To Steal a Prince

by Cora Caraway

  Shaking my head, I try to make the images go away. It turned out all right. Marc didn’t win, and I’m fine.

  Except I’m not. My hands still tremble. I clasp them together, willing them to stop. It’s so strange to be under suspicion when for once in my life I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m not safe in the palace, not even here behind the blue door.

  10

  There’s a knock at my door, and I start. How long have I been sitting here?

  “Grace?” Damon jiggles the handle. “The door’s locked.”

  I let him in. “What is it? Did they search your room?”

  “Didn’t need to.” He leans against the doorframe. “A guard found the queen’s necklace. You’ll never guess where.”

  “Tell me then.” I’m not in the mood for games.

  “On the floor in Marc’s room. Can you believe it? All this turmoil, and it probably just slipped off Sarina’s neck while she was tucking him in last night.”

  I relax my hands, realizing that I’ve been clenching them. Eris has saved me. I’m going to have to repay her somehow.

  Damon gives me a hand, pulling me to my feet. “I’m sorry for dinner… again. They aren’t usually such bad hosts.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  He sighs. “I can have some food brought to you, if you like.”

  “I’m really not hungry anymore.”

  The prince takes my hands. “I really am sorry, Grace. Let me make it up to you.”

  “Really?” Coyly, I press myself against him. “How? Are you going to stay with me tonight?”

  His shoulders slump. “I can’t. I’m going on an errand with my father.”

  “Now? After what he said about us?” I wince, wishing I could take back my words. The last thing I want to do is make Damon feel he has to defend me to his daddy.

  “I want a chance to discuss things with him privately. I’ve only known you a few days, but you’re very important to me. Believe me?” He cups a hand under my chin.

  I nod, although I wish he would say something stronger at a time like this. I’m sure lots of things are important to the prince. Like Nic. And Felix. And having a room with enough shoes and clothes to keep a parade of women entertained.

  He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “I should be back tomorrow. A contingent of the guard is coming with us, so Nic will be here to look out for you.”

  I am glad that I won’t be alone with Marc. “What are you doing, anyway?”

  “It’s for the Regulus project. I’ll tell—no, I’ll show you when I get back.” His eyes gleam with mischief.

  I’m too tired to predict what he could possibly have in store. To be fair, the prince isn’t all that predictable to begin with. I look down, trying to hide a yawn. “What should I do with this necklace?” I rub the alexandrite pendant between my fingers. There’s no way I’m venturing to the Jewel Room myself after being accused of theft.

  “That’s what I was getting at when I asked you to let me make things up to you.”

  Puzzled, I squint at him. That’s far too many words to comprehend when I’m on the verge of sleep.

  Damon smiles, folding my hand over the pendant. “I want you to keep it.”

  “What?” I stare at him. This is a much bigger gift than a rose. “I can’t accept this.”

  “Why not? You don’t think I can afford it?”

  He really is exasperating. “It’s too much.”

  “All right, then. I’ll loan it to you for an extended period of time.”

  “How long?”

  Damon thinks for a moment. “A century ought to cover it.”

  “You’re impossible, you know that?”

  He silences me with a kiss on the cheek. I tilt my head, trying to find his lips with mine, but I’m not fast enough. Damon teases me, only letting our lips graze each other.

  “We’ll finish that when I get back. Goodnight, Grace.” He steps into the hall, closing the door behind him.

  I still wish that I had gotten him for the night instead of a necklace. Defeated, I fall to the bed. How am I supposed to survive a full day without him?

  Someone raps on the door.

  “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.” Nic strides in without waiting for a response.

  I roll over, shielding myself with a pillow. “What do you want?”

  “The prince told me to look after you. So, here I am.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “That remains to be seen.” He crosses his arms. “Are you going to get ready for the day, or are you going to throw a tantrum?”

  Giving him a baleful stare, I pull the covers up to my chin.

  “Come on, your ladyshipness. We don’t have much time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “To practice.”

  I’m loath to leave my cloud-like bed, but he has intrigued me. “Practice what?”

  “We’re full of questions this morning, aren’t we? Get ready, and I’ll show you.”

  Dragging myself out of bed, I head to the bathroom. Nic rips back the curtain to the terrace, letting in a stream of sunlight. He hums all too cheerfully while I brush my teeth and splash water on my face.

  “Ready?” he asks, looking me up and down. “Well, close enough, anyway.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Again with the questions. Let’s go! The day’s wasting.” He ushers me out the door.

  “Why are you in such a good mood?”

  “What, I’m not allowed to be happy? For your information, I haven’t had a day off in over a month. If you spent that much time worrying about potential assassins, poison, and paper cuts, you’d be grouchy too.”

  “Paper cuts?”

  “Yeah, the prince can be a bit of a wimp.” He pauses. “Don’t tell him I told you that.”

  “Oh, I won’t.”

  “Just because it’s my day off doesn’t mean that I can’t see that wicked smile. I’m off the clock, not blind.”

  We enter the main hall. Groups of servants bustle about, focused on their daily tasks.

  I put a hand on Nic’s shoulder, amazed at how far I have to reach. “Really, am I in trouble? I don’t want to blindly follow you if you’re taking me to the dungeon or something.”

  “My lady, a dungeon would be so uncouth. We had it replaced with a torture chamber at the start of the century.”

  I pull my hand back. The palace has a torture chamber?

  Nic guffaws, his pretense collapsing. “You didn’t believe that, did you?”

  “How would I know any better?”

  “I’m very sorry for misleading you.”

  Judging by his sputtering coughs, I’m sure he is.

  Someone rounds a pillar, bouncing off Nic. The bodyguard helps steady the man. My heart seizes. It’s Marc.

  “Well, well,” Nic says, holding him by the scruff so he can’t escape, “if it isn’t the cause of all that commotion yesterday. Next time, be a chum and warn us when you want to play dress up.”

  A passing group of servants laughs. Marc pushes away, lips tight. He glares at me, which I hardly think is fair since Nic is the one who insulted him. I keep the bodyguard between us as Marc stalks away.

  “You’re not helping,” I whisper.

  “I’m helping me,” Nic says. “I’m very amused right now. It’s shaping up to be a great day.” He throws an arm around me, forcing me to stop watching Marc’s retreat. “Try not to waste your thoughts on him. I’d say that he’s all bark and no bite, but that comparison is an insult to dogs.”

  Reluctantly, I let him lead me away. “It’s not in my nature to turn my back on people like that. It gives them too big of a target to stab.”

  Nic shakes a finger at me. “No stabbing. Not around me, anyway. That makes too much paperwork.”

  “This is serious, Nic.”

  “And so am I. That’s why he won’t mess with you when I’m around. So please stay with me, and that way neither of
us will get in trouble with Damon.”

  “That sounds like a fair compromise.”

  “Good. Then allow me to introduce you to the ballroom.” He opens a pair of gilded doors.

  The inside takes my breath away. A wood floor rolls out beneath us, the boards so white they look like snow. Golden flowers spiral up the alabaster arches that ring the room. More golden vines crawl up the white walls, yielding only to the wide windows. By the time they reach the ceiling, the vines are so overgrown that they cover it entirely.

  “What do you think?” Nic asks.

  “It’s amazing.” I think I’m going to get a crick in my neck from staring at the intricate work of art above.

  Nic shrugs. “It’s a bit much if you ask me. No one ever does, though.”

  I turn to him. “Why are we here, again? I thought we were going to practice something.”

  “Of course.” Nic steps close, holding up one hand like he wants me to grab it.

  Oh my god. Is he coming on to me?

  “Take my hand.”

  “Why?”

  He sighs. “Are you going to fight me every step of the way? I’m trying to teach you to dance. Unless you’re secretly a professional ballerina?”

  I back away. “I don’t dance.”

  “Well, we do. It’s incredibly important here. There’s a ball for every occasion, at least in the palace.”

  “I hardly believe that everyone in the palace loves to dance.”

  Something with squeaky wheels rolls by in the main hall. We both look to see Eris passing with a cart of laundry.

  “Excuse me, uh, miss,” Nic calls.

  “Eris,” I whisper. “Her name is Eris.”

  The girl glances at us, then brings her cart to a halt. “What are you two doing in the ballroom?”

  “I’m trying to teach Lady Sparrow how to be a civilized person.”

  “I hope you have a lot of time.” Eris winks at me.

  “I don’t, actually,” Nic says. “I was wondering if you could help us speed things up.”

  Eris leans against her cart. “All right then.”

  That’s weird. Is she actually being nice to Nic? Eris did do me a huge favor last night, but nice doesn’t seem to be her default.

  Nic holds out a hand, which Eris takes daintily. They look so ridiculous as a couple that I have to stifle a laugh. Nic could snap Eris like tinder.

  “Shall we show her how it’s done?” he asks.

  “Let’s.”

  Nic clicks something in his pocket, and the soaring swell of an orchestra fills the room. He places a hand on the maid’s back, and she rests her hand on his shoulder. At some unknown cue they’re off, moving perfectly in time with the music. I can’t believe how light Nic is on his feet. More amazing is the fact that Eris is letting him guide her around the room. Their feet seem to float above the dance floor. It looks effortless enough. I’m sure I can pick it up.

  I’m not sure if I could look as graceful as them, though. They could be lovers the way they dance. They seem to completely give themselves up to the music, the moment. I’m not sure I’m capable of that. Whenever I dance, I’m too aware of how quickly I could trip and wreck myself.

  “Watch our feet,” Nic calls to me. “Don’t doze off.”

  I try, but the pair moves so fast that their motions blur. They whirl around the ballroom, looking stately enough to be royalty. If only Eris had a flowing gown instead of those dull garments. They whirl farther away from me, staring into each other’s eyes. I wonder if they’ve forgotten me altogether.

  The music builds to a wave that crashes against the white walls. The dancers look like they’ve been swept away with it. Nic holds out an arm, letting Eris twirl with abandon. As her spins slow, he draws her back to him. The orchestra quiets, and Nic dips the maid low as the violins draw out one last plaintive note. The morning sun illuminates the arch of her neck.

  In the sudden silence, I can hear their ragged breathing. Nic pulls Eris back up, their lips so close that they could kiss…

  “Bravo!” I clap, making them jump. “That was great, you guys!”

  Nic looks between the two of us. “That was just the waltz. We can show you another, the traditional dance of the city.”

  “We?” Eris playfully pushes him away. “Some of us have errands to attend to.” She shakes out her fiery hair, then pulls it up again in an attempt to contain the wayward strands. “Good luck, Grace. The dance can be tricky at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. All you have to do is follow the man’s lead.” She glances slyly at Nic, her skirt swishing as she goes to retrieve her cart.

  I look at Nic. “Are you blushing?”

  “It’s the dance. It can make a man hot.”

  “Yeah. The dance.”

  Nic watches as Eris pushes her squeaky cart out of sight. “I told you we like dancing here.”

  “I believe you. But why do I have to learn?”

  “Damon will throw a ball for you in the next week or so. I guarantee it.”

  “Does he do that for every girl that waltzes in here?”

  “Of course not.” The bodyguard adjusts his coat.

  “He didn’t say anything about a ball to me.”

  “Nor to me.”

  “Then how do you know?”

  Nic stands in front of me, adjusting his feet so that they’re offset from mine. “I just do. He loves big shows, at heart. He’ll want to show you off. Take my hand.”

  Reluctantly, I do. “That’s not enough. How do you know?”

  “You need to focus if you want to learn the dance.” Nic slides a hand under my shoulder blade. “Put your hand on my shoulder. Lightly, not like it’s a piece of meat. And don’t slouch. Elbow up, our arms should be level with the floor. That’s better. We’ll start with the Left Closed Change.”

  “Is that even a real thing?”

  “Are you ready?” Nic is uncomfortably close, but he’s leaving more room than he did with Eris. “Try to keep your upper body still. Your legs should be doing the work.”

  I try to concentrate. It would be gratifying to surprise Damon with some competent dance steps.

  “What we’re going to do is form a box with our movements. It’ll help if you visualize that box as we go. To keep up with the music, count in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three. Two counts will get us around the box. Does that make sense?”

  My palms are already starting to feel damp. “I have no idea what you just said.”

  “It’ll make more sense once you try. To begin, step back with your right foot.”

  “But I thought this was a Left Change Thingy!”

  “That’s because the man starts off on his left foot.”

  “That’s sexist!”

  Nic shuts his eyes. “Do you want to learn, or not.”

  “Yes, but you’re confusing me.”

  “Right foot back.” Nic steps forward, forcing me to step back. “That’s count one. Now slide your left foot next to your right, then out to another corner of the box. You’ll form an L-shape. Do it quickly, that’s count two.”

  “Like this?”

  “Good. Now bring your right foot up to your left. And that’s count three.”

  I oblige, and Nic mirrors my motions.

  “Has he said anything about me?”

  “Grace! We haven’t even completed the box yet.”

  “That’s a ‘no,’ isn’t it?”

  “If I tell you the truth, can we get on with the lesson?”

  I nod dumbly.

  “He hasn’t said a single word.”

  A terrible lump forms in my throat.

  “But that’s how I know. He never shut up about the others. When I try to ask him how things are going with you, he just looks off into the distance with a stupid smile on his face. So it’s different this time. And maybe if I can teach you how to dance in time for the inevitable ball he’ll insist on, he’ll give me a vacation, or at least a bonus.”

  “You really think he likes
me?” I whisper.

  “Not if you can’t dance. To complete the box, we just have to perform the opposite steps.” Nic’s tone commands me to focus. Forcing my attention keeps my eyes from getting misty, which I appreciate.

  “Now,” Nic continues, “step forward with your left foot, sweep the L with your right, and then bring your left foot next to your right. That’s it. Let’s put it all together.”

  It takes a few tries before I stop fumbling. Waltzing isn’t as easy as Nic and Eris made it seem. It helps that I can look at Nic’s feet for guidance, but if I stare too long I start tripping over myself.

  “Let’s go slower. One, two, three. One, two, three.” Nic takes me through the steps over and over again, maintaining his patience even when I step on his foot. I have the feeling that he’s not just doing this for some vacation time.

  We keep at it, and soon I’m comfortable in the box. As scary as it is, the moves start feeling natural.

  Nic grins. “You want to add music?” Sweet notes rise on the air. It’s actually easier to dance with the music. The insistent strings help me keep time, and the melody relaxes me. Maybe I could actually be good at this someday.

  I lose my place less and less. I start to fix errors without faltering. Eventually, we make it through an entire waltz without mistakes.

  Grabbing Nic’s hands, I jump up and down. “I think I have it!”

  “Fantastic! Now let’s try the Reverse Turn.”

  I groan. “You mean there’s more?”

  “Unless you want to dance in a tiny box all night.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad. My feet are starting to get tired.”

  “You think it’s bad now? Try dancing in heels while wearing a heavy ball gown.”

  “Is it really that bad?”

  Nic gives me an evil smile. “I wouldn’t know. We men don’t put up with that sort of frippery.”

  I can tell he’s trying to bait me, so I’m not going to dignify him with a response. I am concerned, though. Dancing is hard enough in flats. Can I hope to manage in heels and a poofy dress?

  Nic puts me through my paces, filling my head with terms and dance steps until they all start to blend together. Eris stops by again to bring us some lunch, but besides that, Nic discourages breaks. It’s not until we complete a faster waltz with a double reverse spin that I realize the sun is setting.