As soon as the carriage disappears around the corner, I let the disguise fall. The last of my intent is barely enough to teleport me to the guest room in the castle just as the prince opens the door to my room. His presence makes the air grow cold and stale.
The busy evening has left me exhausted. A drop of sweat rolls down my temple, earning me the prince’s frown. He reaches over and wipes it away with a napkin.
“What mess you make of yourself, my silly bee! This ball is in your honor. My father went through great effort to put it together at such short notice. It would hurt the king’s reputation to have the future queen show up as a shoddy mess, yes?”
After a grueling three weeks of what this man calls training and I call torture, my spine curves forward without a conscious thought. “Accept my apologies, darling. I will fix myself immediately and join you in the ballroom.”
“That would be for the best.” His hand gently caresses my jaw. The touch sends a shiver down my spine. The gentle touch quickly transforms into a rough grab. “If I catch you shabby again this evening, I have some very interesting things planned for the night.”
A whimper tears through my parted lips, and that seems to provide him with the pleasure he sought. He cherishes my deflationas he lets me go. I feel the tears coming, but I push hard against the lump in my throat. I will not give him the satisfaction of breaking me.
“Mother.” He nods at her as he leaves.
Only when the door closes and we are truly alone does Mother pull me in her embrace.
“Did you find the mark?” Mother whispers into my hair.
“Why are you-”
“The servants. They aren’t ours.”
I try to pack all the nonchalance I can muster into the glance I throw around the room. Unfamiliar faces avoid my eyes. I have never bothered to learn their names or faces, but the red sun on their aprons is familiar to me.
“I did. She is on the way.” I whisper back.
“Good girl.” The performative hug transforms into a genuine one, and I can’t bring myself to hold it together anymore. Mother pats my back, the tiny gesture so foreign it sends a shiver down my spine. “There, there, piglet! The wait is almost over. After tonight, you will not live my life. I will take you away from this misery-infested place, if it is the last thing I do. Now, wipe away your tears. Go put on the performance of your lifetime.”
An hour later, I am in the great hall, mingling with the nobles. But I can’t shake the feeling of being watched.
A hand wraps around my waist, and I freeze on instinct. The prince makes a show of placing a warm kiss on my cheek. All the warmth in the world can’t melt his frigid heart. My cheeks offer a rosy blush as performative as the prince’s fidelity. The nobles coo at us, pretending that it was someone else’s tongue sliding down a maid’s throat not five minutes ago.
“There you are, my silly bee. I was beginning to think you were hiding from me.”
So what if I was? Do I not deserve a moment of respite?
I open my mouth to answer, but the prince’s attention is gone. I follow his line of sight to find a woman standing by the doors. A hush falls over the crowd as she glides down the stairs. The lower half of her gown ripples like water, but the upper half clings to her curves like satin. The handiwork on the bodice is a delicate yet detailed design in various shades of blue. A string of light blue pearls hold her silky hair up in a neat bun. Her lips are slightly parted, yet they carry hints of an innocent smile.
I hear a sharp gasp as the prince’s hand falls off my waist. Like a child laying eyes on a new toy for the first time, the prince forgets all about me as he snakes through the dancing couples towards the girl. I raise a goblet to my lips to hide the smile. Pity-filled noble eyes mistake my joy for embarrassment. I retain the good sense to not correct them.
Each rising beat of my heart asks questions I don’t have answers to. What if he soon gets bored of the ditzy blonde? What if he realizes she is a perfectly placed bait? What if he realizes I am the one who placed it? For all his flaws, the prince’s intelligence is a thing I envy. All I can do is beg Guna for a shred of luck.
I brave a glance towards the vacant doors. My eyes wander all over the dance floor, but the prince and the girl are both missing. That feeling of being watched no longer rests on my spine, making it marginally easier to breathe. I am tempted to sneak out and witness my plan unfold, but Mother’s keen glance deters me before I can take a step.
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