Cursed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 5 Read online

  “Security is at the ready. Your father hasn’t arrived, but he’s not expected for another hour or more.” Unlike hers, Vince’s was voice was perfectly controlled, his words crisp and cool. He’d been like that since they’d first arrived, a rock of calm in the middle of a building storm. She hadn’t seen nearly enough of him as she’d wanted, but every time she was in public or met with any group, inside or out of the palace, he was there, escorting her to and from rooms, buildings, and vehicles with a warm smile, an easy touch, a comforting presence.

  But they hadn’t been alone for more than two minutes since she’d set foot back in her homeland.

  Part of her knew she should feel lucky for what she got. Vince was a foreigner, an interloper many would say, and it was only the queen’s approval of his presence that allowed him to be near to her at all. His presence had caused quite a stir among the tittering matrons of the queen’s set, especially when the queen had called him Prince in front of the women. There ensued yet another explanation—by Vince himself, with his unfailingly gracious and professional demeanor—yet again why he was known as Prince among his friends. The women had been enraptured, but Edeena couldn’t blame them; they didn’t get a lot of polite foreigners willing to give them the time of day, despite their vaunted status, whereas Vince seemed comfortable catering to them. All that time he spent with his cousins’ families, Edeena suspected, and remembering the boisterous dinner party at Vince’s parents’ house made her smile.

  The expression brought spontaneous applause from her handlers.

  “Yes!” said the dressmaker, the bossiest one of the set. “That is the smile that will go best with the way you have been styled this day, Countess Saleri,” she said, speaking in rapid Garronois. “This is your official introduction to society, where you will see all the young men vying for your hand. Your engagement ball is in only a few days, and then you may be more sophisticated and arch—but not today, eh?”

  Edeena lifted her brows. “This truly is the way it’s done?” she asked the woman, for what seemed to be the millionth time. “I go from blushing ingénue to sophisticated socialite in a matter of three days, and people think this is legitimate?”

  “It doesn’t need to be legitimate, it is pageantry,” the woman assured her. She was the queen’s own primary dresser, and Edeena had found her to be a font of information—even if it was information Edeena was finding impossible to digest. “There will be no one in that ballroom who doesn’t believe you’ve already found your partner. The game will be to guess who you’ve chosen.”

  “But I haven’t even met these men,” Edeena groaned, suddenly glad to be speaking in Garronois. She hadn’t had the privacy to fill Vince in on the more ridiculous elements of this farce, but she got the impression someone had. Even now he watched her impassively, his hands crossed behind his back, waiting for her to be released from her keepers. “Surely they realize how much of a farce this is.”

  “They would not be here this night unless they were willing to consider the possibility of matrimony, my dear. You are making this far too complicated.” She stood back, eyeing her handiwork with a studied eye, then nodding with approval. “In most marriages, you laugh, you dance, then you decide if you will suit. In Garronia, at least for the noble class, it is simply the other way around.”

  “You decide you will suit, you dance . . . and then you laugh?” Edeena asked.

  “With the right man, you will know, eh? And that is who you choose. Come now,” she said briskly when Edeena’s demeanor clearly didn’t convey the appropriate level of enthusiasm. “There is an entire roomful of right men waiting to dance with you beyond that door, each hoping to some degree to make you laugh.” The woman tucked a curl of Edeena’s hair behind her ear, and gave her a reassuring smile. “There are many women who would wish for this choice, no?”

  And that’s, of course, what did it. The dressmaker was right—all of them were right. Edeena had been blessed to be born into a family of grace and privilege, and her only requirement was that she found a man with whom she could spend her life in reasonable contentment. For that small sacrifice, her entire family would be strengthened.

  She needed to grow up.

  She smiled more determinedly now at the dressmaker, and the woman nodded, though her gaze was still assessing. “Not so much focus, my dear. Remember the smile as you were recalling a happy memory. That’s what we want. You are not assessing marriage prospects as much as being a young woman, delighted to be at a party that is filled with possibility. You can do that for me, yes? It will make all who have helped you so happy to see their work showcased with your beauty and your joy.”

  Edeena glanced around at the hopeful faces surrounding her, young women and old giving her shy smiles—some of them dreamy smiles, as if they wondered what they would do in her position, who they would pick, how they would dance.

  The whole thing was impossible.

  Still as she turned back to the dressmaker, her gaze caught Vince’s eyes as he stared at her. Despite his stoic and perfectly professional demeanor, in his gaze was something more than calm assurance—it was dark, intense, and it made her feel admired and adored. Something about this dress, this look was meeting with his approval, and that more than anything fueled the smile she turned on the queen’s dressmaker.

  “Yes!” the woman exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Now, you are ready.”

  Vince walked with Edeena down the wide, gracious hallway, aware of the strange glances he was getting. It’d been like that since he’d arrived at the castle, had only gotten worse after he’d been assigned as Edeena’s bodyguard. He suspected it was because he wasn’t exactly acting like her bodyguard.

  He’d trailed local officials, even mid-range celebrities before, and the routine had always been the same. He was present, he was part of the entourage, but he didn’t get too close. He didn’t let anyone crowd the client, but he didn’t crowd the client either.

  With Edeena, however, he was the entourage. No other security was conspicuous as they met and dined with various rotations of royal relatives or hangers-on, and he acted less as Edeena’s hired help than as her trusted friend. Even here tonight, instead of walking respectfully behind her, she was on his arm—and he was dressed in a freaking tuxedo. Worse, Dimitri Korba, who’d turned out to be a captain of the Garronia National Security Force, hadn’t given him permission to carry his weapon inside the castle. Instead, he’d made him go low tech, with a blade for close range strapped to his leg. Vince had trained with knives, but he found he was far more at ease when they traveled outside the castle, and he could holster his own Sig Sauer.

  He sensed Edeena slowing and he glanced down at her, catching the tightness of her expression. “You okay?”

  Her smile instantly returned to her face, though there still no one to see them. She picked up her pace as well.

  “Yes . . . yes, of course. I got distracted.”

  He nodded. “This is some sort of speed dating kind of thing, right? You go around and talk to all these different guys, the ones you’ve read those files on, and then . . . what, vote a set of them off the island?”

  Edeena burst out a laugh, drawing the attention of some of the staffers hurrying down the corridor with them, including the hatchet-faced woman who’d been chattering at Edeena nonstop when he’d stepped into the dressing room. Which was an actual thing, to his surprise—an entire room given over simply to dress important people in advance of their introduction to the castle guests. He couldn’t imagine such a room would be all that necessary, but it’d looked like it was well-used.

  “It’s rather a bit less dramatic than that,” Edeena said, and she squeezed his arm, the move so unconsciously affectionate that he felt like he’d scored a win. When she spoke again, Edeena sounded more relaxed as well. “Essentially, I meet all these charming men who’ve been kind enough to offer for my hand and subject themselves to the vetting process. Over the next few days, I meet a select few of them in their ow
n homes a second time—though that’s optional—and then, at the grand engagement ball at the end of the week, I announce who I’d like to accept a betrothal offer from. It’s technically still up to the gentleman in question to go through the motions of claiming my hand, but they are prepared ahead of time, usually. They’ve never not come through with a suitable proposal.”

  “That’d probably be a lot to spring on a guy out of the blue, yeah,” Vince said. These people were batshit, he decided. Totally and completely.

  Edeena continued, oblivious to his thoughts. “It has happened, of course. Silas chose my mother out of the blue, I’ve been told, and she had to scramble for a response. She’d been so certain he was going to pick another woman.”

  “Well, your mom would have had to go through this same charade otherwise, then, wouldn’t she?”

  Edeena shook her head. “She wasn’t the eldest child, so no. It’s more for a succession planning issue, not to put every one of our young people through the wringer. It’s only on occasion that parents use it to truly ruin their children’s happiness.”

  Despite Edeena’s light tone, Vince grimaced. He’d not met Silas, but he would tonight, and everyone who mentioned the man’s name in the palace did so with the undertone of menace. He couldn’t seem to get a straight story on what slight the elder Saleri had made to the royal family, but it had been grave. Only Silas’s clear focus on his ailing wife seemed to be cause for anyone to cut him any slack.

  Now they slowed in earnest, and Vince glanced ahead, realizing they were queuing up in some sort of reception line. “What’s this?”

  “You’ll be able to take me to the door, but then I walk out solo, the star attraction of the show,” Edeena said, her lips twisting in self derision. “It’ll be a miracle if I don’t fall down or turn into a chicken.”

  “Tell me that is not part of the curse.”

  “What? No!” Edeena chuckled again, the peal of her soft laughter drawing more glances and smiles this time, as older people he didn’t recognize filed through the door. When it came time for him to let Edeena go through, he reluctantly disengaged her from his arm.

  “Do I look okay?” she whispered, and she was gazing up at him, not the attendant who was doing something to the back of her dress.

  He looked down at her and for a long moment, found he couldn’t speak. He’d had the pleasure of seeing Edeena Saleri in a dozen different settings over the past few weeks, from the day she came bustling off the airplane in Charleston to the walk along the labyrinth on Pearl Island to the magical, almost impossible-to-believe night she’d spent in his arms and in his bed. Every time he saw a new side of her, he swore it was by far the most beautiful of all.

  But here in Garronia, it was different. This was her home, and as crazy as these people were, they were her people, and she loved them. Dressed up like some sort of fairy tale princess, her eyes shining with a curious mixture of hope and apprehension as she gazed at him, he realized that here, once again, she had outdone herself.

  “You are, by far, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Countess Edeena Saleri,” he said quietly, gathering her limp hands with his and bringing them together to hold in front of his chest. “I’ve never seen you look more perfect than you do right now.”

  Edeena’s eyes widened in sudden, stunned response, but her face was wreathed in an incandescent smile even as she was nudged by a small, older man in a fastidious tuxedo, speaking something to her in Garronois.

  She started to turn, then spun back to him for the barest moment, standing up on her toes to kiss Vince softly on the lips, barely a whisper, not enough to mar her makeup despite the sudden squawk of the women who had followed along in their wake.

  “Thank you!” she said urgently, her eyes shining, then she was turning again and sailing through the door.

  A loud roll of applause sounded and Vince instantly stood back, aware that he wouldn’t be allowed to take up his role until the rest of the muckety-mucks were through the line, but his heart swelled with pride at the response to Edeena’s introduction to the crowd. She really was an honor to her family, and her sisters should be proud of her. Her father, too, if he was somewhere in the crowd already. Vince hoped he was. Silas needed to see his daughter through the eyes of others, not through his own myopically warped view of what she could do for him.

  “You!” The slap to his arm came so unexpectedly and from such a low trajectory that Vince fell back, his arms lifting in confusion on how to defend himself against the attack. He looked down and instantly recognized the harridan from the dressing room, the one who’d cinched Edeena into her gown and proclaimed her ready, like a perfectly frosted cake.

  Now she was standing in front of him with her beetle-dark eyes fixed on him malevolently, her mouth cast into a bitter grimace. “You!” she spat again.

  What the hell had he done to upset the old woman?

  “Yes, miss—” he attempted, but the woman batted at him again.

  “You must go in there and be where she can see you at all times,” the woman said imperiously. “Go! You must go.”

  “I . . . what?” Vince managed, casting around a glance for help. No one else seemed to be concerned that he was being accosted by the tiny dressmaker.

  “Today of all days, the young countess must show the people in the crowd—not all of whom are who they seem—that she is a lovely, vibrant young woman who is strong enough to pull off what no Saleri has done in hundreds of years. For that,” she poked Vince again, “she needs to smile. She needs to laugh. She needs to be as beautiful and strong as she truly is. And when she looks at you, she is.”

  With a strength that belied her small figure, she jerked his arm forward, pushing him into line.

  “So go!” she commanded.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Edeena smiled with genuine relief as the applause died away, moving forward as protocol dictated to first greet the king and queen.

  King Jasen beamed at her, polite as always, but Queen Catherine looked her over with a shrewd eye. “I’ll have to give Magdalene a bonus,” she said mildly, and Edeena curtsied, then turned a little to show off the dress’s elegant drape.

  “If this is what she came up with for the matchmaker’s dance, I can’t imagine what she has planned for the engagement ball.” Engagement ball. Even saying those words sounded ridiculous, as if she was talking about someone else. Still, Edeena kept her smile steady as the queen laughed.

  “Tonight is all about being the wide-eyed ingénue. The engagement ball is about being a woman with a choice to make. Trust me, you’ll like what Magdalene comes up with. She is always astute at what will create the perfect impression.” The queen offered her an arm, and Edeena blinked in surprise.

  “But the line—?”

  “Jasen can handle the meet and greets, can’t you dear?” The queen raised a brow to her husband, who looked like he was barely able to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “You’re the guest of honor, Edeena, and the round of the room is considered de rigueur.” She frowned, still looking at Jasen. “We haven’t had one of these in awhile, have we.”

  “For good reason,” the king responded mildly. “Most sane parents have no need to put their children through this public exhibition. If there’s a need for a succession discussion, it can be held behind closed doors, and not with all of this lurid display.”

  “Lurid,” his wife scoffed, though she smiled at him with clear affection. “You simply don’t like wearing a suit when there’s no one official around to see you in it.” She turned again to Edeena and tugged her along. “But come, we’ve much ground to cover in a short while. Have you already made your selection?”

  Edeena’s heart sank as she allowed the queen to guide her toward the far wall of the ballroom. It was crowded, but there were nevertheless only about a third as many attendees tonight than what the ball later this week would drag in. Instead there were pools of men, young and old, talking amongst themselves. Every single woman in a fi
ve-mile radius of sufficient social status had also been tapped, and they stood in different pools, neither of the two groups allowed to intermingle until Edeena had danced the first dance—with the entire single male population of the room.

  The entire thing seemed more ridiculous by the second, and she wondered what Vince must be thinking.

  Vince. She lifted her gaze and scanned the ballroom, finding him more easily than she’d feared. He stood near the edge of the female attendees, a few feet distant from the nearest knot of men. Not a part of either group, yet he seemed as blessedly familiar to her as sun on a summer’s day. As their gaze met, he gave her a warm smile, and her heart stopped cramping so much.

  “Edeena, dear, pay attention,” the queen said mildly, and Edeena tore her gaze away from Vince to survey the room. Had Catherine noticed her distraction? Probably not, or she would have already pounced on it. “Your thoughts?”

  “Rand Millya,” she said, picking out the man in question at the far end of the room. He stood with four other men, and he truly was the best candidate by far. “He’s twenty-eight, so arguably more ready to settle down, he comes from a large, gregarious family, their business is profitable, and he’s always been polite.”

  “Not too hard to look at either,” the queen observed blithely, and Edeena blinked.

  “Well, yes,” she allowed, but almost of its own volition, her gaze strayed back to Vince. Even in his beautiful suit, he looked slightly disheveled, his body meant for a level of action the restrictive formalwear simply didn’t allow. He wasn’t out of place at this proper matchmaker’s dance, he was just—too large for it. Much like Dimitri Korba, who also scanned the room with the same studied gaze that Vince had adopted.

  Realizing the queen was waiting for some kind of response, Edeena hurried on. “If Rand isn’t interested, then the older brother of the Staros family, Pietre, would be next.”