by Cora Caraway
“It’s your party,” says Marc. “Let loose a little!”
“Just one more,” Natalia purrs for the fifth time.
Now fire breathers are roaming through the crowd, and I really need to be able to maintain my balance. I’m torn between the spouting flames and the mesmerizing acrobats who have set up on stage. A pair of players performs contortions while another flips on a small trampoline. A trio swings from a trapeze, two of the fliers catching their companion with their feet.
People start pushing tables and chairs toward the walls, forming a dance floor in the center of the room. Everyone kicks off their shoes and mobs the floor. I place my shoes carefully in a corner. They’re Louboutins, and I don’t want to lose them.
Damon pulls me into a dance. This is light years from a stately waltz. It’s passionate, animal. I never could have imagined my prince dancing like this, running his hands over my hips and holding me close to him. I love that he’s getting wild in his finest suit, and I pull him toward me by his tie.
Just as I’m about to kiss him, someone steals me away. It’s Gabe. I can’t stay mad at him for long. Besides, I’ll see Damon again soon. Marc has promised us the honeymoon suite, and I plan to make good use of it tonight.
I dance with Nic, Rashad, even Eris. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, but I feel lighter here, like I could fly through the air myself. I think the distance from the palace is doing me good. Until I got away, I didn’t realize how desperately I needed a break from planning a huge wedding and from the issues Damon and I have been having. Thank god for Marc and Natalia. They’ve given me a chance to catch my breath.
Stumbling from the dance floor, I lean against the wall. I’m just going to stay here until the room stops spinning.
“Are you having a good time?” Marc asks.
“How could I not?” I gesture at our surroundings, a little too wildly. “You guys did a great job with all of this. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Grace. You’re really good for Damon. I’m glad you’re going to be joining our family.”
I throw my arms around him, a little teary-eyed. “I’m so happy to be getting a brother,” I say into his shirt, barely caring if he can understand me.
He pats me on the shoulder, then steers me toward a chair.
“Hey,” Gabe says. “Isn’t that Marc?”
I nod, watching as he goes to talk to Damon. “He’s going to be my brother.”
“Don’t we hate him?”
Letting out a heavy sigh, I set down my glass too hard. “He’s a good man. Don’t you see this party he’s thrown for me?”
“If you say so.” Gabe moves my half-empty glass out of reach. “I think you’ve probably had enough party for one night.”
I cross my arms. “It’s my party.”
“All right. Just don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning.” He kisses the top of my head. “Rashad and I are going to take advantage of the free rooms. Can you take care of yourself?”
I let out a huge hiccup.
“Okay … I think I’ll have Nic and Eris look after you. Where’d they get to?” Gabe turns to find Eris dancing on top of the bar. “Maybe I’ll just ask Nic. You stay safe.”
“You stay…” I try to think up something witty, but my brain feels like molasses, and Gabe is already gone.
Damon is deep in conversation with a group of people. I admire how he’s captured their attention so completely, and how he can make them laugh or gasp almost at will. He cuts such a fine line in his suit, and I can see why anyone would be drawn to him. But he doesn’t want anyone, as he’s told me so many times. He wants me. That knowledge makes me brim with pride.
I want to go to him, to put my arm on his and show the world that he’s mine, and no one else’s. I want to see the gleam in his eye as he turns to share a joke with only me. But he’s too far away, and my legs feel too wobbly. I’ll have to content myself with admiring him from afar.
“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” Natalia alights on the chair next to mine.
“Mmm.” I’m afraid to say more. Lately, the words emerging from my mouth have been terribly inelegant.
“I hope you’re not upset with me.” Natalia folds her hands in her lap. “I know I haven’t been so kind in the past. Any woman would love to have Damon, and I thought he was the one for me. Of course, that doesn’t excuse my behavior.” She looks into my eyes. “I’m so glad you came along, though. I think I’ve finally found the man for me.”
“Well, congratulations!” I tap my glass against hers. “I’m glad we’ve both found someone.”
“Will you celebrate with me?” Natalia catches the attention of a server.
More drinks. My guts clench at the very idea.
She sets two glasses before us, both filled to the brim. Taking one, she raises it to me. “To love!”
I guess one more can’t hurt. And I don’t want to rebuff her, just when we’re getting along so well. Clinking my glass against hers, I take a long drink.
“Your parents must be so pleased,” Natalia says. “Their daughter about to get married, and to a prince to boot.”
I take another sip, trying to think of a diplomatic response. “We don’t have the best relationship.”
“You mean you haven’t told them?” She looks at me in horror.
“They can find out from the tabloids, if they care. Trust me, you don’t want my parents anywhere near the palace.”
“I’m so sorry, Grace.” Natalia sighs. “It’s horrible when people let you down. I know from experience. But you have a new family now. A royal family.”
She reaches across the table to put her hand over mine. “Let me know if you need help with anything. I want you to have the wedding you deserve.”
“That’s very kind of you.” I’m filled with warmth, and it’s not all from the alcohol. It’s nice to know that people can always surprise you in the best of ways. Why were we so at odds before? Did we simply get off on the wrong foot? I hope tonight can remedy that. It would be nice to have a friend, especially one who understands the royal world as well as she does.
Another group takes the stage. I think it’s a magic act, but at this point I’m not too sure of anything. Natalia makes me laugh with outrageous comments about how she thinks one of the servers is in love with me but just afraid to show it.
Damon finds his way back to me, laying his head on my shoulder. After a few moments, I hear snores. Natalia waves Marc down, and he recruits some friends to take Damon to the suite. I guess nothing much will be happening tonight. I should be upset, but I can’t help giggling. The idea of a prince needing to be carried to bed is just too silly.
“Everything okay?” Natalia asks.
I try to stifle my laughter. “It’s just … What if we left a pea under his mattress?” I break into hysterical giggles.
“All right. I think it’s time for you to go to bed too.” She scans the room. “Nic? Do you think you could help me with Grace?”
It takes some time for us to get our act together. The bodyguard insists on finishing his slice of cake, and I won’t let him escort me from the room until he retrieves my shoes from their corner. With Nic supporting me, we manage to make it to the elevators. As we ascend, I regret that we chose to ride the glass ones. My stomach wants to rebel at the sight of the floor vanishing so rapidly.
“Here we are.” Natalia directs Nic down a hall, swiping a card to get into a room. My eyelids are feeling heavy. This must be what Damon was feeling. At least I’ll get to see him behind this door.
Natalia ushers us in, flicking on a light. The bed is immaculate, and Damon is nowhere to be seen. I frown. Maybe he’s in the bathroom?
“Get her in bed, will you?” Natalia asks.
Nic crosses the room with me, stumbling as he leans to set me on the bed. It seems he isn’t as sober as he looks.
“Make sure Grace is comfortable.” With that, Natalia leaves, shutting the door behind her.
Nic and I exchange a glance,
confused.
“This isn’t the right room,” Nic says thickly. “I insisted on inspecting the suite.” With some difficulty, he lurches toward the door.
He jiggles the handle. “It’s jammed.”
My head is spinning. Where is my prince? Did he at least make it to our suite? And if he’s in the right place, then where am I?
“What’s happening, Nic?”
“I don’t know.” He sits beside me, and the bed creaks under his weight. He puts his head in his hands. “We may have to figure it out tomorrow.”
“Are you very tired?” I ask.
“And very drunk.”
“I think I’m okay.” My lie is immediately apparent, as tears start to roll down my face. Where is Damon? Will he be all right without either of us there for him?
“There, there.” Nic runs a calloused thumb under my eye, wiping away the tears. “We’ll sort this out tomorrow.”
I look at the bodyguard, and calm washes over me. Nic is here. I’ll be all right. But there’s something crucial I have to do. I lean toward his lips, and that’s the last thing I remember before everything goes dark.
5
The sun slips through a crack in the blinds, right into my eyes. I groan, throwing an arm over my face. Why does the light feel like a thousand tiny daggers? Why is my head pounding, and why is my mouth so dry? Where am I, and why did I just have the strangest dream about Nic?
Nic. I sit bolt upright. Bad idea. My head feels like it’s splitting open. What happened last night, besides me drinking a river’s worth of alcohol?
The shower is running in the bathroom. I hope to god that I had a really weird dream last night, and that Damon will soon emerge with a towel wrapped around his waist.
My pants lie beside the bed, crumpled in a heap. I pull them on as quickly as I can without exacerbating my headache. There’s another pair of pants on the floor, though it’s curled into a neat roll. Please let those be Damon’s pants.
The water stops. I sit on the bed, my heart pounding. Please let it be Damon. Please. Please.
Slowly, the door creaks open.
And then Nic stands there, dripping on the carpet.
I bury my face in my hands.
“You’re awake then,” he says gruffly.
Refusing to look at him, I will him to disappear. What the fuck have I done?
“If it’s any consolation, I woke up on the floor.”
“It’s not any fucking consolation.” I want to scream it at him, but the words come out as a mangled whisper. “Anything could have happened before you went to sleep.” I look up at him. “You remember though, don’t you? You know what happened last night.”
He gazes down at the carpet, watching the spot that forms from his dripping legs. “I wish.”
“Nic, you have to tell me what happened.”
“I would if I could.” His eyes are haunted. “Let me get dressed, I can’t think like this.”
I turn away as he towels off and retrieves his clothes. “What were you wearing when you woke up?”
“Everything but my pants. You?”
“Same.” I dig my nails into my palms, wondering if the pain can atone for unknown sins. All I want to know is what happened here last night. It’s not fair. I was here the whole time. I should at least know if I’m guilty or not.
I do remember Nic carrying me here. The door not working. And I remember his lips. Not their feel or their taste, but that’s the last image I can recall. Why would I remember that? My stomach turns over. I didn’t do anything, did I? I’ve never done more than kiss Damon, so why would I go further with Nic?
The bed feels like it’s spinning. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
Nic brings a trashcan to me. I let him set it at my feet. I don’t want to touch anything that he has, but I have no choice. Hugging the trashcan on my lap, I lean over it. I manage a few dry heaves, but nothing more. Moaning, I slump onto the bed.
“We should get back to the palace,” Nic says. “You need something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Some water, then. You need to take care of yourself, Grace.”
“Like you need to take care of Damon?”
There’s a cold silence. “It’s my job to protect Damon. I’d never do anything to hurt him.”
“Then tell me what we did last night,” I whisper.
He closes his eyes tightly, as if the very question causes him pain. “I’ll try to remember. If I can recall something, anything, I’ll let you know. I promise.”
Nic’s phone buzzes insistently, and he flips it open. He winces at the message. “Damon heard there was a room mix-up. He’s waiting for us in the lobby.”
The bodyguard walks to the door, and tentatively tests the handle. It’s almost like he doesn’t want it to open. Perversely, the door swings open easily. Nic frowns. “Wasn’t it stuck last night?”
“I don’t know,” I snap. Of the things I’d like to remember from last night, the state of the door isn’t high on my list.
Once we gather our things, Nic walks me to the elevators. Far below, on the lobby floor, I can see Damon waiting for us.
“What are we going to tell him?” Nic asks.
“Nothing. Not until we remember what happened.”
“What if we never do?”
I don’t have an answer to that.
The ride seems to last forever. I find myself hoping that the elevator will grind to a halt, and trap us for a few hours. It would be hell to hang high over the lobby, but it would delay seeing the disappointment on Damon’s face. I’m not sure I can bear it, and I can’t even tell him what he should be upset about. I twirl my rings around my fingers, wondering if he’s going to ask me to return them.
The elevator comes to a smooth stop on the lobby floor, and the doors slide open. There’s no avoiding Damon now. He leans against the front desk, and I can’t tell if his carefree posture is genuine or an attempt to mask his anger.
The prince stands upright when we step off the elevator. His expression is unreadable, but when I come within a few steps he breaks into a wide grin.
“There you are.” Wrapping me in his arms, he twirls me around. “Natalia told me there’d been a room mix-up. Thanks for looking out for her, Nic.”
“Of course, Highness.” Nic bows. “I think I’ll hail a cab, unless you’d like me to escort you home?”
“I think we can manage, Nic,” Damon says. “We’ll see you back at the palace.”
Bowing again, Nic takes his leave. Have I ever seen him bow to the prince before? I hope Damon won’t get suspicious. I’m a little jealous that Nic can distance himself from this mess so easily. I’m going to be weighed down with guilt every second I’m with Damon. I wonder if it ever gets easier.
Damon walks me out the front door, to where the canary-yellow car waits. “Did you have a good night?”
“As far as I can remember.” It’s the truth, at least.
Damon laughs as he gets behind the wheel. “I don’t know when I last partied like that. Natalia and Marc should be commended.”
We rocket down the road, at one point passing a pair of police cars. One of the officers waves at Damon.
The prince shifts to a higher gear. “Do you want to go to London again today? The weather should be beautiful again.”
“Can we please stay here? I don’t think a jet would help my headache.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, intent on the road. “You didn’t like Lady Fortuna’s, did you?”
“I really appreciate you taking me there. I’m just not sure I can go through all that effort again. Not today, anyway.”
We come to a stoplight. The idling car rumbles impatiently.
“Would you like to try something closer to home?” Damon asks.
“If that’s all right with you.” If Eris will forgive us, I’d like to ask for her help. I’ve already seen the magic she can work.
At the green light, the car leaps forward with a sn
arl. “I’ll see what I can arrange,” Damon says.
He puts the car through its paces, the engine noise drowning out the possibility of conversation. I hope he’s not mad at me over choosing a dress. How would he handle the news that Nic and I have no clue what happened in our room last night?
We drive through the iron gates and up to the palace. A woman waits on the stairs. I jolt forward as Damon stops the car quite ungracefully. “Sarina?”
The queen stands on the steps, smiling serenely. “I thought I might talk with Grace.”
A discussion with Damon’s stepmother isn’t what I had in mind for this morning. I was planning to sleep off my hangover. I look over at Damon, who nudges me. It seems I don’t have much choice.
I step from the car. “I’d love to, Majesty.”
“Splendid.” Sarina walks up the stairs, motioning for me to follow.
Pleading with my eyes, I ask Damon to save me. He shrugs as if to say that he can’t help me here, and slowly drives toward the garages.
Taking a deep breath and hoping I won’t embarrass myself, I trail the queen. She leads me down a passage I’ve never seen before. The walls are lined with rich hangings, depicting castles and kings. She pushes open a door at the end of the hall.
Sarina crosses the room to pull back the curtains. Morning light illuminates bolts of shining white fabric. “A little bird told me that you’ve been having dress troubles.”
“That’s correct, Majesty.” It better not have been Damon. I know I rejected a second trip to London, but the idea of playing dress up with his stepmother is far worse. The queen I know has always been chilly toward me, so this helpful version is rather disconcerting.
I start when I realize that we’re not alone in the room. A woman stands in the corner, her brows thick and her eyes hooded. She bows stiffly when she catches my eye.
“Is this what I have to work with?” she asks the queen.
Sarina nods. “Grace, this is Valda, my dressmaker. She’s the best. I trust my finest occasions to her, and she’s never failed me. I’m leaving you in very capable hands.” With that, she sweeps from the room. I barely have time to curtsy before she’s gone.
