Page 46 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

brEYLA

T he day of the ball arrives, and I lock my door, refusing breakfast and company.

The emotions are overwhelming, and it feels like there’s no one I’m allowed to share them with. I find myself wanting to confide in Rowina, but I don’t know if I can trust her, and she just reminds me how much I miss Ophelia.

Ophelia prepared me for the last engagement ball.

This time, I’m on my own.

I could ask for help, but my emotions are all over the place, and I prefer the solitude. The only people’s presence I crave, I can’t have.

I stare at the new brown leather boots at the foot of my bed, the other source of my emotional turmoil.

After the planning meeting, I had reluctantly returned the pilfered boots to Rowina. Ayden had held up his end of the bargain and allowed me to keep my own boots, but when I returned to my room, there was a wrapped box waiting on my bed.

Inside, I found the new boots with a note, penned in Aurelius' perfect script: Don’t ever let them silence your voice.

I find my resolve weakening day by day. I had been so angry, so sure I couldn’t forgive him for the secrets, that I refused to hear when he tried to tell me his truth. Since we arrived in Prudia, he had spent so much energy trying to bridge the gap between us.

But now… now I realize it’s past time I actually hear him.

Aurelius had never given me anything, not that I had expected him to. But the fact that the first thing he gifted me was something so meaningful and thoughtful has me more conflicted than ever.

It was a promise.

A reminder of who I am.

And the knowledge of what I could never have, not without burning everything to the ground.

I was engaged to his brother. Not that it was my choice, but I wouldn’t start a war over this. I couldn’t willingly put more of my people at risk over my own heart. It was selfish and short-sighted.

I just wish I saw another way.

It was already midday, and past time for me to get dressed. Guests would be arriving soon, and I needed to be ready.

Sighing, I opened the wardrobe to pull out the gown I was to wear. Only, I don’t find it. Well, not all of it.

The gold ball gown hangs shredded and singed, the ends blackened as if they’d been held over a flame and allowed to burn just long enough to char the edges.

There was no way I could wear this now, and somehow, I know exactly who is responsible.

I pull out the ruined dress and toss it on the floor. Behind it hangs another gown with a note pinned to the bodice.

You’re beautiful in whatever you wear, but gold really isn’t your color. Wear this instead. Please.

The please was tacked on the end as if it were an afterthought to make it a request rather than a demand.

The dress it’s pinned to is the first gown that the dressmaker showed me, the one I was too hesitant to fight for.

Aurelius had somehow seen how much I preferred the black and abhorred the gold. He had seen me and encouraged me to voice my feelings.

I feel another bit of ice melt from around my heart at the gesture.

A smile forms at the corner of my lips as I run my hand down the gown.

The fabric is a nude satin overlaid with layers of lace and tulle, the deep V-neckline edged in black lace. Gold leaves adorn the bodice of the dress and trail down the skirt to the floor, giving the appearance of autumn leaves falling against a night sky.

I slip into it easily, the silken material hugging my curves perfectly. Relief floods me, gratitude so fierce it leaves a lump in my throat.

I weave my hair into intricate braids, twisting them together in a low, neat bun with several loose curls framing my face.

My natural, bare face stares at me, mocking me for never learning how to apply makeup. What use was that skill on the battlefield? None whatsoever.

I slip on velvety, soft black flats, grateful that I wasn’t expected to dance in heels. Boots would have been preferable, but they ruined the aesthetic and weren’t as easy to dance in.

A knock rattles my door, startling me out of my thoughts. When I open it, I find Rowina looking disappointedly up at me on the other side.

“I said I didn’t need help,” I say before she can speak.

She pushes her way past me. “I didn’t ask.” Her keen eyes assess me, lingering on the dress. “What happened to the other gown?”

“An unfortunate encounter with your brother.”

“I’ve never known Ayden to destroy a female’s clothing,” she hums, suspicion filling her tone.

I give her a small shrug. “I guess you don’t know everything about your brother.”

“You keep saying my brother.” Her eyes narrow. “But not which one.”

“Why are you here exactly?” I deflect, still unsure where my trust in her stands. “As you can see, I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself for the evening.”

She snorts in disbelief. “I can see that. Was the natural look a fashion choice or a lack of knowledge?”

“A fashion choice,” I say flatly.

“Liar.”

“Rude,” I scoff.

“Sit,” she demands, pointing to the stool before the vanity.

I relent, falling ungracefully into the seat.

“Close your eyes.”

I feign reluctance before finally obeying. Soft brushes glide across my lids, cool fingers lining my eyes with kohl. When I open them again, I barely recognize myself.

The reflection is me, but sharper. Bolder.

Brown and cream shadows smudge my eyelids, the black kohl winged softly at the corners.

“His outburst at the council meeting was inappropriate,” Rowina says casually as she brushes color onto my cheeks, “but Aurelius was right.”

“About?”

“The gown. The black really does look better on you. Gold doesn’t suit your skin tone.”

“As much as I’m loath to admit it, Aurelius is right about a lot of things.”

She smirks. “Don’t let him, or Ayden, hear you say that.”

“I wouldn’t dare. Their egos are far too fragile,” I say with a giggle that she matches.

Rowina completes the look by applying a pale pink lip stain.

“There,” she praises. “Now you are ready.”

I stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes meet hers—a perfectly golden color that shines underneath dark lashes and the kohl rimming them.

Not a pawn. Not a girl in a gilded cage.

“You’re dangerous like this,” Rowina whispers, her voice a caress against my ear.

“I look presentable,” I say lightly, breaking the spell.

“Presentable?” she scoffs. “Darling, you look good enough to eat.”

I blush, breaking our eye contact.

“I love the shades of pink you turn for me,” she whispers, leaning in to brush a kiss against my cheek. “Gods, I detest both of my brothers right now.”

I dare to voice the question I’m not sure I want the answer to. “Why?”

Her answer is surprisingly sincere: “One because he’s had you, and the other because he gets to keep you.”

“Such a strange princess you are,” I say, trying to shake myself out of the trance she has me in.

“The same has been said about you, Princess,” she quips right back.

“Yes, but for very different reasons.” I turn away from her, moving to stand.

Her hand catches my shoulder, holding me in place.

“If you let me in, if you really got to know me,” Rowina says quietly, “I think you'd find we're not so different.”

“I want to let you in,” I admit, surprising even myself. “I just don't know if I can trust you.”

“Do you trust Ayden?” she asks, her tone unreadable.

“Maybe with some things,” I reply slowly. “But overall, no. I know he’s hiding things.”

“And yet,” she presses, “you trusted Aurelius when he was hiding things from you.”

The accusation stings more than I want to admit.

“I did,” I say, but find it lacks some of the bitterness I was used to. “And it came back to hurt me. Hence the reason I’m more cautious with my trust now.”

“And do you trust Aurelius?”

Her question lands with the weight of a boulder.

I hesitate before responding. “Yes.”

Rowina nods, satisfied. “Did you ever stop to consider that the things they’ve kept from you weren’t your burdens to bear? That maybe, just maybe, they kept them to protect you?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“You need to learn to trust even when you don’t have the full story,” Rowina says bluntly.

“I’m working on it,” I admit softly.

“Forget what you think you know. Forget what you’ve been told about my brother, about our kingdom. What do his actions tell you?”

I frown, considering her words.

Ayden had arranged a marriage with me for the sake of peace between our kingdoms, but he had done it without my knowledge.

He had been moving pieces among my court, but in doing so, exposed a traitor behind so much tragedy.

When I had come onto him to drown my own pain and in an attempt to hurt Aurelius, Ayden had turned me down. I don’t know many males who would have turned me down, regardless of my intentions.

His actions are a tapestry of manipulation and care so tightly interwoven that pulling one thread unravels the other.

“That’s a complicated answer,” I finally say.

“I think you’ll surprise yourself when you figure out the answer.” Rowina smiles.

She pulls a gold and black diadem from a small box I hadn't noticed, settling it into my braids.

It digs into the side of my head, slightly too small for me. While it matches my dress flawlessly, it doesn’t feel natural to me. I long for the crimson jewels of my normal crown.

“One last thing,” she says, retrieving another box.

Inside is a mask. Intricate gold filigree patterns twist together and overlay a soft black velvet to form a dainty covering.

I hold it to my face, feeling a part of me slipping away. The mask hides nothing—and yet it hides everything.

Rowina ties it in place, securing it with a few pins.

When I look in the mirror, I see myself, and yet, I don’t recognize the reflection at all. This beautiful stranger isn’t someone I know.

The knock comes a short while later.

When I open the door, Ayden greets me with a wide, easy smile. “I see Aurelius was correct about the dress,” he says, offering me his arm.

“And how is that?” I ask, taking it.

“The black suits you far better,” he admits sheepishly.