The last time Etta attended a ball was for the queen’s birthday. She’d been ten-years-old and was only invited because Queen Catrine had a fondness for the children of the court. Normally, they were kept away.
No children would be present tonight, but every noble of the kingdom would go out of their way, some traveling for days, to be there when their new king gave his first toast. There was to be no more mourning for dead kings. It was Alexandre’s wish. If the realm was to withstand the challenges to come, they must look to the future, not the past.
That future had Etta wearing a gown that was much too tight, and rouge that made her look like someone else. She ran her hands down the soft fabric of her pink dress. It hugged every curve before flaring out at the waist. The neckline dipped low into the cleavage of her breasts, leaving her favorite place to stash her knife unavailable.
She lifted the hem of her skirt and strapped a sheath to her thigh. There. Now she didn’t feel so naked.
She wished she could wear her sword, but even the protector wasn’t allowed a weapon tonight.
She didn’t understand how they expected her to protect the king in such a silly frock. And she wouldn’t be able to run in the horrid shoes they forced on her. Not like she could breathe enough for that, anyway.
She left her room behind and made her way next door. One of the guards knocked for her.
The face that greeted her wasn’t the king’s. Camille sneered from the doorway, her eyes narrowing like a predator finding its prey.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the princess said after a beat of suffocating silence.
“I should be anywhere the king is.” Etta cocked her head to the side. “Tell me, how is Anders?”
Shock registered on Camille’s face just long enough for Etta to realize she wasn’t wrong. They were up to something.
“I won’t even pretend to understand what you’re talking about.” She lowered her voice. “Commoner.”
“Camille,” Alex snapped, appearing behind her. “I’ll never understand why you always have to be cruel.”
Camille reeled back and turned her scowl on Alex. “Watch it, Brother.”
“Or what? Father is no longer here to praise your cruelty. I am king and you will treat me as such. Etta is my protector. She will be shown respect.”
Camille huffed and stalked back into the room. Alex’s eyes met Etta’s and flashes of the night before appeared before her eyes.
Don’t you feel it?
Sometimes it’s the only thing I feel.
She shook her head and bowed. “Your Majesty.”
“Etta.” He swallowed hard, his eyes roaming from the tops of her breasts pushing against the dress down her long torso and toned, bare arms.
She crossed her arms over her chest to cover herself. “I didn’t have a choice in dress.”
“It’s uh…” He pushed a hand through his hair, knocking his crown off kilter. “You’re perfect… I mean, it’s perfect.”
He startled when Edmund stepped up behind her, still in the doorway. A laugh rumbled through his broad chest. “I can’t remember the last time I saw Alex flustered.” He pressed a light kiss to Etta’s cheek. “I think he’s trying to say you look ravishing.”
Alex shot him a forbidding look.
“My king.” Edmund was still grinning when he inclined his head. “Are we ready to depart?”
“Let’s get this over with.”
The royal family lined up to walk to the hall together—the dowager queen, the king, the prince and princess. Etta was a step behind them. Edmund and the other guards formed a protective barrier.
The large double doors to the hall stood open and as they entered, the room fell silent. It was packed with people in their finery and every one of them bowed immediately. Gaule was a realm that thrived on structure and tradition.
Alex’s voice boomed out. “Rise.” He gestured to the string quartet to resume playing and nodded to people on his way to the high table. Queen Catrine took her place to the king’s left and Camille moved for the seat on the right. Alex held out a hand to stop her. “That seat belongs to the protector.”
A low growl sounded in Camille’s throat. Her father used to let her sit in the honored place next to the king. She moved to the other side of her mother. Etta walked to the chair and Tyson nabbed the seat beside her.
She was officially entrenched in the Durand family.
Sweat slickened her palms as she scanned the gathering of Gauleans. These were the very ones who hunted magic folk. As they clustered together, were they conspiring against her people? Were their hearts so filled with fear and hate?
She studied each exit, making note of where the guards stood. It would take her less time to reach the doors than it’d take for them to realize what was happening and draw their weapons.
She shook her head. She wasn’t a prisoner, as much as she felt like one surrounded by the nobles of Gaule. But these weren’t the people, not truly. They were the ruling class. The armies might have carried out massacres and mass arrests during the purge, but they had orders. A breath shuddered out of her and she gave a weak smile to the man who leaned over to fill her wine glass.
With shaking fingers, she grasped the stem of the glass and brought it to her lips, in need of some liquid calming.
The first course came, but the food was too rich for her sour stomach. Alex barely spoke to her as the night wore on and more food was set in front of them. He looked like he wanted to be there even less than Etta did.
As the final dishes were whisked away, a hushed silence fell over the gathering and expectant eyes turned on the king. This was what they’d been waiting for; why they’d traveled so far. Their king was about to give his first speech.
Alex stood, clasping his hands in front of his chest. “Lords and Ladies of Gaule, I am honored by your presence.” His voice held a depth she hadn’t heard before. “My reign has begun during a trying time. My father, may he rest in peace, kept this kingdom safe for many years.”
Etta stared down at the table so her rolling eyes couldn’t be seen. Her father was the one who’d provided that protection.
Alex continued. “Darkness is coming. There is no stopping it this time. We have no wards and the ones who will come for us are armed with a far greater power than we could hope to have. It’s going to take the entire realm working together. We must root out this pestilence. We must defend our land from dark magic.”
A cheer rose up from the crowd and Etta’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the table. They didn’t hear what she did. Dark magic. Not magic. She watched him, this conflicted king.
“We must kill the magic folk,” someone yelled. Others voiced their agreement.
Alex’s face paled as more people spoke up and he lost control to his blood thirsty nobles. Gaule was more far gone than anyone thought and Alex was at the mercy of their desires.
“We must be careful,” he said. “Prepared. We do not want to repeat the horrors of the purge.”
“Why not?” a rotund man with graying hair said. “The purge was a great event in our history. You would do well, sire, to be more like your father.”
Alex reached for his wine goblet and raised it up. “To Gaule.” He drained it and set it heavily on the table as those in attendance followed suit.
Collapsing back into his chair, he ran a hand over his face.
“Don’t let them beat you down, My king.” A man led two rosy-cheeked girls toward the high table. “We all know you will carry on your father’s legacy and rulings. Your father was good at acting unaffected. You’d do well to practice that skill.”
Alex sat up straighter. “Lord Leroy,” he said. “It is a pleasure.”
“That’s better.” Lord Leroy nodded.
Alex pasted his usual charm across his face and looked to the girls with a wink. “Ladies, you both look like rare gems tonight.” One of the girls giggled, but the other only stared at the ground.
“That’s Alex’s betrothed,” Tyson said, leaning toward Etta to whisper. He pointed to the girl studying the ground. “Amalie.”
“Is she always so …” She didn’t need to finish.
“When she’s around my brother. She’s scared of him. She’s only fifteen, my age. They won’t be married for years yet, but my father and Leroy tied them to each other when she was a child.”
“You sound fond of her.”
He thought for a moment. “She’s kind–unlike the rest of her family. Her older sister, Liza is a friend of Camille’s. She’s married to a lord up North who is too old to travel to things like this. It was a cruel match, but it brought the Leroys a lot of money. She travels on his behalf and beds half the nobles while she’s at it.”
Etta let out a laugh, getting the attention of Lord Leroy and his daughters.
“Have I introduced you to my protector?” Alex asked.
Amalie raised her gray eyes to Etta’s and smiled softly. She had pale skin and a light dusting of freckles that created a delicate beauty. Etta was entranced. But if this girl was to be queen, she too would be an enemy of the Basiles.
“Hello.” Her voice held a musical lilt. Etta glanced sideways at Tyson who seemed to be under some sort of spell.
Liza grunted out a greeting.
Lord Leroy said nothing to her before turning back to the king. “Why don’t you and Amalie enjoy yourselves, sire. The dancing has begun.”
As if the speech and response were already forgotten, Alex stood and walked around the table before offering his betrothed his hand and leading her away. Her family followed them.
Etta was still watching them when Edmund stepped up to the table and ushered an exaggerated bow. “My lady, would you care to take pity on a poor guard and dance with him?”
Etta grinned. “I don’t know. I quite like my feet and don’t enjoy the thought of being trod over.”
He feigned insult and placed a hand over his heart. “I promise you will return with your feet intact.”
“In that case.” She let him guide her to the dance floor and take her into his arms.
He hadn’t been lying. As soon as he began to move, she knew he was as skilled on the dance floor as he was in the fighting arena. He moved with an impressive combination of power and grace.
The music sped up and exhilaration rushed through her as they glided through the steps. Her father spent many hours teaching her the court dances. He’d done everything to prepare her for life in service to the crown.
“I would have rescued you from your table sooner.” Edmund grinned. “But I got sidetracked. I didn’t want you to have to endure the boorish company of the king any longer than necessary.” He laughed and she realized the king and Amalie were next to them, moving in sync. Edmund glanced over her shoulder. “Oops, I’m afraid the king heard me.”
“You’re terrible.” Etta laughed.
“And you’re having a good time.” He spun her so they were out of hearing range from the king. “But seriously, he’s too worried. He loves these things. You know his reputation. It’s well-earned. He’s the smiling prince turned dour king. I’m worried about him.”
“Edmund, I admire how much you care. But he’s king now. He was bound to change. The weight of the kingdom rests on his shoulders.”
“The nobles don’t take him seriously yet. That’s his own fault, of course. He preferred parties and women to meetings at his father’s side. He’d rather have been sitting atop the walls with his sketches than in the practice yard. He was always seen as the joke. Even among the guards. He was supposed to have grown up and been more settled by the time he had to rule them.”
“We don’t choose our fates. It isn’t for us to decide when our destiny is upon us.”
“Then there’s the problem of having a beautiful woman following you around.” He winked. “But then, he’s royalty. He’s always been surrounded by alluring women. But the way he looks at you…” There was no pain in his voice. Edmund knew he was in love with a man he could never have, but all he wanted was the best for Alex.
Etta had never met a more honorable man. She took her hand from his and squeezed his shoulder. “He’s lucky to have you.”
“And you, Protector, are either going to be his salvation or his destruction.” He flicked his eyes toward Alex. “I’m going to go save both him and Amalie. Neither of them want to be forced together.”
He led them over and bowed slightly. “My king, may I dance with your betrothed?”
“That’s not up to me,” Alex said.
Edmund turned to Amalie who gave him a grateful smile and placed her hand in his.
They left Alex and Etta standing in the middle of the dance floor. Alex cleared his throat. “Would you like to dance?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
He leaned in. “And why not? Afraid to be seen having a good time? It might make people fear you a bit less, and we couldn’t have that.” He chuckled.
“You find yourself quite humorous, don’t you?” she asked.
He grinned and slid his hands around her waist to draw her in. “Humorous, no. Charming, absolutely.”
“Hmmm,” she said, allowing him to take her hand.
“No more excuses,” he whispered, pulling her closer. “I’ve been wanting to dance with you since you appeared at my door.”
A blush crept up her neck and her feet began to move.
Etta slid her free hand around his back, feeling his muscles bunch beneath his jacket.
He spun her across the dance floor as if they were the only two present. Her heart beat frantically and she wanted to be closer, so much closer. But she couldn’t. It took everything she had not to get lost in his touch.
Movement at the corner of the ballroom snapped her back to reality.
He slowed his dancing and caught sight of his sister and Anders conspiring in the shadows. There was no surprise in his eyes. “Camille has Anders using his men to search for magic folk inside Gaule.”
“Aren’t his men also yours?”
“Yes.” He snapped his eyes to her. “I’ve known about their arrangement since my father died. I know everything that goes on in this palace.”
A shiver raced through her. There were some things he didn’t know.
“Camille doesn’t trust me to deal with the problem. If she wasn’t family, she’d probably be in the dungeon.” He ran a tired hand over his jaw. “I need to find her a noble to marry and remove her from the castle, but she’s my sister. I don’t want to banish her.”
Etta touched his arm. “You have to weigh the harm she’ll cause against your love for her.” She hesitated. “The line between being a good man and a foolish one is drawn in sand. Easily erasable. Always movable. Never where you expect it to be.”
“Did you just call your king a foolish man?” One corner of his mouth curved up. “I could have you punished for that.”
“Then who would protect your dim-witted ass?”
His smile grew, and she matched it.
Looking toward the highborn ladies waiting along the wall, Etta shook her head. “There are others you should be dancing with.”
He followed her line of sight and she didn’t miss his grimace.
She hid her smile as she released him and stepped back. “Would it be okay for the protector to retire for the evening?”
“Yes, but you will leave behind a jealous king who most likely won’t be seeing his bed for some time yet.”
Etta laughed and inclined her head. “Have fun, your Majesty.”