10
Iarrived late.
By the time I entered the banquet hall, the tables were deserted and faint sounds of merriment floated from the ballroom in the adjacent wing. Servants were clearing porcelain dishes streaked with rich sauces and green specks of garnish, the remnants of an indulgent meal. I lingered for a moment, glad to see the hydrangea centerpieces and the extra table I had requested had served their purpose.
I turned back into the hallway, startling when a group of servants rushed past me. They were carrying a hefty structure covered in white cloth and what looked like pails of paint. One of the servants caught sight of me and curtsied.
“Milady! Have you just arrived?” she asked, her blue eyes wide.
I glanced over her shoulder at the mysterious cargo.
“I have,” I said. “I was on my way to the ball. Is there a renovation going on somewhere?”
“Oh, not at all, milady! Please, don’t let us keep you.” She curtsied again and scampered off with her companions, whispering furiously. “Hurry...told us to...wouldn’t be here at all!”
The group disappeared behind the corner.
THE BALL WAS WELL UNDERWAYwhen I entered through the top of the marble staircase.
The guests were dancing and mingling below, surrounded by white arches overflowing with the blues, pinks, and purples of Queen Cordelia’s hydrangeas. Loose petals floated down occasionally, carpeting the floor in delicate colors. The glittering golden chandeliers set everything aglow. The effect was as enchanting as I had imagined.
The royal herald drew in a breath to announce me as I began descending the long flight of steps, but I held up a hand to stop him. The last thing I wanted was attention. At least, not until I managed to muster up the smiles and civilities needed for the rest of the night.
When I reached the bottom I pulled on a polite smile. Some ambassadors were chattering near the refreshments, others were dancing. None of them were looking at me. I couldn’t decide if that was an insult or a blessing.
On the dance floor, a flash of lilac caught my eye. Bennett, whose waistcoat matched my gown, was dancing with Lady Kelsey, the granddaughter of Sir Oliver of Riverhollow. He was smiling at her. The expression made him twice as handsome.
My heart gave a twinge.
“Isn’t my Kelsey a vision?” came a too-loud voice from my right. I jumped as Sir Oliver himself appeared, a flute of champagne in one shaky hand and a puff pastry in the other. His graying hair was slicked back with far too much oil.
“Certainly,” I said.
“The crown prince is of marriageable age, is he not? He should be married soon,” Sir Oliver wheezed.
Surely the ambassador was notmatchmaking.
“He will be,” I said curtly. “To me.”
So much for smiles and civility.
“Oh yes, Kelsey is a vision,” Sir Oliver said, showing no signs of having heard me at all.
I had hoped to be strong enough to pass the night as if nothing had happened, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t stay and see Bennett be the perfect crown prince and entertainKelsey the vision.
I picked up my skirts and whirled to the exit beneath the stairs, not stopping until I was away from the noise and light and chatter. No one tried to stop me. It was as if my lilac dress had blended in with the hydrangeas—I was just another stray petal that had fallen.
Down the hall, I approached a door that was ajar. This part of the palace held sitting rooms and storage closets, perhaps where the servants were heading off to earlier. I listened. No movement, save for the muffled sounds of the orchestra and the jubilant partygoers. I kicked off my heeled slippers and slipped inside.
The room was dark save for the blade of light that cut in from the hall. Within, white swaths of fabric covered odd angular forms. In the middle of the room was the strange structure the servants were carrying. I sat on the floor behind it, hugging my knees to my chest. I took a breath. Then another. The smell of paint was pungent in the air.
“Narcissa Greenwood, what have you become?” I whispered. Balls used to be easy under Mother’s guidance, but what a poor mistress I was to myself.
