Disenchanted

by Susan Carroll

  Prince Florian accorded me a graceful bow. “My lady, would you honor me with the next—”

  “No!”

  The vehemence of Ryland’s outburst startled both Florian and me.

  “My dear brother, you must allow the young lady to speak for herself—” Florian began but he was cut off by Ryland’s snarl.

  “I already told you no. You just stay away from her. Do you hear me?”

  Florian shook his head, giving his brother a patronizing smile. “Tsk, tsk. This display of jealousy is most unbecoming, Ry. I only want one dance with the lady. I am not intending to steal her away forever. Unless the lady wishes it?”

  Florian held out his hand to me, raising one eyebrow in a teasing fashion.

  Before I could react, Ryland charged at his brother. I had never known the man I had thought of as Harper to behave in a jealous or possessive fashion. He had never been anything but kind and gentle. I watched, stunned, as Ryland attempted to hurl Florian away from me.

  Florian was a full head taller and stronger. I suspected he could have easily knocked Ryland down. Instead, he sought to restrain Ryland by seizing his wrists. Somehow in the scuffle, one of Ryland’s embroidered gauntlets came off.

  Not just his glove, but his entire right hand!

  I gasped at the sight of the gauntlet that Florian still clutched. A carved wooden hand protruded from the end of the velvet cuff, the leather straps that had attached the device to Ryland’s arm now dangling free. I caught a glimpse of an ugly stump before Ryland shook down the sleeve of his frock coat to conceal it.

  Ryland turned to me with stricken eyes. My face has always been too transparent. I could not conceal the horror I felt. Ryland emitted a choked cry. He snatched his false hand away from his brother, shoved his way past Florian and fled.

  The merry lilt of the music, the sound of happy voices drifted from the ballroom, making a mockery of the dreadful revelation I had just witnessed. Now I understood the reason for Ryland’s awkwardness during our dance, why he had not lifted me off my feet.

  I sagged back against the balustrade, numb with shock. Florian approached me with an apologetic look on his face. “I am so sorry you had to see that, my lady. My brother is very sensitive about his injury. It hurts and mortifies him deeply to have it revealed to anyone. I could kick myself for my clumsiness. I never intended to expose him so cruelly.”

  “But…but his hand,” I faltered. “What happened to him?”

  “Alas, he lost his right hand during one of his dragon-hunting quests. My brother is a gentle soul. I never understood his need to prove himself in such a reckless fashion. He should never have attempted to challenge a dragon. He is no warrior.”

  No, the man I had known as Harper was not. His folly infuriated me, chasing after dragons when he should have found the courage to stand by me if he loved me as much as he claimed. I tried to harden my heart against his dreadful injury. So what if he had lost his hand! It served him right. But when I recalled the sweet music he had made, the magic in his fingers as he strummed his lute, I wanted to weep.

  My eyes filled with tears and I had to blink hard to contain them. I started when Prince Florian touched my cheek. I had not even noticed how close he had drawn to me. Even though he was regarding me with an expression of great concern, I felt strangely uncomfortable. I inched away from him, but he caught my hand.

  “My lady, I can see how distressing all of this has been for you. Please allow me to make amends by escorting you back to the ballroom and leading you into the next dance.”

  Easing my hand away, I shook my head. “I thank you for the honor, Your Highness, but I am still a bit overcome. I do not feel equal to any more dancing.”

  “I perfectly understand, but I beg you to make the effort.” A slight frown creased his brow. “I do not know what passed between you and my brother. Ryland has many excellent traits but he can be rather impetuous and thoughtless at times. When you fled from him and he followed you to the balcony, I am afraid that caused a bit of a stir. I should hate for any of his careless actions to subject a lovely lady such as yourself to any unpleasant speculation or scandal. As his eldest brother, I feel it my duty to prevent that.”

  “And you think that my dancing with you will fix everything?” I asked.

  “I believe it will. I know that must sound ridiculously arrogant, but because I am the heir to the throne, many people set a foolish value upon my opinion, whether I merit it or not. My dancing with you will display to everyone that you are a lady worthy of respect and admiration and no one will dare speak a word against you.”

  I could not fault his logic, especially when he expressed himself in such a self-deprecating manner. I did not care what anyone here tonight might think of me. But any negative gossip about me might reflect badly on my entire family, spoiling Amy’s and Netta’s chances as well.

  “I would be pleased to dance with Your Highness. Thank you,” I said reluctantly.

  He gave me a warm smile. Tucking my hand in the crook of his arm, he escorted me back to the ballroom.

  The assembled company drew back respectfully as Florian led me to the center of the dance floor, but I was already regretting this decision. I might have done better to try to sneak back into the ballroom unnoticed. I was keenly aware of the curious looks cast in my direction, the whispers exchanged behind fans.

  Although my face burned bright red, I forced myself to hold my head up high. I scanned the sea of faces, looking for Horatio, wishing that he would step forward to claim the dance that should have already been his. If he was lost somewhere in that crowd, watching me, he must think that I had run completely prince-mad, kissing one royal brother and now pursuing the heir himself.

  My heart sank even further when the orchestra struck up the strains of a waltz. It was such an intimate dance. My heart gave a nervous skitter as Prince Florian drew me closer. Ryland had been on the verge of warning me about his brother. I wondered what he had intended to say and yet could I ever again believe anything he might tell me?

  Florian seemed to be the epitome of everything a prince should be, handsome, tall and broad shouldered. I always thought his long mane of hair a little ridiculous on a man, but I had to admit the golden sheen of his hair was rather pleasing when bound neatly back in a queue. With his hair drawn away from his face, it made his chiseled features appear more striking.

  He twirled me about the floor, one strong hand resting lightly upon my waist, the other firmly clasping mine. I was keenly aware of the envious stares directed at me by the other ladies who ignored their own partners as they ogled the prince. Those women would deem me mad if they knew what I was thinking, that I would rather be at home digging slug worms out of my garden.

  Florian smiled down at me, his blue eyes inviting me to melt in his arms, but in some odd way, that only made me tense. I stumbled along awkwardly, trying to keep pace with Florian’s graceful steps. I was doubly glad that I had not worn those ridiculous glass slippers Mal had given me. It was bad enough that I kept stepping on the prince’s toes with my soft, well-worn shoes. When I tried to apologize, Florian would have none of it.

  “Nonsense. You are as graceful as you are beautiful.”

  I pulled a wry face before I could stop myself. Unfortunately, the prince noticed.

  “Ah,” he said, “you are one of those rare ladies who does not care for compliments.”

  “I like them well enough when they are sincere.” I winced as the words fell out of my mouth. Mind your tongue, Ella, I could almost hear my stepmother admonishing me.

  I hastened to add, “Your Highness is very gallant, but I know I am not a graceful dancer.”

  “But you surely cannot deny that you are beautiful.”

  “I would rather be thought intelligent or brave, Your Highness. Beauty is far too fleeting and I have nothing but contempt for those vain creatures that spend hours admiring their reflection in the mirror.”

  “Such as you have been told that I am wont to d
o?”

  “Yes—I mean no, Your Highness!”

  It is impossible to mind one’s tongue and one’s dance steps at the same time. I was not succeeding well with either.

  “I have never heard anything but praise of Your Highness,” I lied.

  Florian chuckled. “Oh, come now. I wager that Ryland has told you many less than flattering things about me. He is fond of regaling anyone who will listen with tales about how vain and arrogant I am. I am sorry to say it, but my younger brother has always been jealous of me. Unfortunately, you witnessed that for yourself. Look at the unreasonable way he flew at me just because I asked to dance with you. The poor boy has never been the same since his tragic encounter with the dragon.” Florian gave a heavy sigh. “I will admit Ryland may be right. I can be rather vain. I like to admire myself in the surface of a pond as I trot past. A hazardous occupation, I know. I might well fall out of the saddle, but my horse always slows down, because he likes to admire his reflection too. He is rather vain as well.”

  Florian spoke solemnly enough, but when I glanced up at him, there was a teasing twinkle in his eye that coaxed a smile from me.

  “Now, there! I like that so much better than your serious face. Your smile is enchanting but I suppose I should not compliment you on that either.”

  “Unfortunately, Your Highness has already done so,” I pointed out. I added quickly, “Thank you. Your Highness is very kind.”

  “I would find you much kinder if you would relax and stop Your Highnessing me.”

  I silently congratulated myself as I made it through the next twirl without tripping. “I can hardly call you Florian. That would be most improper and—” I stopped just short of adding that the king had probably enacted some sort of petty law against it.

  The prince smiled. “I cannot blame you for not wanting to use my name. I have never liked it myself.”

  “I positively loathe mine, but happily my family has always called me Ella.”

  “Bella. Yes, I like that. It suits you.”

  I realized that because of the noise in the ballroom, the prince had misheard me, but I did not trouble to correct him.

  “Alas, my family has a nickname for me as well. My younger brothers are fond of calling me Florrie.”

  “And you allow them to do that without cracking their heads?”

  The prince looked startled and then he flung back his head and laughed. “I can see you possess a bit of a violent streak, Bella. I like that in a girl,” he murmured, drawing me a little closer.

  Although I smiled, I experienced a twinge of unease. Florian was more amusing and charming than I had ever expected him to be. Too charming perhaps? There were moments when I caught a look of calculation in his eyes, as though he was assessing his impact on me.

  I try to be fair when judging anyone. I was aware that much of my bad opinion of Florian originated from stories Ryland had told me in his guise as Harper. I no longer trusted Ryland. But I didn’t really trust Florian either. I strongly suspected that all of these Helavalerian princes were well versed in the arts of charming deceit.

  When the last strains of the waltz sounded, I suppressed a sigh of relief as I peeled myself from Florian’s embrace. He seemed reluctant to release me.

  “I can see why my brother wanted to keep you all to himself,” Florian said. “But I must not be as selfish as Ryland. Alas, as the heir to the throne, I am far too burdened by my sense of duty. I cannot neglect my other guests no matter how badly I yearn to remain at your side.” The prince bowed and raised my hand, looking intently into my eyes as he kissed my fingertips.

  Any other girl in my position would have been thrilled by the gesture. I could only wonder how many times Florian had practiced it.

  “Until we meet again, my lovely Bella,” he murmured.

  Yes, when fairyland freezes over, I thought. I gave him a noncommittal smile, managing not to roll my eyes until after he had gone.

  I wriggled my toes inside my slippers and winced. My comfortable dancing shoes had grown perhaps a little too well worn. They were more stretched and loose than I remembered. The left one was starting to rub a blister on my heel. I could have happily spent the rest of the ball not dancing with anyone unless it was Commander Crushington.

  But the prince had hardly left my side when I was besieged by at least a dozen men clamoring to lead me into the next dance. Unfortunately, not one of them was the man I longed to see. Where was Horatio? He had intimated to me that his main reason for attending the ball was because I would be there. Had I disappointed him so much that he had left? That might be for the best. I had worried about my ability to slip away and steal the orb under his watchful gaze.

  If he was gone, that might make my daunting task somewhat easier. But the thought that he might have given up on me and gone home caused my heart to sink. I gritted my teeth in a polite smile as I tried to fend off this pack of eager gentlemen. What I really wanted to do was seize one of the ornamental swords from the wall and drive them back.

  Prince Florian had not exaggerated the effect his dancing with me would have. He might as well have taken the royal seal and stamped “approved” on my forehead. When I caught a glimpse of Amy, I saw that her dance with the prince had had a similar effect. The difference was that my sister was enjoying her surge of popularity.

  I was dismayed to note that Amy appeared flushed with her success and far too animated. She swilled a glass of wine as if it was water, then flirted excessively, fluttering her fan at her court of admirers. Or rather I should say my fan. Amy had clearly been in my room, borrowing things without my permission again. I was far more concerned about her present behavior. Somehow she had removed the lace from her bodice, exposing an alarming amount of décolletage much to the delight of the twin princes, who were admiring the view.

  The young princes crowded close to Amy. Dall—or was it Dashiel—stealing his arm about her waist while the other twin whispered something into my sister’s ear that caused her to giggle loudly.

  Where was Em? Usually she chaperoned her daughters with great care. Why was my stepmother not doing something to curb Amy’s impetuous behavior? I looked around, but I could not find Imelda anywhere.

  Escaping from my own pack of admirers, I headed in Amy’s direction. But I was too late. By the time I reached her, one of the twins had escorted her into the set forming for the next dance. I could hardly snatch my sister from the prince and drag her aside for a stern lecture without causing a scene.

  I was so frustrated and distracted that I accepted an offer to dance without thinking. The man who claimed my hand was yet another of the royal brothers, the persistently cheerful Prince Kendrick. As he led me to find a place in one of the sets, I finally spotted Horatio. He had not gone home after all.

  My spirits lifted only to plummet when I realized he was leading a girl forward to dance. I could not blame him for that. After I had proved to be so unreliable, he had every right to dance with someone else. I fear I still would have been jealous except for the partner Horatio had chosen.

  I thought I recognized her. The girl was from Midtown, one of the butcher’s daughters, I believed. Her mustard-colored gown was truly hideous and only accented the flaws of her plump, pear-shaped figure. Carrot-red hair framed a youthful face suffering from an attack of blotchy red spots.

  I had little doubt that this poor girl would have spent the entire ball huddled in a chair in the corner, wistfully watching everyone else dance and feeling miserable. Certainly not one of these so-called charming princes would have ever bothered to ask for her hand.

  I knew Horatio well enough to guess how carefully he would have framed his invitation. He would not have made her feel as though he was merely being kind or pitied her. No, he would have been solemnly gallant, convincing her that she was favoring him.

  Small wonder that shy girl was gazing up at Horatio so adoringly. I tried to steer Prince Kendrick toward the same set. If I could not dance with Horatio myself, as we circled thro
ugh the movements and changed partners, I might at least be able to touch his hand. Maybe I could even find a moment to whisper how sorry I was, try to explain away that foolish kiss.

  But Horatio’s set already had eight couples. The other sets were filling rapidly as well. Prince Kendrick and I did not find an opening until we were completely on the opposite side of the ballroom.

  The prince and I faced each other as the orchestra struck up the music. He bowed and I curtsied. The promenade was a slow and formal dance. It consisted of a lot of stepping forward, stepping back, holding hands, circling, switching partners with the couple next to you, more circling, returning to your own partner, repeating the same steps all over again as you moved farther down the line. A simple dance, it did not require much by way of concentration, but it was interminably long, lasting nearly twenty minutes.

  Although Prince Kendrick seemed to be an amiable young man, he was not a scintillating conversationalist, most of his remarks either dealing with the fine spring weather or how splendid the ball was. He continued to beam at me throughout the dance. When someone smiles at you that much, you feel peculiarly obliged to smile back. We were not even halfway through the dance before my face muscles began to ache and I could feel the blister on my left heel getting worse.

  I could not run away from another prince, but I was seriously considering faking a sprained ankle when it occurred to me that I might be wasting an opportunity to learn more about the royal family. Kendrick was far too young to know anything about the king and his dealings with my parents, but he could provide me with a different perspective regarding his brothers.

  The next time the movement of the dance drew us closer, I said, “I had the honor of dancing the waltz with your oldest brother.”

  “Oh yes, Florian. He’s a very good dancer.” Kendrick grinned. “Such a splendid fellow. All the girls are quite mad for him.”