He reckoned she owed him a bit of skintight silk from time to time after drowning him in loose fabric and blandness for all the years he’d known her.
Of course, he’d loved her, regardless of her shitty fashion sense. And her crappy taste in clothes didn’t detract from her beauty…but that didn’t mean such a status quo should continue, did it?
He wanted to see her sparkle. And that was the damn truth of it. Especially when it came to approaching the ladies of the court on their own battleground.
George noticed, as he examined the chandelier earrings laid out on the velvet pad before him, that Edward apparently felt the same way about the “sparkling.”
“I’ve never seen you wear those, Maman,” he said softly, staring at the four rows of ornate beadwork that came together in a shower of gems. There was a row of sapphire, aquamarine, a frothy kind of quartz that was tinged the faintest blue, and then shards of diamonds.
Literally hundreds of them.
“It’s not my style,” Marianne said simply, but there was no offense intended. His mother was suited to the less intricate pieces. Of which, in the royal vaults, there were few.
In the glory days of the royal family, when they didn’t have to worry about anything other than maintaining their seat on the throne at all costs, lavish jewels were a sign of prosperity.
George knew his father had had a lot of presents made from repurposed old pieces to gift his mother.
Perry, on the other hand, was suited to the frivolity.
She had a heart-shaped face, creamy skin, and eyes like almonds. When her dark hair was knotted at the top of her head as it was today, she looked like the queen she would one day be.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she reached for one and placed it in one ear, then quickly added the other one. She whistled as she swung around to face herself in the mirror. “They’re so heavy!”
George smirked. “What do you expect? You’ve got about ten carats of diamonds alone on each earlobe. They’re doing the ear equivalent of bicep curls.”
Perry snorted, then whacked him on the arm. “Shut up, you.”
Marianne cleared her throat, drawing the attention back to her. Perry’s cheeks turned pink as she realized she’d fallen back into old habits with him while his mother was there to see it.
Apology tinted her gaze as she peeked at him from under thick lashes, but it wasn’t necessary. The family knew he and Perry were close. Now that she was becoming a part of the DeSauvier clan, thanks to his brother’s proposal, they’d just have to get used to seeing it.
The friendship side of his relationship was one thing he refused to hide—even if it stirred gossip. Being Perry’s friend wasn’t illegal. And there was nothing wrong in it. He was okay with not being her lover in public, but he absolutely insisted on their being able to be themselves together. As they always would have been if George hadn’t suggested this madcap relationship Perry had with his brother, cousin, and himself.
“Edward has picked well, Perry,” Marianne murmured kindly, and George knew the double entendre was intended. “That blue matches your dress perfectly. But we also have two other pieces.”
Both his and Perry’s attentions were well and truly pricked. Underneath the royal blue box were two smaller boxes, cupped in Marianne’s fingers. And George realized he’d mistaken the earrings as having come from the larger of the three.
She placed one of the smaller duo down on the table, discarding it now that Perry was wearing them, then held out another.
Perry opened it and let out a deep sigh at a cuff that, while not a matching set with the earrings, did in fact suit her down to a tee. It was large, and thanks to the three-quarter length sleeves that clung to her forearms, the cuff would be perfectly showcased there. Filigreed gold and silver came together to form a lattice-style pattern. He remembered seeing that on his mother’s arm when the palace had been hosting a bunch of Greek diplomats. The style was an old tradition in the smaller Cypriot villages, and Marianne had worn it for that reason.
Thousands of strands of silver and gold were woven together to create a truly, uniquely delicate piece. One that suited Perry’s dress but also herself.
With the frothy earrings and the fancy cuff, she looked elegant to a fault.
Knowing what the third and final box contained, he folded his arms and leaned against the mirror, amusement setting in at the prospect of Perry’s next reaction.
She let out a soft squeal at the sight of the tiara, and though she didn’t realize it, she was being honored.
Veronia had odd traditions when it came to the females they allowed into their ranks by marriage. The headpieces were usually only presented to women after matrimony. Arabella, for example, Edward’s ex-wife, had been presented on her wedding day with access to a few of the simpler, smaller tiaras that belonged in the family vaults.
She’d certainly never worn the diadem resting on the velvet pad.
Made of platinum, it was similar in style to the cuff. The filigree work was exquisite and so delicate that she’d look like Titania wearing it, not just a princess-to-be. With diamonds and tumbled pearls decorating the four points of the headdress, and a large sapphire cabochon in the center, he couldn’t decide whether she’d look pagan or fairy as he took in the piece when his mother helped her wear it.
When it was settled atop her head, Marianne shot him a look. One that he simply blinked at.
They both knew what Edward’s gifts meant, and it was a further clue as to why the man himself wasn’t here to present the jewels to Perry; he’d wanted their mother to deliver them.
Edward’s selections were perfect for his wife-to-be. Not only down to the gown she wore, but for the woman herself.
Edward had, did she but know it, informed their mother of the depth of his regard for Perry.
And Marianne now knew it.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, when she turned to face herself in the mirror. “Oh my God.”
The litany repeated itself a few times as she gawped at herself, and George had to curb a smile at her response.
Even his maman looked amused. “You look like what you are, and what you will soon be to the rest of the world, Perry,” she told her kindly, resting her ringed fingers on Perry’s shoulders. “A princess.”
She gulped, caught Marianne’s gaze in the mirror, and whispered, “Thank you, Marianne. I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
And with that gentle and humble retort, words spoken with no avarice and no intent, George realized she’d done the impossible and won Marianne’s approval for the match.
“You look nervous.”
Edward grimaced at Xavier. “I’m not.”
“No? Well, you look it,” he retorted, eyeing his cousin as he settled his tails and fiddled with his white cravat for the tenth time.
“I’m just curious, that’s all.”
“Curious about what?”
“I sent mother with some jewelry for Perry.”
Xavier frowned. “You did?” That was an unusual means of declaring war. “Why?”
“I wanted her to know that Perry wasn’t…”
“An American strumpet who happened to bare her bewitching ankles before your rapt gaze and you were instantly captivated and imprisoned by her greedy hooks?”
Laughter bellowed from Edward, and Xavier’s lips curled in response. His cousin slapped him on the back and jibed, “Yes. That. Although, I’m not certain if Perry would appreciate her ankles being labeled as the only part of her body that are in any way bewitching.”
“Well, we can tell her differently. Tanta Marianne and Uncle Philippe never had sex, after all. You were both born by immaculate conception.”
Edward just pulled a face. “We’re too old for such thoughts.”
Xavier shuddered. “You’re never too old for those thoughts,” he retorted quickly, especially as he had far more intimate knowledge about his aunt and uncle’s love life than he’d ever wanted before.
> Knowing Philippe had had affairs tainted Xavier’s opinion of the man, he had to admit. And though he wished he didn’t know the truth, pulling the wool over his eyes didn’t make the situation any better.
Maybe it could be said that a man in Philippe’s position would always have affaires du cœur, as the French would say, but Xavier had always genuinely believed that the king and queen were in love.
Learning otherwise bruised his outlook some.
He was quiet when they wandered down the private royal quarters toward the ballroom where the party was being held tonight.
In Perry and Edward’s honor, it was a unique blend of personal and private. But of course, when that was done to suit the court’s lavish tastes, that meant there were at least four hundred people here.
One couldn’t offend the important nobles of the country. Even if they loathed the royal family and were loathed in return.
The pomp and ceremony bored him senseless, but he had to be here tonight. Not just in an official capacity, but for Perry.
Not only did he want to see her in the dress George had shown him, but he also wanted to be with her in a public setting.
The last time they’d been at an event of this stature, they’d stolen away together and had spent the night in her room.
That, had they but known it at the time, had triggered a chaotic tumble of events they could never have predicted. One which led to the here and now, where Perry was marrying Xavier’s cousin, while he was content to be one of the future queen’s secret beaus.
“You’ll have to go in by yourself,” Edward told him as they approached the private entrance to the ballroom. “Perry and I will be announced by the Master of Ceremonies.”
Having realized this already, Xavier clapped his cousin on the back. “Bonne chance,” he told him brightly.
Edward grimaced. “Is it bad that I’m more nervous about her wearing heels than anything else?”
Xavier chuckled, jolted from his troubled mood by Edward’s serious tone. It was one that was reserved for crises at court or international economic problems… not for a woman’s footwear.
“Considering she almost fell arse over head in front of the press on the day you announced your engagement… and that her own father warned you of her habit of tripping over air… no. I’d say your concern is viable.”
Edward pulled a face. “George wouldn’t be so foolish, would he?”
“Yes. He would, but not in this instance.”
It was the woman herself who made such a declaration, and as he and Edward turned to face the dazzling creature who was both of theirs, they sucked in sharp breaths at the sight of her.
She looked like…
Titania and Poseidon’s Queen Amphitrite combined. Ethereal yet solid, with a vibrant elegance that was unique to her alone.
“I do think you’ve made them speechless,” George told her, sounding proud as punch at the prospect. “And all without a heel in sight.”
She snorted. “I’m surprised you were intelligent enough to let me wear flats, George. Why they wouldn’t be surprised too, is beyond me.”
His younger cousin pouted. “Why do I feel insulted?”
“She called you an idiot. You should be,” Xavier retorted with a grin, but he strode over to Perry and, with a caution he hated but was imperative thanks to their location, pressed his lips to either side of her cheek in a friendly but light greeting.
On the second kiss, he whispered, “You look divine. And you look like mine.” When he pulled back, her eyes were sparkling brighter than the diamonds on her head or swinging from her ears.
“You mean that?” she demanded, her hand coming out to grab his forearm, holding him close.
“I do,” he told her, his tone formal in response to the uncertainty in hers.
She let loose a shaky breath then whispered, “I’m glad.”
It wasn’t like her to be tentative, although he knew their situation had shaken her more than most. It didn’t surprise him. She was about to dive headfirst into a swimming pool loaded with piranha… she’d have been foolish not to be agitated with the secret she was shielding from everyone—her love of three of the four highest-ranking males in the kingdom.
A mutual love that was being explored in a relationship that was so beyond outré, the scandal that would hit the nation would… well, he couldn’t even contemplate it.
They were walking a fine line, and they all knew it. But he, George, and Edward knew how to play the game. Perry was new to it.
She was the weakest link in that regard, but he had faith in her.
She was tough when it came down to it. She’d need that when push came to shove.
Perry let go of her clasp on George’s arm, and like Aphrodite floating to shore on her seashell, swept forward toward her fiancé.
Edward look starstruck. There was no other word for it. There was more emotion in his eyes than Xavier remembered seeing in the past twenty years.
The truth was, even though Xavier wanted Perry for himself, Edward was… he needed her.
The nation needed Perry for that reason alone.
Edward would be a good and fair king if he ruled alone. But with Perry as his queen? He’d be one of the best Veronia had ever seen, and, Xavier believed, the pair of them would see the nation through this recent unrest.
With a commoner for a bride, groups like the UnReals couldn’t deny that the monarchy was evolving. Change, it seemed, was exactly what such radicals wanted to see.
Perry was the harbinger of so much, and she didn’t even know it.
Protective instincts he’d never felt for anyone before flared to life, but they were unnecessary at the moment.
All three of them would shield her from what was to come for as long as they could. There would be a day when she’d have to stand on her own two feet, but tonight was not that night.
“You look like a Goddess,” Edward breathed, and Perry felt her cheeks burn brightly for the millionth time that evening.
His words were so sincere, she bit her lip. The paint on her mouth was like goddamn glue. It wasn’t going anywhere, but it tasted and felt like crap against her tongue.
The nastiness grounded her, and boy, did she need that.
When Edward looked at her like she’d painted the stars in the night sky, it was hard to remain on planet Earth.
But it was a huge confidence boost.
On the other side of the grand, gilt-edged doors, there were a few hundred people who’d all want a piece of her.
Here, before they made their grand entrance, she had a chance to breathe in air that was redolent with the heady desire her men felt for her.
Because of that, she knew that whatever the courtiers thought of her, whatever the women jealous over her ensnaring their future king thought, none of it mattered.
At that moment, to her men, she was perfect.
That was all that counted.
She pressed herself against Edward’s front. He was wearing a tuxedo jacket that swept down into two elegant tails that flapped against the backs of his thighs, reaching his knees. His black trousers were pressed just so, and the white shirt combined with the white waistcoat and cravat should have made him look like a walking, talking piano, but he didn’t. He looked fucking gorgeous.
Over his shoulders, in a move that beggared the laws of gravity, he wore a chain that must have restricted the movements of his upper arms. The heavy gold links were loaded down with emeralds. In the center of his chest, there was a large pendant styled out of gold that looked ancient, and housed, she noticed with interest, the DeSauvier family seal.
His hands curved around her waist as she pressed herself against him, and they slid down to cup her ass with a possessive hold that made her nostrils flare with desire.
Something about Edward did this to her.
He was so straight all the time. So rigid in his posture, in his stance… but with her, it was like she was the only one who could break that a tad. And she meant
a tad. But where he was concerned, it was like letting the floodgates open.
“Thank you for the jewelry,” she whispered against his cheek as she reached up to kiss him on the lips.
“It’s yours, Perry,” he told her softly as he tilted his head and brushed the crown of her cheek with his lips. “You look like my Queen,” he continued. “Like you were born to stand at my side.”
Gulping at his heady words, she had to whisper, “Not three paces back?”
He heaved out a laugh. “Like mother? No, certainly not. We rule together, or not at all.”
Despite herself, and despite the responsibilities that would entail, she brightened. “We rule together or not at all,” she repeated softly.
“Exactly,” he told her, sounding so satisfied that tears pricked her eyes.
Edward wasn’t broken. She couldn’t describe him as such. But he was…
Well, his past made her think of Humpty Dumpty. Only, in his case, all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, actually did manage to put him together again. But the cracks were there, and those cracks housed a thousand hurts she wanted to heal.
When she felt his kiss on her forehead, she let out a deep sigh. At that moment, everything truly felt all right in her world.
Even if there was a whole ton of crazy going on right now.
By the time she righted herself, she realized George and Xavier had disappeared. Edward noticed her disappointment and dragged a finger over the line of her jaw. “They need to be announced separately to us. We’re the final guests.”
She nodded. “I know. George drilled the rules into me today.” She really didn’t know how some of the new royals coped when they didn’t have three men teaching them the ropes.
Xavier was going to help her learn to dance, and was going to be her partner in the coming weeks as she learned how to schmooze dignitaries.
George was helping with all the mind-numbing protocol she also had to learn.
Edward was like a solid wall for her to lean against when it came down to it. He didn’t have as much input as her other men at the moment, but she had a feeling tonight was where he’d shine.
Her Highness, Princess Perry: Contemporary Reverse Harem (Kingdom of Veronia Book 2) Page 9
