by Mia Carson
Olivia ground her teeth but shook her head. “Who is going to be there?” she asked, hoping to stop any more comments like that.
“Dignitaries from the island mostly, a few foreigners, but no one too exciting. It’s a dinner, not a ball.”
“But Allete said there’d be dancing?”
“A bit, yes, but nothing as spectacular as when we have it in the main ballroom. This will be simple and very easy for you tonight. Just follow my lead and you will do just fine.”
“Are you sure? I mean, this is way out of my league.”
Quincy pulled them to a stop and turned her so she faced him. “My very first state dinner as a prince was frightening, too. There were a ton of people I didn’t know, and they all wanted to talk to me. I shook like a leaf for most of the night.”
“How did you get through it?”
He smirked. “I was eight and ate an entire cake by myself when no one was looking. Put me on a sugar high the rest of the night, and I didn’t care what happened.” He laughed as they continued towards the staircase. “The next day, I had the worst stomachache ever, but it was worth it.”
She shook her head as they descended the stairs and the music from the hall met her ears. “So you’re saying I should just eat cake all night?”
“No, but keep a full wine glass and don’t leave my side.”
Now that she knew, she wouldn’t have a problem doing it. When they reached the bottom of the steps, Olivia took in the sight of the many servants lined up from the main door of the palace and the path they created that went straight into a room she hadn’t seen yet.
“Is that the grand dining room?”
“Yes. It’s more of a greenhouse, but you’ll see it once we get inside. We’ll wait here for my father and your mother.”
Olivia and Quincy stood at the bottom of the stairs so they weren’t in the way, but the people coming in could still see them. She noticed very quickly how well everyone was dressed, and for a moment she was happy she was dolled-up. Minus the heels, of course. The women wore gowns much like hers, shining in the light cast by the crystal chandelier that hung from the entranceway ceiling. The men were dressed a step down from what Quincy wore, but still, a tux was a tux. If this was a dinner, Olivia couldn’t wait to see what a ball would be like.
Behind them, Olivia heard her mother’s laughter and turned to see her being escorted down the steps by King Lamont. “Wow,” she whispered at the sight of her mom. Never in her life had she looked so magnificent. She looked exactly like a queen should, regal and graceful as she made her way down the steps.
Her gown was a lighter shade of blue than Olivia’s, but the skirt was much fuller and the beading was intricately done in floral patterns along the bodice. It was tight fitting and sleeveless. The jewels she wore were diamonds and pearls, finishing off the look and matching the tiara atop her head.
“You look amazing, Mom,” Olivia said once Melinda reached her.
“So do you. See? I knew you could pull off being a princess.”
“You look so like your mother,” Lamont said, and Olivia bowed in a small curtsy, too scared to do a full one and fall over. “Son. I trust you have everything well in hand?”
“Of course, Father, as I always do at these affairs.”
“Good, then I trust the two of you will have a splendid time. Shall we, my dear?”
Lamont and Melinda walked by, the latter squeezing her daughter’s hand in encouragement, then headed to the path made by the servants. Quincy took Olivia’s hand and they followed.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Quincy said, but his smile hadn’t come back. “Nothing at all.”
***
Quincy wanted nothing more than to disappear onto the balcony that overlooked the bay and stare out over the water, but he couldn’t move from his spot. This was his duty as crown prince—schmoozing the local courtiers. He hated it with a passion, and being dressed up in a tux like this only made it worse. The only good part about this evening was getting to watch Olivia in that dress.
Everyone wanted to meet the stunning young woman who stood beside the prince, and by the tenth courtier, he could see the annoyance in her eyes though she kept a smile on her face.
“No, I’m not his date tonight,” she said politely to yet another woman with her husband and daughter in tow, just a year younger than Olivia. “I am his soon-to-be stepsister. My mother is Melinda.”
“Oh… Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” the woman, Aliza Pentacraft, said with a sudden brightening of her smile. “This is my daughter, Gigi, and she is delighted to meet you and to see the crown prince again, of course.”
Quincy fought the urge to ignore the hand the young girl offered her, but his instincts kicked in and he did, bending low over it as he kissed it. “My lady, it is good to see you again.”
Gigi smiled slowly and leaned in closer, holding tightly to Quincy’s hand. “As always, my Prince, I am happy to see you looking so well and vibrant.”
“Must be the lights,” he teased as he pulled his hand back.
“Will you save me a dance later, my Prince?”
He stared at her finery and the jewels that adorned her body. Her family must have paid a fortune to do her up like this and have her hair and makeup look like she was royalty herself. The dress was almost better than Olivia’s. Almost.
“I shall try my hardest,” he said with a bow of his head. “Ladies, gentleman.” The three Pentacrafts moved on down the line, and there was a bit of a gap for him to take a breather before the next person. He knew what his father was doing with this dinner. Usually, it was just the advisors and courtiers with their wives or husbands in attendance, but tonight, there was a wonderful turnout of daughters.
“Well, this is a very interesting evening,” Olivia said as she shifted from one foot to the other.
“What do you mean?”
“So many young women dolled up and available. My, my, I think your father is trying to tell you something.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” he said as he glanced around the dining hall with its glass ceiling and walls. The view of the gardens was usually spectacular, but when he looked across the room, he met a sea of eager eyes and popping bosoms. “I feel like I’m an art piece at a museum.”
She laughed loudly until several faces turned to stare at her. “It could be worse.”
“How so?”
“Every time one of them comes up here, I get looks like they want to murder me in my sleep until they learn who I am.”
“You know, I thought I noticed several very intense glares there for a moment.”
“Trust me, they would love to be standing where I am right now.” He watched her eyes rove around the room, but the beauty of the night had worn off for her already. She looked exactly like he felt—bored and in need of a drink and some air.
Dinner would be served soon, then the dancing, and then maybe he’d get a chance to sneak out for a bit and take Olivia with him. “You know,” he said, leaning close so only she could hear him, “when your mother said she had a daughter, I was worried you would be this selfish, vain person who, the moment you realized you were going to be a princess, turned out to be obnoxious.”
Olivia shrugged. “What says I won’t still turn into that? There’s still time.”
“Because you’d rather spend money on paint than clothes,” he said. “And Allete has mentioned several times to Pascal how worried you are about the jewels you wear.”
He took the moment to glance over her dress again, and his eyes landed on her breasts. His hand felt her warmth again as if he were holding it as he had yesterday, completely by accident. It had felt strange at first. A spark he didn’t know he could feel with someone had lit within him. Of course, he’d lied and said he hadn’t seen anything either, but as he’d helped her up, he’d let his eyelids open just a peek. A peek was all he’d needed.
Olivia was a very attractive woman. His dreams
last night had been filled with images of her naked body laid out in his bed. Horrible thoughts, really, to have of his stepsister, but he couldn’t help it. This morning, he’d had to wait a while before he could get out of bed and not embarrass himself in front of Pascal.
A staff was tapped on the ground, and the room fell silent as King Lamont stepped forward with Melinda by his side. “Good evening once again, members of the court,” he said in his booming voice. “Thank you for joining us this evening in welcoming my future wife and queen, Melinda, and her daughter, soon-to-be Princess Olivia.”
There was polite applause at his words until Lamont raised his hands for silence again.
“Please, find your seats at the table. Dinner and drinks for the evening will now be served. Afterwards, I invite everyone to the dance floor and the young ladies to make sure they dance with the prince tonight. He is, of course, the finest dancer on the isle.”
King Lamont took Melinda’s hand and they walked to the head of the table. Olivia started to as well, but Quincy didn’t move. His father was going to drive him crazy until he chose a woman to be his wife. Every event was going to be like this until the moment he made a decision. Every nerve in his body screamed to sneak out of there and disappear for the rest of the night, head to the nightclub, and drink himself to a happier state, but he couldn’t leave Olivia. He promised he’d get her through her first formal dinner, and he was a man of his word.
There was just a chance he might not remain a gentleman the rest of the night.
***
Despite feeling like a fish out of water and walking around barefoot the whole night, Olivia was having a pretty good time amongst the other members of the court. Some of the young women were uptight and looked down their noses at her when they learned where she was from and that she wanted to paint for a living, but there were a few who were just like her. It was refreshing to have some girl time. She missed Helen. There was so much she wanted to tell her best friend about… Well, mostly she wanted to tell her about Quincy, but Olivia was worried that if she started talking about her stepbrother, she would let other things slip.
Like how attractive he was while he danced, even though the smile on his face was false for every girl who took his hand. She had a feeling if she wasn’t there, he’d be off in a corner brooding over the whole situation. Not that she could blame him. If her mom had been pushing her to marry like that, she’d rebel, too.
“I think I’m going to get some air,” she told the women she was speaking with and politely pushed through the crowd of mingling guests towards the outer doors.
The doors led onto a balcony overlooking the jungle and beach that the palace backed onto. Beneath it was a private bay. The moment the doors were closed behind her by guards, Olivia inhaled a deep breath of fresh, salty air and felt every tensed muscle in her body relax. It wasn’t hard playing a princess, but being around so many people for so long made her wish for the empty fields of Nebraska and their back porch where she’d sit and paint. She couldn’t wait to use the new paints Sebastian had sent for her. There were so many eye-catching, vibrant details she wanted to capture for everyone back home.
“Good evening,” a man said behind her and she jumped. “My apologies, I did not mean to startle you, princess.”
“That’s alright,” she said as she stared at the man. He was her age, maybe a bit older, and handsome as hell. He was a bit taller than Quincy with lighter hair and freckles that on any other face might have looked childish, but on him, were stunning. He was muscular, too. She could tell by the way his tux jacket hugged his shoulders and biceps. “You don’t have to call me princess yet,” she said, trying to recover. “I’m just plain old Olivia.”
“I highly doubt you are just plain anything.” He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “I am Edric, son of Lucinda and Morgan Dorrance.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Edric,” she said in a bit of a daze. He hadn’t let go of her hand yet. “I’m sorry, what do your parents do? This is all still new to me. I’m used to everyone being a farmer or a farmhand.”
He smiled gently, and his laugh came easily. “My parents hold a seat in the small parliament on the Isle of Bijoux.”
“Ah, right. Parliament. Still getting used to that, too.”
“There are many things I’m sure you are still learning about this tiny kingdom. Perhaps one day you will be gracious enough to allow me to show you.”
She nodded, and they turned when the doors opened again and Quincy stormed out. He glanced at Olivia and Edric, down at their hands, and grinned. “I am sorry. Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” Edric said, quickly releasing Olivia’s hand. He bowed his head to Quincy. “My Prince.”
“Edric, always a pleasure to see you and your parents. Do tell them I said hello.”
Edric wore a smile on his face, but Olivia could tell the man was a bit put off by Quincy’s sarcastic tone. “Of course. If you will excuse me, prince and princess, I shall head back inside.” He turned and walked away.
When the doors closed again, Quincy moved to the balcony and leaned on it while Olivia’s hands scrunched her skirts. “What was that about?”
“Nothing. I was saying hello to him,” Quincy said.
Olivia stood beside him and opened her mouth to scold him when she saw the lines on his face and the tense set of his jaw. “Did something happen in there?”
“While you were out here flirting with a noble? No, nothing at all. Just my father putting me on show, like always. Nothing important.” Her lips thinned at the harshness of his words, and she turned to leave. He grabbed her hand. That one touch sent her nerves singing, and she felt another similar touch elsewhere. “I’m sorry. I did not mean that towards you.”
“I know,” she said and squeezed his hand before he let go. She turned to face the bay and watched the waves roll in far below them. “Will it really be that bad for you?”
He shrugged and rested his chin on his folded hands. For a second, he looked like a lost child who just wanted his wish to come true. “An arranged marriage? I don’t know. My parents had one, but I guess I’m not as willing as they were.”
Olivia blew a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t think I could do it.”
“Luckily, you won’t have to.”
“No?”
“No. Just me. Unless I die, you won’t have to worry about taking over,” he said and gave her arm a nudge. “You get to just be Princess Olivia of the Isle of Bijoux and probably live out your days in Nebraska where no one will bother you.”
She didn’t know what to say. The first few days around him had been nothing but jokes and smiles, but this was a different side of Quincy. He clearly wasn’t happy, and she had no idea how to cheer him up. The music played inside, and she glanced over her shoulder and saw couples dancing. They looked spectacular in their gowns and jewels, and suddenly, she wanted to be in there, smiling too.
Pushing back from the balcony, she grabbed Quincy’s hand and pulled. “Come on.”
“What… Where are we going?” he asked as his lips twitched into a smile.
“You owe me a dance,” she said with a smirk of her own. “Let’s go! The dinner is almost over.”
“Why do you want to dance with me?”
“Maybe I want to see the looks on all the other girls’ faces,” she said.
Quincy gave in and let her pull him back into the dining hall and onto the dance floor. As he placed his hand at her waist and took her hand in his, several of the other couples made room for the pair. Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw several girls frown, though many smiled at Quincy moving so gracefully across the floor. She was just happy she’d ditched the shoes because otherwise she would’ve stepped all over him.
One girl in particular glared with notable hostility. Gigi. Olivia wasn’t sure how she knew it, but that one was going to be trouble for Quincy. She hoped he could handle it.
Chapter 7
A few days ha
d passed since the dinner, and Olivia was itching to disappear into her room so she could paint. Every day since, there had been something she was needed to either attend or oversee, and it was getting annoying more than anything else. Each time she had to let Allete dress her up, and her personal servant was not exactly giving Olivia an easy time about it either.
“I’m sorry,” she said for the fifteenth time.
“Those sandals were perfect and where do I find them? Hidden in a linen closet like they are nothing but useless adornments,” she complained and shook her head. She told Olivia to close her eyes as she did her make up. “Honestly, miss, you cannot do things like that.”
“They were just sandals,” Olivia defended. “I can’t walk in heels that high!”
“Then perhaps you should practice. When you are officially a princess, you will have to wear heels like that. No questions asked.” Olivia opened her eyes to see Allete glaring at her. “And not every dress will hide your feet.”
As she walked away, Olivia rolled her eyes and moved her mouth to mock Allete, who turned around at the perfect moment. Olivia had the decency to look apologetic.
“You are lucky you have pretty feet,” Allete muttered under her breath as she turned to the wardrobe and sifted through the sandals and heels there. “Many women do not.”
“I don’t think anyone is going to stare at my feet.”
“You’d be surprised what they stare at, miss.”
“Ew, really? They’ll take pictures of my feet?” She glanced quickly down at her freshly manicured toenails and frowned. “That’s just creepy.”
Allete smirked as she told Olivia to sit back down so she could put her sandals on. “You are wearing a skirt today, so no losing your sandals.”
Olivia started to promise she’d keep them on until she glanced down at the violet, strappy sandals she held in her hands. “Those are taller than the last ones! Are you trying to get back at me for it? Really, Allete, I’m sorry. I don’t want a sprained ankle.”
“You have to learn, miss,” Allete said as she strapped them on. “Besides, they look beautiful, no?”
