I pinched the stem of the Rosas Rojas and placed it on my skirt. It clung to the fabric and stayed there. Thank goodness Tía Teresa had insisted on teaching me how to do that!
I held out a trembling hand and met his gaze.
“Of course, Your Highness.”
My voice wavered. He smiled at me and closed his fingers around mine.
Prince Lorenzo led me to the middle of the ballroom. His skin was warm, and his signet ring pressed gently into my hand. He smelled of pine like the Royal Dais.
He was taller than me, of course, but I was able to reach his shoulder without standing on tiptoe. The prince wrapped his arm around my waist, and the orchestra began to play.
We floated around the room. Thank goodness I had always worked hard at dance lessons. I knew the steps well enough to keep going no matter how my heart raced. It was effortless, dancing with him.
Staring into his bright eyes, I couldn’t think of anything to say. I focused on moving gracefully, aware that everyone was watching us.
“It is a good thing your stepsister is so tall,” he said. “I almost couldn’t find you.”
“And what would you have done then?”
“Well, I am glad you were standing beside her. Otherwise, I would have had to ask her to dance. That or looked extremely rude. I’m not sure which would have been worse.”
I giggled.
“She isn’t so bad.”
“But she certainly isn’t you.”
No, certainly not. But what was it about me that caught the prince’s attention? I couldn’t be the first girl to wink at him.
Then again, maybe I was. It was hardly proper behavior.
“I am pleased to finally meet you,” he said.
“Finally?”
“The servants have been gossiping. There will be a mysterious girl at the ball, they said. Two weeks away from her quince, but with wealth to spare. Small, just a bud, but with hair like the night sky. She will be the most beautiful of them all, and every don will want to dance with her.”
Tía Teresa’s plan had worked. I couldn’t believe it. It had actually worked, and Prince Lorenzo was dancing with me.
“They were right, Donna Alma. You have been the talk of the castle all day, and you do not disappoint.”
“Alma. Just Alma, Your Highness. I’m not a donna.”
My cheeks burned as red as my gown.
“Just Alma. Then you must call me Just Lorenzo.”
I gasped.
“Oh, I couldn’t!”
“I insist.”
“But, Your Highness!”
“Lorenzo.”
I ducked my head, inhaled, and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Lorenzo, then.”
He laughed.
“Where have you been hiding, mysterious just Alma? Why have we never met?”
Because I lived in the Merchant District and was never invited to noble gatherings, but that didn’t sound at all exciting.
“I have recently come from the land of a thousand hills covered in flowers.”
“The Garden District. For your parent’s wedding, of course. Is your estate there as well?”
“No, it’s on the river just outside Castello. You could walk there if you wanted to.”
What was I saying? Why would a prince want to walk to my house? He raised an eyebrow.
“Impossible. Shameful.”
I sputtered until I saw his grin.
“It is both impossible and shameful that we have never met when you live so close.”
“This is my first time in the castle.”
“Well, it will not be your last. Anyone clever enough to get the castle servants talking is someone worth knowing.”
He seemed confident about that, but I wasn’t sure. When would I ever need to come to the castle again?
I decided to push my luck. It had been remarkably good so far.
“I would be honored to attend another ball if Your High- if you wished it. Perhaps there will be a celebration when the treaty is signed?”
Lorenzo’s lips pursed together. It was the first time I had seen him look displeased, and the expression didn’t sit well on his handsome face.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have- I didn’t mean to presume.”
“Don’t apologize, Alma. I would love to have you attend the celebration ball, but I must ask you something first. This is a delicate matter.”
The music ended, and we stopped dancing. Everyone clapped politely. It took Lorenzo a moment to pull away, and he held my hand longer than was proper as he studied me.
What was he hoping to see?
Around us, everyone chose partners and prepared for the next dance. Father and Donna Senona were the first couple on the dance floor. Martina and Rafael stayed at the side of the room and watched.
Lorenzo finally released my hand and bowed to me. I curtsied as deeply as I could.
“I must return to the dais now,” he said. “I cannot neglect our guests.”
I nodded and winked at him.
One last time.
“Thank you for the dance, Just Lorenzo.”
“You are welcome, Just Alma.”
He turned and walked back to the dais without asking his question. My heart pounded as I watched him go. What had he wanted to say? What delicate matter could Prince Lorenzo possibly want to discuss with me?
A dancing donna brushed against me, and I shook my head to clear it. I needed to get off the dance floor. I found Mirella at the edge of the ballroom and hurried towards her.
She stood near her parents. They were arguing with each other, and Mirella kept her eyes on her shoes. How was she supposed to attract a don when her parents were making such a scene?
At least the music drowned out their words. I had almost reached them, and I still couldn’t tell what they were fighting about.
“Alma.”
I turned.
Carlo stood behind me, offering a Rosas Rojas. It was a lighter red than Lorenzo’s. Almost pink.
I accepted it with a blush, attached it to my skirt, and followed him to the dance floor.
Chapter 6
“It seems you have enthralled the prince,” Carlo said.
He did not look pleased. I focused on dancing as I tried to gather my thoughts. Thank goodness for the fairy-enchanted corset. I was having enough trouble breathing as it was.
Carlo waited for my response. He was an excellent dancer. Finally, I caught my breath and smiled at him.
“I’m sure he was just being kind. As are you.”
He frowned.
“No one gives a Rosas Rojas out of mere kindness. It is far too valuable a gift. Have you met the prince before?”
“Of course not. This is my first time in the castle.”
“But perhaps he left it.”
I shook my head.
“Honestly, Carlo. Don’t you think I would have told Mirella if I met Prince Lorenzo? And she would have told you. She couldn’t help herself.”
His frown faded.
“Forgive me if I seem rude, Alma. I feel responsible for you.”
My eyes widened. Carlo was older than me, but not that much older. I stared at him, trying to make out his exact meaning.
But his meaning was clear. He had given me a Rosas Rojas.
Since when did Carlo like me? He had always treated me the same as he treated Mirella. Like a younger sister.
Apparently, that had changed. Carlo tightened his grip on my hand.
“The prince’s favor has drawn everyone’s attention to you, but you shouldn’t even be here, Alma. You’re not of age yet.”
“If my father approves, I see no reason for you to object. My quince is only two weeks away.”
“Alma, I don’t want to sound harsh, but the prince will never marry a commoner. Even if he wanted to, his family won’t allow it. Stay away from him. Don’t let him break your heart.”
I missed a step in the dance, but Carlo covered for me b
y spinning closer.
“Marriage?” I sputtered. “Who said anything about marriage?”
“Why else would Prince Lorenzo seek you out and give you a Rosas Rojas?”
Why indeed? I didn’t have an answer, and my heart pounded in my chest. Was that the delicate matter he wanted to discuss? No, that was impossible. No point getting my hopes up for something so far-fetched.
“That makes no sense, Carlo. As you said, I’m not noble, and we’ve never met before. Lorenzo has more important things to deal with tonight. The Salarians-”
“He’s not looking at the Salarians.”
I followed his gaze. Carlo was right. The prince sat with Admiral Benjamin, but he was watching me. We danced past the dais, and he winked at me. I was so focused on him that I tripped over my skirt. Carlo held me upright and twirled me so I faced away from the throne.
“So the Salarians are boring,” I said. “He still has to stay with them all night. The crown prince has obligations at events like this, and those do not include wooing a common girl.”
“He will dance to the final song of the evening. It is a guild tradition he agreed to observe as good luck for the trade agreement. He might ask to dance it with you.”
Carlo leaned closer. His brown eyes had flecks of gold and green in them. I’d never noticed that before.
“Promise me the last dance of the evening, Alma. Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
The music ended, and I stepped back.
“Alma, please.”
I shook my head and hurried away without curtsying. I didn’t trust my voice, and I certainly wasn’t going to promise to stay away from the prince. If he sought me out again, I wanted to hear his question. It was unlikely to be a marriage proposal, but that only made me more curious. What did he want to ask?
Carlo had no right to be jealous. He had never expressed interest in me before. I owed him nothing, and I refused to let him ruin this night.
I was so distracted that I almost ran into a don as I walked across the dance floor. He bowed and offered me his Rosas Rojas.
I attached it to my skirt and curtsied to him.
“For the most beautiful lady here,” he said. “Forgive me, we have not been introduced. My name is Don Diego.”
“I’m Alma,” I said as we twirled onto the dance floor. “Just Alma.”
“You won’t be just anything for long. Not if I have a say in the matter.”
Of course, Don Diego! He was the one looking for a wealthy bride. He pulled me into his arms and held me tight as if he expected me to run away. I studied his face, which was handsome enough, but found myself distracted by his mustache. It was curled into tiny spirals and bounced when his lips moved. I was close enough to smell the wax and magic used to hold the shape.
“The leader of the Hair Guild is a friend of my father,” he said, noticing my interest. “I see you also prefer curls. We have a lot in common, Alma.”
“Do we?”
I tried to keep the amusement from my voice, but it didn’t matter. Don Diego wasn’t really paying attention to me. He was telling the story of how his family gained nobility centuries ago. He interspersed the family history with poems praising my beauty.
It should have been interesting. After all, I was trying to win a noble husband. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Prince Lorenzo’s question. What did he want to ask?
Don Diego talked the whole time we danced. I watched his mustache move up and down and nodded occasionally, hoping I wasn’t agreeing to anything too bizarre. My thoughts kept drifting back to Prince Lorenzo.
When our dance ended, Don Diego bowed and kissed my hand.
“I hope to see you soon, Alma. I will introduce myself to your father at the earliest opportunity. Perhaps in two weeks?”
After my quince. There was only one reason for him to do that. It seemed I had won him without even trying.
I curtsied and nodded. Winning a don’s affection had been my goal. Achieving it should make me feel happy.
I could laugh at Don Diego’s mustache for the rest of my life.
Five more dons asked me to dance after that, and each gave me a Rosas Rojas. Prince Lorenzo’s attention and my money had made me popular. The dons blended into a mass of men desperate for my time. Tía Teresa’s gossip had worked too well. I stopped trying to remember their names. They would approach Father after my quince if they were truly interested. I could sort through them later.
My feet throbbed, and the Rosas Rojas weighed down my skirt. I would sweat through my chemise if I didn’t get a break soon. The evening was not turning out to be as fun as I expected.
I surveyed the ballroom between dances. Rosa sat on a bench at the edge of the room, staring down at her lap. I steered my partner towards her during the next dance. Rosa noticed me watching and waved.
Unbelievable. She was reading! She had sneaked a book into the castle and was reading during the ball. They really didn’t teach proper etiquette in the Garden District.
Mirella had finally been asked to dance, but she hadn’t received any Rosas Rojas. I swirled past while she was dancing with Don Diego. She made a face at me, and I laughed.
“Interesting,” my current dance partner said. “Most people don’t understand the comic interpretation of that poem.”
“Oh, yes. The poem.”
I hadn’t realized he was reciting poetry, and I didn’t see a way to get him to stop. I pulled him towards the refreshment table at the edge of the ballroom. Perhaps he would offer me a drink when the dance ended.
He didn’t. When the music stopped, he bowed and stepped aside. A young man stood behind him.
I stared into a freckled face framed by golden hair. Green eyes stared back at me. He wore a dark green uniform cut much looser than Castanian fashions allowed.
A Salarian.
I tried not to stare too long and failed. His hair was cut far too short to be fashionable. The golden color reflected the Light Guild’s magic. At the moment, it made his hair look pink. He looked too young to be a naval officer. Not much older than me.
I needed to stop staring at him and say something. His green eyes sparkled as if he found me equally fascinating.
I curtsied, opened my mouth to address him, then shut it again. By the roses, I didn’t know his name! Or his title. What should I call him?
“Ambassador,” I said finally.
Not quite right, but it sounded official.
“Miss,” he said in an unfamiliar accent.
He handed me a yellow rose. Not a Rosas Rojas, just an ordinary flower. I tucked it behind my ear to buy time. What should I say now? The king said the Salarians brought their own language charms. How did they work? Would he understand me?
“Thank you for the rose,” I said.
We began to dance, and the Salarian grinned at me.
“I picked it in the garden. I didn’t want to be the only one that didn’t give you a gift. Is it your birthday?”
“My what?”
I blinked at him. He blinked back.
“Um, your birthday. Is my charm working? Can you understand me?”
He tapped a silver disk pinned to his tunic. The swirling lines and symbols carved into the metal glowed white when he touched them. He seemed satisfied with the glow and turned back to me.
“Birthday. The day you were born. Do you celebrate those here?”
I giggled.
“Of course we do. But no, today isn’t my birthday.”
“Oh, I thought it was. My maid kept babbling on this morning about someone’s fifteenth birthday, and then everyone gave you flowers. Anyway, nice to meet you. I’m Ensign Ethan, but you can just call me Ethan if you like.”
“The admiral’s grandson?”
I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but Ensign Ethan nodded.
“I had to use my status as a diplomat to get a dance with you. There’s a line.”
“I’m Alma. What do you mean there’s a line?”
I gla
nced around the ballroom, looking for a line of dons. Ensign Ethan laughed.
“Not an actual line. More like a line of honor. Men are pulling rank and calling in favors to get a chance to dance with you.”
“A line of honor? Is that a Salarian tradition?”
He shrugged.
“I’ve never been to a Salarian ball. I thought it was Castanian.”
“Oh. I’ve never been to a Castanian ball. I’m too young, and I wouldn’t know about lines of honor anyway. I didn’t expect to be this popular.”
Ensign Ethan’s smile widened. His upturned nose and twinkling eyes made him look mischievous and entirely unsuited to be a diplomat or naval officer. I decided to accept his offer to just call him by his name instead of including his title.
“If it isn’t your birthday then why is everyone giving you roses?” he asked.
“The Rosas Rojas is a Castanian tradition. They’re made with magic. It takes the souls of a hundred roses to create one.”
“Roses have souls?”
“We call it their soul. It is the energy that keeps them alive. Humans have it too.”
“So the roses die when you make the Rosas Rojas?”
I nodded, picturing Donna Senona’s estate as fields of shriveled, black stalks. The image cheered me up and made me forget my aching feet. Would Father like the Garden District then? When the roses were dead?
Ethan examined the Rosas Rojas pinned to my skirt.
“My gift isn’t much compared to these. Sorry.”
“Not at all. Yours is the only fresh rose I’ve received all night.”
“So what does the Rosas Rojas mean? Why did you get so many?”
I blushed a little.
“Dons give them to the donna they like best at the ball. Rosas Rojas means the reddest rose. The most beautiful.”
“So they give them to the lady they think is the most beautiful?”
I nodded.
“You’ve got a lot of admirers, Alma.”
I shrugged, feeling strangely comfortable with this foreigner.
“I think they like my father’s money more than they like me. They’ll have to call on him after my quince to make things official. The Rosas Rojas can be taken as a proposal of marriage, but that isn’t allowed since I’m not old enough.”
Lady Alma Page 5
