“It’s what Princess Marianne would do,” he had said.
So, Nin found herself strolling in awkward silence with her “cousin”. Adelina’s attendant walked behind with Otto, while Lucille lingered further back. It was a beautiful morning, lit with soft, golden light and blooming roses, completely at odds with the strange tension buzzing between them.
“It’s been far too long since you’ve written to me,” Adelina said, tilting her blush parasol. The color matched the roses embroidered on her cream skirt, flowing delicately around her matching slippers. “How are your singing lessons going?”
Nin hesitated. Princess Marianne was renowned for her pure quality of voice, but unfortunately, Nin was not. It was best to avoid any public demonstrations of her sad bleating.
“They’ve had to pause since my illness,” she said carefully.
“Oh, posh!” Adelina said with a dismissive wave. “There’s no way an illness could stop you. I’m the reason you even took up singing, do you recall? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be where you are now.”
Nin forced a polite smile that failed to reach her eyes. She noted the way Adelina claimed credit for the princess’s accomplishments.
The crunching gravel beneath their heels punctuated the silence, and the swaying branches above cast shadows over their steps.
“But I suppose any talent might overwhelm someone with delicate sensitivities,” Adelina continued in the samesweet, needling way.
“I’ll manage somehow,” Nin said, keeping her tone pleasant.
“As you always do,” Adelina said, glancing at her with a faint smirk. “With help.”
Nin’s stomach tightened. Frustration crept hot up her throat, but she steeled herself. Was this what close relationships among royals looked like? If so, she did not envy them.
Footsteps, measured and unhurried, sounded over the stone pathway. From the corner of her eye, she spied a head of dark hair and rich, chocolate eyes.
Prince Rodrigue approached with his signature smile—warm, affectionate—and Nin gulped in response. Her heart gave a panicked lurch. It had been a few days since she had last seen him at dinner, but their meetings had been brief, restricted, and closely monitored. She had secretly thanked the Maker that she didn’t have to keep up the charade as his beloved often. Her stomach clenched whenever he directed a fond glance or a tender smile her way.
The pretense she was forced to uphold prickled her spine.
Something glistened in Nin’s peripheral vision. She glimpsed a spark of envy flashing in Adelina’s eyes, but it vanished the moment Rodrigue stopped before them.
“I was looking for you, Princess Marianne,” he said to Nin, his voice dipping softly. Then, noticing Adelina at her side, he bowed his head politely. “Forgive me—it’s good to see you as well, Princess Adelina.”
Adelina’s smile turned coy as she twirled her lacy parasol over her shoulder. “It is a delight to see you again. Why don’t you join us?”
Nin inwardly groaned. The invitation left little room for Prince Rodrigue to politely object.
“Only for a little while,” he said, his focus drifting back to Nin. “I wanted to see my intended before I was called away.”
Nin’s cheeks warmed despite herself.Intended.The word sank to the pit of her stomach. For a moment, she didn’t know where to look and settled for the ground. Yet she sensed with that same prickling awareness that Adelina was assessing her with narrow eyes again. Was it jealousy, or did Adelina suspect she was not the true princess?
Nin’s training snapped into place, her posture relaxing into the graceful stance Cedric had drilled into her. It all happened in a matter of moments, but relief flooded her veins when her “cousin” gestured to the path with a delicate cream-gloved hand.
“Wonderful! I am so pleased you can join us,” Adelina said, directing her pleasantry toward the prince.
“The pleasure is mine,” Rodrigue said with a slight bow. He made to move in Nin’s direction, but a wall of cream skirts blocked his path.
Adelina stepped in so seamlessly and unexpectedly that Nin barely registered how the princess had wedged herself between the betrothed couple. The parasol resting over Adelina’s shoulder swung when she settled beside Rodrigue, its narrow point skimmed the precarious space above Nin’s nose.
Nin leaned back instinctively, forcing herself not to flinch.
“Then let us be off,” Adelina said, beaming up at Rodrigue.
The princess’s skirts swayed like the ebb and flow of a tide, and with each step, the silk brushed against Rodrigue’s leg.
Nin pressed her lips together, effortlessly keeping up with Adelina’s subtle but swift pace. The sound of footsteps trailed behind them, and Nin almost forgot their chaperones were watching. She peered over her shoulder and caught Ambassador Otto’s frown. Perhaps he was not impressed by the princess’s behavior as much as she was.
“You are such a kind gentleman,” Adelina said as they strolled past a pond where a small waterfall splashed gently over glossy stone. The bubbling sound entwined with the birdsong in the treetops.
