Lady Cabril only grabbed it more firmly. “We cannot let a kitchen maid go to the ball looking like a lord’s daughter.”
“Oh, no, that would never do,” Stasiya agreed, tearing another flower from the skirt.
“Did you think I would let you risk my daughter’s chances tonight?”
Stasiya reached up to grab the flowers at Ashlin’s neckline. She slipped and grabbed on to Ashlin’s sleeve for support. The delicate silk gave way with a loud screech.
Still in shock, Ashlin grabbed at her ruined sleeve with one hand to try and assess the damage. She kept her other hand on her scalp in an attempt to alleviate the constant pressure. “I never intended to stand in your way. I would have done nothing but watch the dancing from a balcony.” She tried to twist out of their combined grasp.
But with Stasiya in front, still ripping off the final few flowers, and her stepmother holding her hair firmly behind her, she could not move.
“You are a selfish, lying child. You destroyed my happiness and I shall always be here to destroy yours. You will never be a part of this family.” With a final twist, her stepmother finally let go of her hair and stepped around her. She looked composed, as though she had just come from her dressing room mirror, except that her face was lightly flushed.
Stasiya stepped away at the same time, a smug smile on her face as she surveyed her handiwork.
Ashlin looked down. The beautiful blue dress hung in tatters. One sleeve was ripped off and hanging halfway down her arm, the gauzy overlay on the skirt had been torn off, and the flowers she had carefully stitched for her sister were strewn about the floor.
“I believe the carriage is here, my dear,” Lady Cabril said, her eyes tracing Ashlin from head to foot. She shrugged. “I’m afraid you cannot go to the ball looking like that.”
Ashlin stared at her stepmother in shock. Who was this cruel woman? Had she always been this way?
Lady Cabril shoved Onric’s cloak into Ashlin’s chest, pushing her half a step backward. “I knew he recognized you that day,” she snarled.
Ashlin grasped at the cloak as her stepmother turned towards the door. “Goodnight, dear,” she threw over her shoulder. “Do be sure to clean this up before we get back.”
Stasiya followed her mother out of the room without a backwards glance.
Chapter 28
Onric felt an old, familiar jealousy squeezing his chest. The girl he was dancing with kept looking over his shoulder to find Ian. Not that he himself felt anything towards this particular woman, but it still hurt to be invisible.
As if reading his thoughts, she looked at him and smiled. He smiled back, then lifted his arm and spun her under it as the dance called for. She took the opportunity to search for Ian again. The strains of the music drowned out the sound of his sigh.
His older brother had been on the dais in the center of the room since the start of the dancing, taking a turn with each of the young women who had waited in a long line that skirted the edge of the room.
As soon as the current song came to a soft close, Onric bowed to his partner and released her hand.
He glanced throughout the room. Staying on the alert as a palace guard was much preferable to imagining which of the women in the room he wanted to present to his father.
Ian bowed over the hand of the next woman in line, a forced smile on his face. Erich was dancing just below the dais, his white and gold shirt easy to spot in the midst of the moving sea of people. Onric watched his younger brother for a moment, enjoying the flamboyant motion of his swinging arms. He had no idea how his younger brother managed to make such big movements even while dancing. Although Erich was eighteen, he often seemed like a child trying to act the part of an adult. Seeing that the woman he was dancing with was nearly twice his age, Onric grinned. At least you could count on Erich to make sure everyone in the room was enjoying themselves.
Onric continued scanning the faces in the room. He was not particularly looking for royalty, but rather he found his eyes scouring the faces of the maids that came through the room offering refreshments and clearing off the tables. He knew Ashlin would not be working this evening, but he could not resist his desire to see her.
He did notice his sister, Meena, dancing near the edge of the crowded dance floor. She was smiling and seemed to be enjoying herself. He took a close look at the young man she was dancing with and recognized him as a young lord from one of the neighboring cities. Dancing not far away from her, his father was also eyeing the young man out of the corner of his eye. Seemingly satisfied with his inspection, King Frederich turned back to his wife, who was also his dancing partner. Onric usually enjoyed seeing his parents happy together, but at the moment it only fed the bitterness inside of him. It was not fair that they’d had the freedom to choose each other out of love.
He quickly looked away, scanning the room for Aden, who was nowhere in sight. Likely he was on one of the upper balconies discussing deeply thoughtful theories with a few of his friends. Onric could not blame him. He needed a break from the stuffy ballroom. The fine embroidery around the stiff color of his brown doublet seemed to shrink into his throat, suffocating him.
He decided to check on the palace guard, to make sure everything was safe and that nothing was causing alarm.
He stepped out of a side door and let the cool evening air wash over him.
He paused by one of the guards stationed out of view of the guests but who still had a full purview of the side door he had just exited.
“Drirsi.” He nodded to the guard. “Anything to report?”
“No, sir. Everything has been quiet out here.”
“Good.” He didn’t move back towards the door.
