by Tate James
“That's all of them,” Zan announced some time later. “I hope you all paid very close attention because I will not go through them again. For your test, three dignitaries will be chosen at random for you to 'greet,' but I suggest you brush up on all of the ones I've introduced you to so far. You have two hours.”
Around me, girls hurried into motion, rushing into the rows upon rows of books within the royal library. No doubt they were all heading for the section containing facts and information about all of the surrounding kingdoms—it was what I'd do if I didn’t have more pressing matters on my mind. Memorizing just a handful of geographic facts was a hell of a lot smarter, and a better use of time, than something personal to each dignitary, like what their favorite dog was called.
“Not in a hurry, Lady Callaluna?” Zan asked in a somewhat mocking tone when I was the last one left seated. “Don't tell me you already know all of these faces? You can't possibly get top marks in both Lee’s and Ty's classes and then also know every important person discussed today.” Despite his almost condescending tone, his face looked intrigued. Like he hoped I could kick this class’s butt.
Giving him a tight smile, I brushed my somewhat wild blonde hair over my shoulder and stood from my chair. “Not at all, Zan. Just taking a moment to collect my thoughts and consider the best way to attack the challenge. Is there an index section, by any chance? To save me from wandering aimlessly through the shelves.”
A slow grin spread across his lips, and he gave me a small nod. “Very good start,” he murmured, and I hadn’t failed to notice not one other girl had paused to consider an index. Luckily for me, I'd spent a good deal of time in the Lakehaven public library when I was growing up—not just learning to read, but because it was the warmest place to be during winter when you truly had no home or warm clothing.
Zan showed me the low stack of small drawers that contained index cards for every book in the royal library. The sheer number of drawers almost made my eyeballs burst from my head as, at a glance, there had to be ten times as many drawers as the public library. Still, this was the palace, and if there was one thing I was learning it was that the royals were selfish bastards.
“Thank you.” I dismissed him with a tight smile, but waited for him to leave my line of sight before going to the drawer I had in mind. Unlike my competitors, I was unconcerned with learning fun facts about Maledonia or Carpresney. There was another aspect of the test that had my stomach knotted up and sweat dripping down my spine.
Quickly, I located the section I was looking for, then replaced the card into the drawer before setting out in that direction. There would be no explaining why I was in that section if I still held the index card in my hand.
Thankfully, I wound up in a hidden-away area of the mezzanine level, far away from geography, politics, and whatever other sections the other girls were buzzing around like a swarm of brightly dressed hornets.
Releasing a little bit of the breath I held, I ran my fingers over the spines of the books until I located one that sounded like what I was looking for.
Curtseying and Bowing: How to Survive Court Life.
“Thank Aana for that,” I muttered to myself, pulling the book off the shelf and flipping it open to the contents. “Should just name it Curtseys for Dummies. That's what I need here, anyway.”
I'd managed to survive this far because each time we'd come into close proximity to the royals, we had already been at the dinner table where only a small head dip had been needed. Or so I'd gathered by copying the other girls.
Here, though, we would be getting scored on the perfection of our curtsey, something I was doomed to fail at if I didn't learn what the hell to do—and learn fast. Just that first contents page already made me groan in fear. There was more than one type? And which one you used depended on what status the person you were greeting held?
“I'm screwed,” I whispered, closing the book and smacking it lightly against my forehead.
“How so?” Zan's rich voice asked from close behind me, and I sucked in a breath of fright. How in the gods did people keep sneaking up on me? I was a thief! It should not be this easy to startle me!
Whirling to face him, I tucked the book behind me and gave a tight smile. “No reason. What are you doing up here?”
Zan's brows rose, and a small smile played at his lips. “What am I doing up here? This is the royal library, and I'm a scholar.” He had a valid point, and I pursed my lips. “What book do you have there, Lady Callaluna?”
“Hmm?” I blinked up at him with my very best confused expression. “What book?”
His smile spread wider. “The one you're hiding behind your back. Show me.” He held his open palm out to me, and I shook my head in refusal. “No?” He laughed, sounding surprised. “Lady Callaluna, surely you aren't so childish...”
My eyes narrowed at his insult, but before I could formulate a snappy retort, he'd stepped into my personal space. His strong, manly form boxed me against the shelves, and while I desperately scrambled to regain my scattered wits, the fucker reached behind me and plucked the book out of my weakened grip.
“Zan,” I growled, “I understand you're one of our tutors but—”
“If you're going to give me a warning about propriety around a lady, you can probably save it... Calla. Or is it Lo? I can't keep up with all these affectionate nicknames.” He arched a brow in challenge, then turned his gaze down to the book in his hand. “Well, that's not what I expected.”
Cheeks flaming with heat, I ground my teeth together and tried to wrench the book from his grip. To my dismay, he held firm and even went so far as to hold it up out of my reach.
“Very mature, Zan,” I hissed at him. “Give it back. It's not what I was looking for anyway.”
“Oh no?” he challenged. “Well good, you won’t mind me sitting here and reading it then.” He stepped back from where he'd caged me against the shelves and sank into a large, leather armchair.
For a long moment, I stared at him. But when he gave me a smug smile and proceeded to flip the cover open, then read aloud, I lost my temper. Marching over to him, I held my palm out and glowered death.
“Zan. Please give the damn book back; I don't have that much time to—”
“To learn the appropriate forms of curtsey for all seven kingdoms that we share borders with?” He arched one of those chestnut brows at me and gave me a smug smile. “I have no doubt that as a lady you would have been learning these forms from infancy... especially now.”
His mention of especially now had to do with politics. Teich had always been the ruling kingdom for all other kingdoms. When our magic imploded, so too had theirs. When our technologies failed, so had theirs. Because of this, tensions between each nation had been more than sensitive ever since, so whenever dignitaries visited, everyone walked on eggshells.
Or that's what I'd gathered from the snippets of conversation I'd picked up on previous visits when I'd lightened the purses of a few nobles here and there.
“Well, clearly it's not a high priority in Riverdell; otherwise I wouldn't be in this current predicament, now would I?” I needed that damn book, so I decided to switch from denial to snappish sarcasm.
Zan flipped over a few more pages, focusing his intense dark eyes on the book—thank Aana—rather than me. “This Riverdell sounds like a fascinating place, Lady Callaluna. I'll have to visit some time.”
Grinding my teeth together in an effort not to punch my etiquette tutor in the gorgeous face, I released a loud, vexed breath. “Zan,” I asked as politely as I could with my teeth still clenched in anger, “may I please have the book back?”
“Huh,” he murmured, slapping the book closed and looking up at me in curiosity. “And Ty said you had no manners.”
I'd take that up with Ty later, but in reality, that was the extent of my attempt at manners. Abandoning all pretense of ladylike decorum, I darted forward as quick as a whip and snatched the book from Zan's grip. Unfortunately for me, he was no lady eithe
r and retaliated with equal speed as he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me clear off balance and into his lap.
“Luna, darling,” he teased. “Falling for me so soon? What will my brothers think?”
“Brothers?” I frowned, struggling in his grip and getting nowhere. “Ty and Lee are your brothers?”
Zan made a noise in his throat, then shrugged. “As good as. We're all very close.”
“Do you intend to let me go?” I asked in a sharp tone, desperately trying to ignore the fact that I was sprawled halfway across his lap with my palms pressed to his chest, our faces mere inches apart. “I hardly think this would be appropriate behavior. As an etiquette tutor, you would know that.”
His grin spread, but he didn't make any move to release me. “I think you're a woman of many secrets, Luna... so I'll cut you a deal.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes at what was undoubtedly about to be a terrible deal. They always were. “Go on then,” I said in a dry voice.
“I'll help you learn these correct curtsey forms if you provide me with some entertainment.” His dark eyes glittered with something dangerously close to mischief. “Tonight, instead of dinner, there will be a dance. It's meant to be a surprise—an additional etiquette test to see how you all handle yourselves dancing with noblemen.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “Another excuse for those arrogant pricks to objectify the women who are literally dying to become wife to one of them.”
Zan barked a laugh. “Lee wasn't joking about your distain for the royal princes. Well, this is going to be fun. When one of the princes asks you to dance—because one of them will—you're to find a reason to kiss him.”
My jaw dropped open, and I almost forgot the compromising position he held me in.
“Sorry, fucking what now?”
Zan smirked. “You heard me, little Luna. Do we have a deal?”
I narrowed my eyes at him in suspicion. “How will you know if I do it or not? Last I checked, tutors weren't invited to dinner.”
“They needed more dance partners for all you lovely ladies, so some staff have been invited. In disguise of course.”
“Of course,” I murmured, thinking of the masks we were all required to wear. It'd be almost impossible to pick Zan out of a crowd if the masks were elaborate enough and especially if there were more than one brunette man... which was sort of a given. Shit. I was going to have to do this...
“And you'll teach me all seven curtsey forms before we have to return for the test?” I pursed my lips and squinted at him, searching for some additional loophole.
His lips twitched like he was holding back a smirk of triumph, and I seriously considered punching him in the balls and winging the damn test. But there was the small matter of getting poisoned if I was bottom of the class, not to mention the damn binding oath forcing me to try my hardest to win.
“I will,” he agreed. “But you won’t have much time left to find discussion topics. Some of these forms are really difficult.”
It was my turn to look smug, and I gave him a sly wink. “I don't need any time. You already gave us all the information we needed.”
Zan threw his head back and laughed at this, and I instinctively clapped a hand over his mouth to shut him the hell up. We were still in a library, and I desperately didn't need someone coming up to the mezzanine and finding me in his lap—willing or not.
He removed one hand from my waist to pry my fingers from his face. “Not just a pretty face and abrasive personality, huh, Luna?” He held that same palm out to me to shake. “Do we have a deal?”
Grumbling to myself, I scowled but took his offered hand. “Deal. But if I get beheaded for being inappropriate with a royal, I will come back and haunt your snarky ass.”
He snickered another laugh but finally released me. “Well, let's get on with this then. Hopefully you're a fast learner.”
13
After my crash course in perfect-form curtseys from all seven kingdoms and our own, I was able to bluff my way through the afternoon test without anyone so much as suspecting I might not have had the gentile upbringing of a lady.
That night Jules must have been given the memo about it being a dance as well as dinner because she had the most absurdly elaborate gown waiting for me after my shower.
“Seriously?” I questioned her, eyeing the offensive garment. “No, you're joking. Aren't you?”
Juliana looked almost offended as she folded her arms over her chest and glared at me. “Are you questioning my fashion sense, Rybet Waise?”
“Wouldn't dream of it,” I hastily replied, backing right the fuck down. Jules was as vicious as a street cat when she thought she was being insulted.
“Good. Now get dressed.” Her stern scowl was enough to make me drop my towel and scramble into the scarlet, beaded creation.
It was no better on my body than I had expected.
Full length sleeves skimmed the backs of my hands and covered the sticky bandage on my shoulder wound. Beaded fabric cut severely across my throat, entirely covering my front, but the back more than made up for that small level of modesty. Just a thin strip of red glass beads held the sleeves together across the top of my back, leaving the rest of my flesh exposed all the way down to the crack of my ass. In the front, a dramatic split cut up the left leg, stopping barely short of the red lace thong Jules had provided me with.
“Babe, how the hell am I supposed to move in this without flashing my vagina to every man and his friend?” I pouted as I turned back to my best friend, but the look on her face said it all. I was wearing this dress whether I liked it or not.
“You're sneaky. You'll make it work.” She waved off my concerns as she held out a pair of matching high-heeled shoes. “Come on, you'll be late if you keep fucking around.”
I sighed heavily but didn't waste breath arguing. High heels weren't something I'd a lot of experience with, but given I could balance on a wire when required, they should really pose no serious challenge.
“If someone tries to cop a feel tonight, it's on you,” I muttered at her as she quickly styled my hair into a simple updo. “I can't promise I won’t break his hand.”
Jules scoffed. “Uh-huh, unless it's Lee the gardener or Ty the soldier?”
My face flamed, but I shrugged. “I guess their hands might survive.” If I were being totally honest, I hoped they would be in the invited guests for the night—and that they'd try to cop a feel. That I'd allow.
While Jules finished my hair and makeup, I let my mind wander onto that scenario. But for some gods-cursed reason, when I was picturing those hands on me... there was a third set. Zan's. Ugh!
“Done,” Juliana announced, snapping me from my sordid thoughts. “Now go and impress. I have to pop into the city to take care of... business. But I should be back before you, so no more late night make-out sessions, okay?”
I rolled my eyes at her and smiled. “Yes, mother. Have fun with your 'business' tonight.” I threw her a knowing wink and headed out of our rooms to make my way to dinner.
The walk from my room to the great hall actually worked well in my favor, giving me time to adjust my gait to the new shoes and heavy dress. Every damn inch of the thing was crusted with beads, including the train, which trailed on the ground behind me. Hopefully there would be some way to pick it up if I really did need to dance.
I paused just outside the great hall. Shit. Dancing. How could I have let that slip my mind? I didn't know court dances! I only knew bawdy tavern dances, which were usually danced to dirty, offensive songs like “The Bonnie Princes’ Whore Woman” and similar catchy tunes.
Actually, that would have been a strangely appropriate choice of song during the Royal Trials.
“In or out, Callaluna,” an annoyed-sounding girl prompted me. “Some of us have a royal husband to woo, you know.”
Stepping aside, I allowed the pretty redhead to brush past me. I couldn't place her name, but recognized her as being close with Gracelin.
“They're all yours,” I muttered, sneering at her back. “I wish you all the happiness.”
The girl turned slightly to give me a baffled look, then sniffed, tugged her mask down, and tossed her hair as though dismissing me. I followed her because what other options were there? Refuse to play this sick game any longer and suffer who knows how painful of a death thanks to the binding oath magic?
Stupid me for not thinking that one through.
Inside the great hall, the long banquet table had been removed and a handful of well-dressed, masked gentlemen mingled with the ladies who'd already arrived. We were down to eighteen now and would be losing another one tonight.
“What do you think this is all about?” Agatha asked, coming up beside me and bouncing slightly on her toes with what I could only assume was excitement. Strange girl.
I shrugged, feigning ignorance. “Looks like they're mixing it up tonight with a dance.” I nodded to the string quartet in the corner playing gentle background music. “Because poisoning an innocent girl at a dance is so much more acceptable than the dinner table.”
Agatha's lips twisted into a grimace. “Maybe they've decided to skip it tonight, seeing as we're already one down from the first night?”
“No harm in wishing,” I murmured with a sigh. “But I doubt it.” The mousey girl said nothing in response, and I glanced down at her. “You'll be fine, though. I imagine your test went okay today?” We'd been tested in private, so no one could cheat by using someone else's knowledge, but Agatha just had that studious, bookish look about her.
She nodded. “Of course, Zan gave us all the info we needed during the class section. I spent the lunch break taking a nap.”
Despite the fact that one of our peers was staring down death, I couldn't help snorting a laugh. I wondered how many of the other ladies had worked out that their lunchtime “assignment” had been a wild goose chase. When Zan had done the initial introductions of each dignitary, he’d given us a key piece of information pertaining to each person’s country of origin. That was all that had been required to pass the test.
