“What is it?” Astoria whispers, and I shake off the haunting sensation of recognition.
“Nothing. I just nearly slipped,” I reply, finishing my glass of sparkling wine in a quick gulp.
The stranger’s green eyes—flecked with gold—stare back at me from behind a mask of raven feathers and black diamonds. His evening suit shimmers iridescent black, tailored to emphasize his broad, well-built frame. He and General Pryor make sweeping bows, giving us room to join their conversation.
General Pryor speaks in the same measured tone he always carries. “Your Highnesses, may I present Mr. Morris Blackwell?”
The man doesn’t break his penetrating gaze as he takes my gloved hand, drawing it to his lips for a kiss. My heart races, and I struggle to keep from trembling in his grasp.
His eyes.
They’re so familiar to Kieran’s that it’s like seeing a ghost. But in every other way, he’s wrong—too dark, too tall, far too strong to be the boy who once stole my heart and left this world for good. What I can see of his face reveals a sharply defined jaw and angular features.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” I say, keeping my voice light and steady.
“The pleasure is mine, I’m sure, Princess Genevieve.”
Not Kieran’s voice. Not with that faint Icelantican lilt and the deeper timbre I don’t recognize. He also didn’t call me Gen—the nickname only Kieran ever used for me, despite our vastly different stations in life. He was never one to care about social status, or the fact that I’m a blueblood princess and he was a redblood gardener’s son.
What am I thinking? Of course it isn’t his voice.
Kieran has beendeadfor nine years. My mind can’t help but drift back to the last time I saw him—to the hurt in his eyes. I did that to him. I was the reason he left. I chose the crown over him, betrayed him for my kingdom, and then he left me, breaking my heart in the process.
I pull my gaze from Mr. Blackwell as I see a flash of white approaching. “Ah! There you all are! Princess Genevieve, I see you’ve met Mr. Blackwell.” Prince Leland’s smile gleams behind his white, pearl-encrusted mask—the twin to my own—and I force a smile as I make room for my intended. I continue to feel a current of emotion rush through me, especially as I notice the man still watching me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.
Leland leans close, his gloved hand brushing my bare shoulder. “The music is about to begin. Queen Penelope requested that I bring you to her. We’re to begin the first dance with your mother and father, as well as Queen Kalise and Prince Gabriel.”
“Of course. Excuse us,” I say to the others, and Leland takes my hand, offering his arm to escort me. His touch isn’t unwelcome—it’s simply there. Glove to glove, in the most proper manner.
“I hope your day was good?” Leland asks, reminding me that we haven’t seen each other since yesterday afternoon.
“It was, thank you for asking.” A good day only if one enjoys the endless process of gown fittings, hair styling, and having little time to oneself. “How was your first full day in Naseria?”
“Splendid! General Pryor, Mr. Blackwell, and I had the pleasure of making use of your well-stocked lake. King Hugo and your brothers were excellent hosts, and we all left with a full creel of fish.”
“You must be quite the fisherman, then. I’m happy you had the opportunity to enjoy our lake. My father loves nothing more than to host a day of fishing. Do you often fish in Icelantica?”
We make our way past guests dressed in their finest, the chandeliers scattering light across the crowd. We’re nearly to the dais where the three monarchs wait.
“Unfortunately, not as often as I’d like. Our lakes stay frozen for seven months of the year, and I’m often too busy to find the time for ice fishing.”
This surprises me. “I know you’ve mentioned your duties to Icelantica, but are you busy most days?”
I think of my own father—the way he always made time for us as children, even when our mother couldn’t. How he still spends his days entertaining guests or visiting shop owners in Crawford. He’s always socializing, always sharing his warm smiles at redbloods and bluebloods alike, even when Mother is buried in endless meetings.
“My sister utilizes my skills—and my gift—often in her court. She is very private and prefers that I take a more active role in the kingdom.”
I glance at the woman seated beside my mother. Her back is rigid, her visible features drawn in a harsh line. She looks utterly unapproachable, and I can see why she depends on Leland to rule.
“What will she do without you in Icelantica?”
Leland’s gaze shifts to his sister. “It will be difficult for her, but I think it will also give her the opportunity to become the ruler I know she can be.”
I nod, feeling a pang of guilt that I’m taking Queen Kalise’s only family—the one person she seems to rely on so completely. I knew this from our correspondence, from his letters describing how much she depends on him, but I assumed he wouldn’t have agreed to this match without her blessing. Perhaps I was wrong.
We reach the platform where the monarchs sit, and I curtsy as Leland bows low. My mother and father rise and make their way to the ballroom floor, Queen Kalise following behind. My brother meets her with another bow as he takes her gloved hand. There’s a tightness between them, as though both would rather walk barefoot across crushed glass than take the other’s hand.
The gaslight chandeliers dim. The music begins. I feel Leland’s hand rest lightly at the small of my back. My hand finds his shoulder, and we begin a fluid dance. It’s an upbeat, energetic song, just as Mother prefers.
