Being attached to a so-called royal is just as isolating an activity as it was at the start. It’s lonely at the top, especiallywhen every girl who looks my way is utterly convinced they’re more deserving of royal attention than me.
Dahlia’s company is a treasure, and I won’t test us by refusing to turn up to the dance she’s been looking forward to for months.
“We can leave at any time.”
There’s the sound of a clearing throat and a tap on my window. With a guilty start, I wind it down, smiling sweetly at my brother.
“Were you two going without me?”
Ant is dressed in a tux and somehow looking a lot more comfortable in the attire than I’m managing in my expensive dress.
“I was just about to beep the horn,” Maddox answers, briefly widening his eyes at me until I have to bite down on a laugh. “But you spared me the bother.”
My brother gets into the back seat, fiddling with his bow tie. I’d been astonished when he expressed an interest in attending the Easter Ball, it hardly seems the kind of event he’d be used to, but I concede he looks the part.
There’s still a palpable tension between him and Maddox but I try my best to pretend I can’t feel it; like the air crackling between them is perfectly normal and not making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“Now, remember,” Ant says with a mischievous light in his eye. “Once we’re through the door, please pretend you don’t know me.”
“Sure,” Maddox scoffs. “That’ll fool them. No one’s going to suspect the redheads who look suspiciously alike could be related.”
I twist in my seat. “Why aren’t I allowed to know you? What’re you up to?”
“Nothing bad. I’m just pressing the flesh and getting to know the movers and shakers in this town. Considering the large hole in my resume, I thought a personal introduction would help ease me into the job market.” He leans forward and ruffles my hair while I give a squeal and fend him off. “Can’t have little sis cramping my style.”
“Just so long as you’re not hooking up in front of me.”
He bursts into laughter. “I’m not promising anything.”
“You’re meant to take care of yourself for the first year of recovery. Not get entangled with anyone else.”
The eye roll I catch in the rear-view mirror tells me exactly what he thinks of my reminder.
From our house, the drive to the event only takes fifteen minutes. At the entrance, we leave the vehicle and hand a valet the keys.
“You’re ready?”
“After the work it took to get me looking like this?” I fake a pose that would be worthy of a pinned post on Dahlia’s home page, then take his arm. “You bet.”
Inside, I take one look around, and relax. It’s just a party, albeit one with more planning and a higher price tag than most. Nothing to fear.
Wilder arrives, paying more attention to his phone than to the event. Dahlia hooks her arm through mine, insisting Maddox do the honours and introduce her to everyone she doesn’t already know.
One turn around the floor and I’m dizzy, but she’s in her element. Enormous smiles and shoulder hugs are the order of the night as she documents everyone and everything on her phone.
Ant has the same idea, getting into groups, no matter how tightly knit, and pressing the flesh like he’s channelling a politician in their prime. Dahlia is soon besotted, spending mostof the first hour in his close vicinity, openly admiring him while Wilder’s frown grows ever deeper.
For those of us not intent on impressing or networking with everyone in sight, the evening passes a lot more slowly. We gravitate towards the bar, landing on the edge of a group where Maddox knows a few people enough to chat, without getting dragged into deep conversation. His arm is supportive around my waist as he invites me into the small talk, explaining all the shared history I’m missing so I can keep pace.
The hall grows warmer, and I glance towards the balcony, thinking the cool autumn breeze would be welcome.
“You have to be kidding me,” a rough voice says from behind us, and I suppress a groan, painting a smile on my lips as I turn to see Blaine staring at me with his glare already on high-beam. “How could you even think about coming here tonight?”
“It’s all for a good cause,” I say, face straining within the first few seconds. “But I’m sure the room is large enough for us to stay out of each other’s way all night.”
“Or you could leave. Perhaps there’s a waiter out the back who needs servicing.”
He glances towards Maddox, the conversation a charade to get his son to engage. The man’s hard to read at the best of times but it’s the only explanation that makes sense.
