I watched them go with some concern. The waltz seemed very intimate and I had never quite understood the twins’ instructions. How, for instance, did the couple know to turn the same way? I was still stressing about this not-so-minor detail when I felt an arm slip around my waist.
“Don’t worry, Alyssa, I’m an excellent dancer,” grinned Felix and suddenly we, too, were swept into the dance. I gripped his hand tightly and looked down at my feet, determined not to step on him.
“It is customary to look at your partner while you dance,” said Felix, “or at least to stare over their shoulder.” When I looked up, he added, “I think you’ll find it’s actually easier if you try not to think about your feet.”
I doubted this could be true but as the dance progressed I was surprised to find that he was right. His firm grip steered me around the room and I realised with delight that I wasn’t disgracing myself at all. It helped that Felix was both a charming dancer and an amusing conversationalist. He kept me distracted and even forbore to comment the one time I did step on his foot.
While I danced I could forget about the coming announcement and my subsequent departure from the palace. It was quickly apparent that, like the palace itself, a ball lived up to its fairy tale reputation.
After Felix, I danced with Nate, then Rivers and then Felix again. Whenever I caught a glimpse of Max, twirling across the dance floor with another girl in his arms, I couldn’t quite suppress a pang of longing. But with iron self-control I was able to prevent myself from watching for him and thus reduced these pangs to the three or four times that we passed on the dance floor. Felix caught the direction of my look on one of these occasions and laughed.
“Max had better watch out,” he said, “he’s going to lose his reputation as the best dancer at court if he keeps watching us instead of his steps. Maybe he knows it’s just a matter of time until the court recognises my superior grace and style.”
To demonstrate this claim, Felix picked me up by the waist and spun me around in time to the music. When my feet were safely back on the ground, I risked another quick glance at Max and was surprised to see a sour expression on his face. Apparently he didn’t approve of Felix’s attempts to upstage him.
After a short break for refreshments, I even danced with Allen. This time I was the one doing the distracting and by the end of the dance I almost had him talking fluently and looking at my face instead of his shoes. He was getting warmed up on an exposition on one of my favourite authors when the arrival of the prince at his elbow reduced him back to stammering half-sentences.
“Will you dance with me, Alyssa?” Max asked and I shivered at the look in his eyes. The old intensity was back, completely replacing the light friendliness he had maintained since the welcome reception.
I nodded, suddenly shy myself, and felt a thrill when the orchestra struck up another waltz. He took my hand in his and put his other hand around my waist. As we swept into the dance I forgot all about concentrating on my feet. The rest of the ballroom seemed to fade away compared to the warmth of Max’s embrace. It felt nothing like being held by Felix.
Neither of us said anything and I wondered if Max also felt the intensity of the moment. I was afraid that my emotions were transparent and that he could read my heart in my eyes.
I wished the song would keep playing forever but instead it ended. When the music stopped I felt as if I were waking from a particularly vivid dream. It took me a moment to remember where I was and what was going on. But when reality returned it did so with a crash.
The king had begun his farewell speech to Princess Marie and I looked at Max in anguish. My total absorption in the dance had pushed the dreaded announcement from my mind. I waited for him to leave my side and go to the king. He didn’t move.
“Shouldn’t you be over there with your father and the princess?” I asked.
Max shook his head but said nothing, his gaze fixed on his father. I stared at him in wonder and felt a bubble of hope fill my stomach.
The king finished his speech and no engagement was mentioned. The princess followed with a speech that was gracious and friendly and again there was no mention of an engagement. Toasts were made and then the king and queen withdrew – leaving the younger members of court to continue dancing.
“But… I don’t understand?” I said to Max.
“Mother didn’t feel she was the right one,” said Max quietly. “The next delegation comes in a month, though, so it’s only a small reprieve.” He broke off and looked across the ballroom.
I followed his eyes and everywhere I looked I saw small knots of people discussing the lack of engagement in whispers. Several members of court had begun to move in our direction but Felix and Nate appeared from nowhere to flank Max like guards. The people who had been coming towards us suddenly swerved off in different directions.
On the far side of the ballroom I saw that the Northhelm delegation had surrounded Princess Marie in a similar manner. I wondered if she felt disappointed about returning home unengaged or if she felt the same relief Max seemed to feel. It was impossible to tell her feelings from her expression or bearing. I was once again impressed – she was born to be a diplomat in more ways than one.
I suddenly wanted to speak to her without the engagement lurking in my mind. I left the boys to their conversation and made my way around the dance floor to where she stood. She greeted my approach with a smile which was a relief.
“I’m sorry you’re going home tomorrow,” I said.
“I am sorry, also,” she said in her strong voice. “While I miss my home there is a light-heartedness here which I like. Northhelm is a good kingdom but we are rather serious.” She paused for a moment. “Not that I would replace virtue with fun,” she assured me, “but Arcadia has shown me there can be room for both.”
“Your friends Felix and Nate are examples of this,” she said with a smile. “And your prince.”
I wondered again how she felt about remaining unengaged.
Seemingly in answer to my thoughts she said, “Northhelm would have welcomed the alliance with Arcadia. And your Maximilian is both handsome and kind. But…” She paused for so long I thought she intended to keep her reservations a secret.
“But I am glad as well,” she finally said with a warm smile. “I feel that we could be friends, Alyssa, and I do not steal my friends’ men. Do you think we could write to one another, when I return home?”
“I…I… yes, of course,” I stuttered, too shocked to think of a more coherent answer. Princess Marie seemed to find my response amusing because she gave a low chuckle.
“You must thank him for me, by the way. His parting words to me were kind. I will certainly treasure his gift. Although we are not to be allied through marriage, I hope that it will be a sign of unity between our kingdoms.”
I looked at her enquiringly, struggling to concentrate on what she was saying after her previous words.
“He gave me a book,” she explained, “on the similarities and differences between Arcadian and Northhelm customs and traditions. It is a very pretty book and he included a very gracious inscription in the front.” She laughed again quietly. “It is perhaps fortunate that I am more familiar with its contents than he is.”
I grimaced at her words, wondering how Max had transgressed in the matter of Northhelm customs. But my concern didn’t last long before it was swallowed by the other emotions swirling through me.
“I will be very interested to see how it all plays out,” she said. “You must be sure to write me.”
She then wished me a warm goodnight and swept her delegation out of the ballroom.
Helena descended on me as soon as they were gone and I was forced to put my thoughts aside and to focus on the rest of the ball.
But that night as I lay in bed I considered her words from every angle. It was flattering that she wanted to be friends. But her comments about Max and me were frightening.
For one thing, it was terrifying to think that my feeling
s were on such open display that she had seen them after only two weeks. And, for another, the idea that Max belonged to me was an intoxication I could not allow myself to indulge.
I tossed and turned for hours and was glad that I had the ball as a convenient excuse for the shadows under my eyes the next morning.
Chapter 21
My efforts at resisting intoxication turned out to be futile. Marie’s words, combined with the departure of the foreign delegation, induced such a heady release that I forgot all about the other delegations. Instead I threw myself headlong into the activities of the court.
The rate of entertainments slowed slightly from the mad frenzy of the previous two weeks but our days were still full of activities, outings and parties. I accompanied Lily and Sophie on many afternoon excursions, including some that were put on solely for the entertainment of the noble children.
I was delighted to see the twins’ friendship with Georgiana growing and even more delighted to see them take their place amongst the children. Watching the princesses at work, I had little doubt that they would be queening it over their own miniature court before long. Once or twice Lily saw me watching them and gave me a wink that reminded me of Sophie’s words from weeks ago. We are princesses, you know, she had said. Whatever amazement I felt then had completely faded away. There could be no doubt now that their birthright included more than just golden hair and piercing blue eyes.
In the evenings I went to parties without the twins. I was becoming comfortable amongst the nobles and while my inner circle of friends didn’t change, I had a growing circle of friendly acquaintances. Lady Marissa had given me a temporary ceasefire so she could obsess over Princess Marie. While the ceasefire was over now, it had given me the chance to prove myself to everyone except her closest circle.
With Felix, Nate and Beth by my side I could laugh at Lady Marissa’s snide comments and offensive slights. And when Max was around she ignored me completely. For this I had him to thank. He had responded to her insults with such chilling severity that she no longer dared to attack me in his presence.
Unfortunately, she usually made up for this restraint the next time I saw her. And while I laughed it off at the time, I spent many nights muttering scathing rejoinders into my pillow. Goose feathers might have offered a less satisfying target than Lady Marissa herself, but they still afforded me some relief.
Whenever I felt tempted to utter one of these retorts to her face, I reminded myself that although the nobles accepted me, I wasn’t really one of them. While I showed restraint, the other nobles were supportive. If I showed up one of their own, it was hard to know how they would react. I couldn’t afford to make any more enemies than I already had.
The next time Helena invited me to one of her parties, I asked permission to bring along some friends. When I turned up with Max I could almost feel the restraint his presence brought and wondered if I had done the wrong thing. I fretted that it would be years before I truly understood all the social dynamics of court.
But before half the evening had gone, the conversations had resumed their usual lively tone. Max showed himself to be eager to learn and willing to engage in debate without taking offense. The nobles that the baron and baroness gathered around them couldn’t help but respond. I felt proud that I had been the one to show them a new side to their prince.
Felix and Nate had also decided to tag along which gave me some qualms. But after that first evening I felt guilty for having doubted their ability to hold intelligent, serious conversations. All three of them quickly became regulars at the Lilton Manor.
For four weeks I threw myself into unchecked merriment and there was very little to mar my happiness. Once again I allowed myself to pretend that this life, and more importantly Max, were mine to keep. The court seemed to have accepted me as some sort of less royal member of the royal family and no one even looked surprised anymore when they heard me calling the prince ‘Max’ or heard us laughing over some in-joke.
There were only two things that concerned me during those halcyon days. One was the growing coldness between Max and Felix. Both boys retained their usual attitudes towards Nate and me but towards each other they began to behave with icy politeness. Anyone meeting them for the first time would conclude that they barely tolerated one another. I begged each of them in turn to tell me what was wrong but they would only shrug and change the subject.
The other discomfort was a nagging sense of guilt that I was neglecting my actual family in pursuit of my adopted one. My visits to the Blue Arrow had stopped and several times Harrison had come to the palace to ask for me, only to be told I was out on some excursion of pleasure.
Inevitably, reality returned with a jolt. It happened when King Henry announced at breakfast that our protocol lessons would be resuming the next morning, this time with a focus on Lanoverian customs.
Max asked me if I wanted to join him in the library for a little pre-reading but the sudden reminder of the approaching delegation made it too painful to be around him. Instead I decided to ride down to the Blue Arrow.
As I rode through the streets I felt more and more stupid. If my thoughtless selfishness had hurt my aunt and cousin I had no one to blame but myself. I flushed with embarrassment at what my parents would think if my aunt wrote to them and described my behaviour.
And worst of all, my selfishness had been without purpose. I was sure that I would now be feeling a great deal more satisfied and a great deal less heartbroken if I had thought of something other than my own heedless pleasure in the last four weeks.
By the time I turned into the yard of the Blue Arrow I was prepared to accept any level of rejection from my aunt and cousin with humility.
“Alyssa!” Harrison’s enthusiastic hug was the last thing I expected but I received it with pleasure.
“I’m so sorry it’s been so long,” I apologised into his chest, “and I’m sorry I didn’t come see you after you came up to visit me.”
“That’s fine, Alyssa. Everybody’s saying the court hasn’t been this busy for years. I only wanted to check that you were alright anyway.”
His kindness broke me down more thoroughly than recriminations and I began to cry.
Harrison ushered me into his sitting room and a moment later his mother appeared. I was handed off to her with relief (both on my part and my cousin’s) and she turned out to be nearly as comforting as my own mother would have been.
When I was finally able to dry my eyes, I apologised – both for my absence and my tears. “Don’t be foolish,” said Aunt Corilyn, patting my hand.
“It’s just that I know better,” I said, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I just got caught up in the whirl of it all.”
“Small wonder,” replied my aunt. “I don’t forget, even if you do, that you’re only seventeen. Wisdom comes with age, my dear, and you’ll have it soon enough. Which reminds me – it’s your eighteenth birthday in a week. Harrison and I were wondering if you’d like to come have a quiet dinner with us – although we’ll understand if you’d rather celebrate with your friends up at the palace.”
“No,” I shook my head, “I would love to have dinner with you. Birthdays are for family.” And I can always have lunch with my friends, I thought.
My aunt smiled warmly and began to enquire about what dishes I would like. We were interrupted by a serving maid who bobbed a polite curtsey and then launched into an apologetic recital.
“The Turners in the second room have asked for their lunch on a tray. When Martha went up she found that they’re sick too. The doctor was still here seeing the Hawthorns but now some of the other guests are talking about checking out early.”
My aunt heaved herself to her feet with a sigh. “Ah well,” she said, “the last thing we need is a fever outbreak at the inn so it might be for the best if they took themselves off. I’ll come and talk to them.” She turned back to me. “And best you be taking yourself off, too, Alyssa. We’ll see you on your birthday unless I send w
ord telling you to stay away.”
I embraced her and returned to the palace, buoyed by the easy forgiveness of my family. The good cry had also helped and I was able to meet Max at dinner with my usual calm.
Lanover protocol turned out to be much more complex than that of either Northhelm or Arcadia and with only three days until the arrival of the Lanoverian delegation, the four of us were pushed hard. We each had to learn a different series of genuflections and formal greetings based on our own rank and the rank of each of the delegation members. Their table manners were also much more formal than our own and we spent hours practicing the correct way to eat everything from soup to pudding.
After the first hour of lessons each morning, a dull ache began behind my temples and it only got worse as the day progressed. The endless curtsies left me feeling dizzy and my sleep no longer felt refreshing. I found myself desperately wanting this royal visit to be over – regardless of the outcome. I wasn’t sure my mind or body could take this strain for long.
Princess Celeste was also coming by sea and once again Lily, Sophie and I were excluded from the dockside welcome. This time I stayed at the palace with the twins, revising our etiquette lessons. I would have sneaked the girls down to watch the royal arrival through one of the first floor windows but the king had expressly forbidden it.
“I won’t have you girls peeking and spying,” he had warned, “it isn’t dignified.” The restriction seemed unnecessarily harsh to me but Lily and Sophie were used to being told their desired behaviour was unbefitting a princess.
By the time the maids arrived to help with our dresses and hair for the welcome reception, my headache was back and throbbing even worse than on the previous days. Finally it got so bad I couldn’t bear it any longer. I wondered if Max would think less of me and then remembered that he already knew about my sensitivity to pain.
“I’m sorry girls,” I told the princesses, “I have a terrible headache – it’s making me feel quite sick. I’m not going to be able to come down with you.”
The Princess Companion: A Retelling of The Princess and the Pea (The Four Kingdoms Book 1) Page 19
