Page 17 of Royal Resistance

“You’ve been in the Darren bubble for too long, my friend, and I’m so glad it has popped. I can tell interest from a mile away.” She pats her stomach. “A prime example of my talent.”

“You got very lucky.” I’m happy Courtney found love so quickly, but it’s difficult not to be a little envious.

Courtney smiles at me. “There’s lots of luck to go around, so it’s time to get over the Boring Baron and find someone for yourself. And what better way to find someone than at a ball? In a ballroom! In a castle. Now, come on.” She tugs at my elbow. “Let’s go find you some more of that champagne so I can smell it.”

“Smell it?”

“I certainly can’t drink it in this condition.”

She tucks her arm through mine, and we head to find me a drink.

Afterward, the evening takes a turn when, prompted by Courtney, I dance with three men, and each turns out to be more obnoxious than the next.

The first one, a cocky American without knowledge of anything that has happened in Avelaine, and who thinks he’s a sure bet to be a “king to my queen.” He is not impressed when I tell him that I’m not going to be queen, and even if I am, he would be my last choice as king.

The second, an attractive, somewhat smarmy Italian, does his best to woo me during the four-minute song and when I don’t fall into his arms like he thinks I should, heads off in pursuit of his next target and leaves me alone on the floor.

The third doesn’t warrant a description.

The next man to ask me to dance is King Magnus.

I’ve watched him take the floor, with women each more attractive than the last. For a man of his size, he’s quite graceful.

He also has some moves, as shown when he dances with a pretty brunette.

I notice that he’s rarely without a glass in his hand and suspect his being over-served helps with the smiles and the small talk. He seems quite personable. Charming, even.

I can’t help the flicker of resentment. I shouldn’t let it bother me—we have very different lives. Just because he has been crowned king and I will never be queen doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be allowed to have fun.

No one is to blame, other than a stupid caveat in the Charter.

I’ve let go of my anger toward my father. He fell in love with Lorraine, and I’m glad he’s doing what he needs to be happy.

When Magnus finds me laughing in the corner with Courtney and Lorraine, watching my father leading the Queen of England around the floor, I accept his request to dance out of obligation.

And because Courtney practically pushes me into his arms.

“It’s a lovely party,” I begin as his arm circles my waist. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.” I wish I didn’t sound so disapproving. I should be happy for the man. He’s just gotten everything he’s ever wanted.

Magnus’s wide smile dims at my comment. “Why shouldn’t I be having fun?”

“It is your coronation ball, after all. You’ve just been crowned king of Laandia. Granted, it’s a smallish country and part of Canada…”

Magnus’s expression snaps closed. “You can insult me all you want, but I’d appreciate it if you leave out Laandia, or even Canada.”

I draw back in shock. The easy charm is gone, leaving a steely coolness in its place.

“I get that you’re dealing with some resentment about your life plan being all out of whack, but I’d appreciate if you not take it out on my country,” he continues.

I’ve never had anyone speak to me like that.

“I don’t blame you for being in bad mood, especially with those dance partners I saw you with. But still… it’s my party. I’d be cool if you want to start over.”

“I think I’d rather walk away and leave you alone on the dance floor.” I retort. Not much of a comeback, but I’m still in shock.

About how he seems to be able to see right through me.

I was letting the surge of annoyance slip into anger, and it’s not fair to Magnus.