“Yeah,” I whispered, feeling the reverie linger, only to seep deeper into my chest. “For you,” I echoed. Then quickly tacked on with a tilt of my head, “Whoareyou?”
“Erralee,” Her voice was slightly more potent than mine, making me doubt she was experiencing the same thing I was.What was happening?
“Reeves.” I didn’t force a smile, and I couldn’t pull my gaze from her. I feared she’d disappear the moment I looked away, because even though she looked completely real, there was still something so surreal I proceeded with extreme caution.
Like in the movies, the band in the background suddenly crescendos, pulling our attention to the up-tempo swing beat. I was clearly out of my mind as I reached my hand forward, making my intentions clear that I was requesting a dance.I was in a trance. What do they call these things? Love spells. Whatever it was, I had it. All I wanted to do was be near her. Which is absurd because I hate people. Wait, this wasn’t a real attraction. It can’t be. I’m clearly just desperate to get her to stop her wedding. Yeah . . . that’s why I’m acting this way. I need her to like me, so she doesn’t like her fiancé.
Her lashes lowered, but her sweet smile curled on her lips. “I don’t know these steps.”
“It’s just the jitterbug,” I pressed my hand out further, insisting. “I’ll teach you.” Her head turned away, declining. I was out of my mind and stepped forward, slipping my arm around her. I’d never been so forward with a woman, or felt so thoroughly in my place as I did right now. My mind was going full throttle through all the things.Did she really smell this amazing, like fields of lilies and honey, or am I just disoriented by my desperation to stop this wedding?
She allowed me to guide her forward, and I eased her into the steps, back and then under my arms. When she came out giggling, I knew I could speed it up, and I did.
Jitterbugging, for me, was a high-intensity sport. The more twists I could add to it, the better, and it didn’t take me long to see Erralee was a willing dance partner. Nobody would even be able to tell I was missing a real hand. Truthfully, this was one of the first times I didn’t notice I was missing a hand. I wasn’t as focused on my body as I was her smile. Her lips curled across her whole face, enough to make dimples ripple on each cheek. Each time I flung her under my arms, she let out an airy giggle like she was on the most fun roller coaster ride, which only encouraged my big ego to dance faster.
I was on a mission to make her like me, and the more she giggled, the more I accepted that as a green light. She kept up, only missing steps a few times, but we quickly picked back up, carrying on until the song was over. We twirled until we couldn’t hold on for another moment, breaking our hold of each other, and we were left standing a proper arm’s length apart.
My lips parted, about to speak, when royal trumpets blared. Erralee’s brows instantly shot to the sky. “I must go! They're announcing my father. He’ll be livid if I’m not there.”
“Wait—” I reached forward, fingers grasping at the air, but she was gone. I knew not to follow her. Something had happenedthat I couldn’t explain. A stirring in my heart I hadn’t ever felt, but I had to be crazy for feeling this way.
Erralee is a princess who is engaged to a king. She is beautiful, and I let her beauty distract me for a second.
This was clearly just my anxiety. I’m so stressed out about finding a way to pay my bills. A blip in my heart, only confusing me. Shaking my head, releasing the last of my fantasy, I turned and walked back to Dusty.
Now, back to fixing that pipe.
six
Princess Erralee
Desperate to return to the tent, before Father noticed I was gone, I scurried toward the trumpets. The sun was blazing at that awkward evening angle where you can't see anything, and I ran smack into Weston as soon as I hit the street. If I hadn’t immediately recognized him by the locks of blond hair sticking out the side of his hat, I would have screamed in fright.
He always had that past-due haircut look. It wasn’t proper for any military, but since he often went undercover in public, nobody made him cut it. Well, and because I preferred him this way. It's how I always knew him, my childhood friend with a bit of an edge. He pushed every boundary, but not enough that he would get in trouble. It was his art, and he wasn’t afraid of anything. That’s why I felt so safe with him.
He waved me forward. “I’m happy to cover for you, but let me know where you’re going.” His tone was disapproving, but his mischievous grin said how he really felt. He was glad I was safe, and amused that I got away from him again. “One of these days you’re going to get me fired if anyone notices I’m not with you.”
“Sorry about that.” I winced through nervous eyes. It hadn’t dawned on me how long I was gone. I let out a deep breath, inducing my forced calm as I fell into stride with him en route to the tent. As much as Weston’s presence calmed me, the task before me had my heart ripped open.
Dread settled within me. Father had been loving toward me my entire life. Sure, I wanted to make him proud, but this was a betrayal. He was fulfilling it in the most gruesome way. A public performance to lock me into this lie. He understood if I backed out after tonight, the entire country would blame me for the continuation of the war. I’d never be able to show my face again. There was no use talking to Father either, but . . .
Perhaps I can talk to King Aswell?
Before I found my father, I scoured the tent for King Aswell. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw him standing alone, away from Father. He was impeccably dressed in a long black velvet coat which nearly clung to the ground. It had rich gold piping all along the bottom edges, and I didn’t doubt the gold was real. Though his skin was olive toned and his eyes only held dark hues, black really wasn’t his best color. It set off an ominous vibe, and just like that, a giant shadow, the size of a tree, broad, powerful, and potent, encased my heart.
As if he was reading my mind, King Aswell’s gaze fell on me, and he started pacing toward me. I held my breath.Please be more understanding than Father.A mere moment later, he was by my side with a furrowed brow. He dispensed with traditional greetings. “You are hesitant.” His expression was not unkind, but it still didn’t feel familiar.
Pushing my fingers into my temples, I paused to find the right words without offending him. “It’s a lot of pressure,” I finally managed while still afraid to look at him. “I would feel better if we could slow down, and go a more traditional route, getting to know each other before we made everything so public.”
His breath was heavy, crackling in the air between us, aiding the feeling that the world was closing in on me. “That’s understandable.”
“What?” Used to my father’s totalitarian ruling style, I wasn’t expecting a sympathetic response. My heart hammered in my chest as I searched his face for help.
“I don’t wish you to live your life afraid of me.” His look of concern morphed into an appreciative grin. “I would love the chance to get to know you.”
“Then why are we rushing—” I dropped my question because I had the answer. “My father wants to rush, right?”
“He’s eager to end this war. I can’t commit my country's resources until we have a proper union. It’s not fair to my country because this isn’t our enemy.” He lowered his gaze thoughtfully, parting his lips as if his words were waiting to come out.He is going to apply some ultimatum.When he finally did speak, he surprised me. “If you choose to marry me, my country would be very blessed to have you as their queen.”
