put it lightly. But it works for her.”

“Modern and beautiful. Simply incredible.”

“I need to know who made that dress. If they are here, find them. I have three events coming up that I want something like that for.”

The unanimous verdict from those in attendance was one of total praise that made it clear that the new princess was, so far, a hit.

“You hear this, Your Majesty?” I leaned in close to Alaric to speak. “She’s a hit.”

Alaric said nothing, his jaw clenched.

“Give her a chance,” I said. “Not everyone shares your aesthetics. I don’t want to get too ahead of ourselves, but it appears that we’ve got a hell of a princess on our hands.”