“Dominic?” I said slowly, looking off to the ceiling. “Never knew one.”
“Oh.” She flipped back a few pages and scratched something out, a disappointed frown on her lips.
Good. Whatever lies Dominic had fed her about me would never see the light of day.
“Well, never mind that. Let’s talk about what happened two nights ago,” Sister Scarlett said brightly, refocusing her attention on me. “The king had the rioters surrounded. It must’ve been a frightening experience.”
“I wasn’t there.” Perhaps if I kept my answers short she’d leave faster. The last of the witches had filed into the auditorium. Any minute now the show would start. I wanted to make sure Celeste failed.
“His Majesty and the crown prince left you here shortly after,” Sister Scarlett continued. “Why is that?”
I forced myself to meet her shrewd eyes, though her words brought a pang from the memory of their sudden departure. “They had prisoners to take care of in Delibera. It would be unseemly for me to join them.”
“Of course.” She wrote a few words before looking up again. “And how do you feel now that you are separated from the crown prince?”
Another pang. I pushed it down. “Fine. We both have duties outside of being in each other’s company.” My words sounded more bitter than I intended.
I cringed inwardly as a flow of sentences appeared in Sister Scarlett’s notebook.
“How would you describe your relationship with His Highness?” Her fervent expression made it clear this was the main reason she was here. “I’m sure all of Olderea is wondering how you and Crown Prince Bennett went from strangers at the beginning of the tour to the close—ah, individuals—you are now.”
The auditorium lights had yet to dim, but the audience had all been escorted to their boxes. “Our relationship?” I murmured distractedly. “It’s fine.”
Sister Scarlett furrowed her brow at the vague answer. My legs grew restless as the ushers began to snuff out the candlelight.
“Could you elaborate on that?” she said.
I repressed a sigh. Short answers weren’t working.
“We’re head over heels in love with each other and we plan on having five children once we’re married. King Maximus is already scouring the kingdom for nannies. It’ll be a grand occasion,” I said, barely able to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Is that all? I would like to attend the show.”
“Yes! Yes, of course,” Sister Scarlett said, scribbling profusely. “That is perfect.”
She blathered something else about children and how darling they were, but I slipped into the auditorium, glancing up at the box I had occupied during the past two shows. It was full. I scoured the dim room for an empty seat. A shock of white hair caught my eye in the center front.
“Oh, hello Lady Narcissa,” Ferdinand said in surprise as I squeezed into his box. Giovanni gaped at me as I sat in the empty seat beside him.
I felt sorry for the intrusion, but the two weren’t going to have a pleasant night either way. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you,” I said, smiling as if barging into other people’s boxes was a normal occurrence.
Luckily, the old witch didn’t seem to be versed in the rules of society. “Of course not! We’ll be honored.”
I thanked him and leaned back, trying to look relaxed. My nerves were practically humming. Had Maddox made it to the wires? Was Giselle prepared to cast her spell?
Unfortunately, I was stuck in my seat. Was this what being royalty was like—making all the decisions but never carrying them out personally? It was maddening. Perhaps this was how Bennett felt before the tour.
I gnawed my lower lip as Ferdinand chattered about his experience with theatrical productions. I did my best to appear engaged. At last, the curtains began to lift. A sliver of bright light and an ethereal background appeared, then the bottom of the hovering moon, then a train of a glittering robe, then Celeste herself, hovering over it all.
Oohs and ahs filled the auditorium. The orchestra began playing the soulful tune to her opening song. Celeste parted her lips.
Now, Maddox, I thought fiercely.
A loud twang sounded before the soprano could sing a note. The moon she hung from dropped, swinging violently to the side. The audience gasped.
“Is that part of the show?” Ferdinand asked, baffled.
My satisfaction with Maddox’s timely efforts didn’t last. Celeste clung onto the swinging moon with surprising strength and grace, reaching an arm out to the audience. She began to sing.
I cursed when the first note hit the air. Giovanni squeaked, but seconds later he froze, eyes glued to the stage.
