The 7th Lie

by Tamara Grantham

  The man standing atop the dais looked in our direction. “Prince Morven Alexander Tremayne, son of the late king and queen, crown prince of Ithical Island,” he announced in a booming voice.

  Every eye in the room locked on him.

  Morven walked steadily, as if he’d done this a thousand times before, yet I kept my fingers flexed, expecting to grab his arm if I had to.

  His aunt sat at a table by herself, not far from us, a few empty chairs arranged by her. Her shrewd gaze stayed fixed on her nephew.

  Do not fall, she seemed to say.

  One step after another, he crossed the distance, my heart pounding with every footfall. After one last step, he sat in the chair by his aunt. I took a seat beside him, my stomach still twisting with nervousness, allowing my hands to rest on my lap without feeling I had to catch him. He’d done it. Now he only had to make it to another chair, sit through the dance, and that would be it.

  Once Cade got the key, we’d find a way to sneak out and unlock the tower. If Cade saw fit to help. One thing at a time. First, we had to sit and make small talk.

  “You’re late,” his aunt hissed through a forced smile, whispering so only we could hear.

  “Aren’t I always?” He mindlessly tapped his fork on his plate. “I hate to break habits, Aunt Tremayne. You know that.”

  She pressed her lips to form a thin line. “Where were you?”

  “I’d rather not answer.” He took a sip from his goblet. “It’s so much better to have mysteries to solve in life, isn’t it?”

  “You’re wearing down my patience,” she seethed. “If you’re not careful, I’ll have to demand you leave the ball early.”

  “Oh no. How horrible,” he said in a mocking tone. “Please don’t do such a dreadful thing. Leave the ball early? Whatever will I do?”

  I nearly choked while trying not to laugh. I grabbed a yeasted bun from a basket and took a bite to hide my smile.

  With a sigh, his aunt turned her sharp gaze on me. “Miss Harper, I see you’ve done nothing to teach him his place. It seems his attitude is growing worse.”

  “I didn’t realize I was supposed to be teaching him his place.”

  She huffed. “I hope you do realize it, or your time here will be cut short.”

  “I understand. He’s a stubborn student, but I’m trying my best.”

  Morven and I traded glances, sharing a secretive smile.

  “At least you made it to the table,” she whispered. “There are more nobles here tonight than I expected. I’d hate for them to see your chair, or else we’d be ruined forever.”

  “I fail to see how the sight of my chair would ruin us,” Morven said with a yawn.

  “You don’t?” Her eyes narrowed. “Well, that’s easy to understand. You don’t give one whit about procedure and propriety. How we’re to survive your reign is a frightening thought.”

  “I think it will turn out just fine.” He smiled reassuringly. “Besides, you’ve taught me everything you know. Just today I was threatening to fire the gardener. As you see, I catch on quickly. Fire the staff, and you’ll never have to worry about them.”

  “You’re mocking me,” she said through gritted teeth. “I won’t tolerate it.”

  I speared a roasted potato, then stuffed it in my mouth, chewing so I wouldn’t have to contribute to the conversation.

  As I ate, I watched her closely. If she were slipping poison into her nephew’s food, would she try to do it now?

  But if she had realized Morven was no longer eating his porridge, would she try to come at him in another way? If so, I would be watching.

  As the queen regent slowly chewed her food, I focused on the silver chain hanging around her neck, a key dangling from it. My stomach twisted in a nervous knot. No longer hungry, I placed my fork aside and scanned the room, searching for Cade. I didn’t spot him.

  When the meal ended, the man wearing the green robes stood on the dais once again.

  “Prepare for the dance.” His voice boomed through the chamber. After the servants cleared the food, they opened the doors to let in the other guests.

  More men and women wearing suits and dresses entered the ballroom.

  I self-consciously combed my fingers through my hair as the crowd grew, and I moved away from the table, choosing to stand by the wall and watch the dance from a distance.

  With the aid of a servant, Prince Morven strategically made it to a chair near the front. His aunt remained at his side. She kept her eyes on him, as if warning him not to move from where he sat. A group of people gathered around them and blocked my view.

  Chills prickled my skin as I lost sight of Morven. Why did it seem so much colder without him close?

  The queen regent moved to stand on the dais. Her voice carried as she gave a lengthy speech. I didn’t pay attention. Something about the green dragon, the monarchy, and copious amounts of her own achievements.

  My gaze wandered. The crowd gathered around Morven. What would it be like to go home and leave him behind? Emptiness tugged at me, a sensation that sent a chill down my spine. I’d never found anyone like him before. He was intelligent beyond his years, and he cared for his people more than he let on. Leaving him was something I didn’t want to ponder. I hugged my arms around me, trying to stop the loneliness from settling like a dark shadow.

  When the queen finished her speech, she sat beside Morven. Violins started playing a light tune. Near the orchestra stood men with bagpipes. As they played, the sound carried, a rich melody that stirred the soul.

  Dancers whirled in a blur of jewels and vibrant colors. Laughter and conversations echoed. I didn’t recognize any of the smiling men and women as they danced past me.

  Where was Cade? With any luck, he’d go without dancing and decide to get the queen regent’s key anyway. One could wish. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to dance with him, but I hated social gatherings. In high school, I’d always ended up standing alone and pretending to be okay with it—and here, halfway around the world, on a foreign island in the frozen Russian tundra, was no different.

  People brushed by on their way to the dance floor. Most songs were played with a lively beat, but others were slower, and partners danced closely. I paid attention to each dancer, at the way their bodies swayed with the music, the pattern their feet created, hoping I’d be able to copy the steps. Her right hand clasped to his left, his hand wrapping her waist, hers placed on his forearm. They moved in a square pattern, side to side, then a step back, then side to side in the opposite direction, and then forward again.

  Through the crowd, Cade appeared, grinning at me as he always did—showing the dimples around his mouth. I smiled back, but the fluttering butterflies were absent, a stark contrast to being with Morven.

  “Hello, Miss Sabine.” He bowed slightly, blending in with the other men in the room, dark suit, and a white shirt underneath with a raised, stiff collar.

  “Hello, Cade,” I answered with a smile. “I suppose you’ve come for your dance?”

  “I have.” He held out his hand. I hesitated, then I placed my hand in his, and we walked onto the floor.

  No problem. I could do this.

  Cade kept my hand in his, and he placed his other hand on my waist. I tensed, shocked by his closeness. With a forced smile, I placed my hand on his forearm. I was supposed to rest it on his forearm, right? Why had my mind blanked?

  He gently guided my hand to his arm. “You look nervous.”

  “I’m... just not used to dancing in a place this big. It’s overwhelming.”

  “I see.” He nodded. “What are the dances like in Fablemarch?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to say much. “Smaller.”

  “I would imagine they’re a bit livelier than this.”

  “Sometimes.” I smiled, trying to come up with something to change the subject. “I see the flowers were arranged in time.”

  “Yes.” He sighed. “I don’t want to look at another tulip for the rest of my life. Sometimes I wis
h I could have a simpler life. I wouldn’t mind living in a place like Fablemarch, to be honest. Do you think anyone in your village needs a gardener?”

  I cleared my throat. “Maybe.” We were on the subject of my pretend village again. How’d that happen?

  “I’ve been at the palace too long.” His eyes roved the room. “Sometimes it seems impossible to leave. Don’t get me wrong, I like it well enough, but I think I need a change of scenery from time to time.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  He went on about his duties as gardener—specific details of watering schedules and shipment arrivals. I only half-listened, preferring instead to gawk at the couples surrounding us. I spotted Morven sitting smugly next to his aunt, arms crossed in his usual defensive position, his eyes boring into mine. Did he have to look so completely hateful? He’d known I was going to dance with Cade. Maybe he didn’t like it, but he didn’t have to stare daggers at me. What did he expect me to do anyway? Cade was getting his aunt’s key for us. He’d asked for a dance, and I’d agreed.

  “What do you think?” Cade asked, breaking my attention away from the prince.

  “Sorry.” I blinked. “About what?”

  He only shook his head. “Nothing. It wasn’t important. It seems your attention is somewhere else.” He glanced at the prince.

  “Oh, well, maybe a little.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  I sighed. “It’s just that I’m his caretaker, you know. I worry about him, even though he doesn’t deserve it. You know how rude he is.”

  Cade shrugged. “But he seems to have taken up with you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s attracted to you.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. “That can’t possibly be true. He treats me just as rudely as he does everyone else.”

  “No. He doesn’t. For one thing, he acknowledges you exist. For another thing, he can’t take his eyes off you. I can’t blame him really. You’re different from most young ladies in the city—or anywhere, to be honest.”

  Panic made my throat tighten. “I’m not all that different.”

  “Aren’t you? You speak differently, dress differently.” He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair, his hands trailing down my cheek, brushing my skin and the top of my exposed collar bone. Such an intimate expression unnerved me, and I had the urge to push him away, as if he were doing something I hadn’t given him permission to do. Maybe I should have been flattered. Truthfully, the opposite sex had avoided me for most of my life. Cade was attractive and sweet, but his touch didn’t make butterflies dance through my stomach. Not the way Morven did with only a look.

  The song ended. I breathed a sigh of relief as he walked me off the dance floor.

  “I’ll be asking the queen regent for a dance now,” he said, leaning so he had to whisper in my ear. “When the next song ends, I’ll hand the key off to you. But you’ll have to hurry and unlock the door, then return it to me. When I give it back to her, I’ll say I found it on the dance floor, and she must’ve dropped it. Hopefully, it won’t make her too suspicious.”

  “I understand,” I whispered back.

  His body heat warmed me. With the close contact and whispering, it was a wonder people didn’t get the wrong impression about us.

  He brushed a kiss across my cheek, then turned and strode straight for the queen regent who sat at her post beside Morven. I rubbed my cheek where he’d kissed me, my fingertips cold on the warm, tingling spot.

  When he reached the queen regent, Cade dipped into a deep bow. Although I couldn’t hear his words over the music, she replied with a strained smile, gave Morven a dark look, then accepted Cade’s hand and stood.

  At least he’d gotten her to dance. With any luck, taking the key would go just as smoothly.

  Morven sat alone. He kept his gaze pinned straight ahead and locked his jaw. I decided now was a good time to humor His Majesty and let him know my true feelings for Cade. He was getting worked up for nothing.

  “Hello, Morven,” I said as I wandered near him.

  “Hmm,” he grunted, hands clasped in front of him, tendons straining beneath his skin.

  I stood by him. “You could at least say hello.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Why are you frowning?” I asked. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  “You sound like my aunt.”

  “I’m trying to cheer you up.”

  “Good luck with that,” he muttered, then clenched his jaw once again, the way he did when he was annoyed with something. Why did I find it attractive? The strong line of his jaw and the firm resolve. The righteous anger. Obviously, something was wrong with me.

  I knelt to be eye-level, resting my hand on his. “Are you jealous?” I asked quietly.

  “I’m not jealous,” he answered too quickly.

  “Then what’s the matter?” I spoke with a soft voice, hoping he heard my sincerity.

  “I hate dances, that’s all.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I would much rather be up in the tower with my charts.”

  I’d much rather be in the tower with the charts too, but for different reasons. “Is that the only reason? I think you’re upset because Cade danced with me.”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  “Don’t let it get to you. It was a dance. It didn’t mean anything.”

  He glanced at me.

  “I’d rather spend time with you.”

  His brow scrunched in confusion. “Are you toying with me?”

  “I’m being honest. I like being with you more than him.”

  “Why?” he asked, as if I’d just admitted something untrue—like I enjoyed getting sunburns.

  “Because you’re more intelligent than most people,” I said honestly. “I think education is important.”

  “But I insult you every chance I get.”

  I stood, sighing. “Then it’s a good thing I’m skilled at ignoring you.”

  He gave me an odd expression, as if he couldn’t decide if I told the truth. He turned away from me to focus on his aunt dancing with Cade. The key reflected the chandelier’s light, still hanging around her neck. Cade spoke animatedly, and she smiled, a half-quirking of her lips, so odd-looking on her usually stoic face.

  Beside me, Morven’s chair scooted. He grabbed the armrests and pushed up to stand.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, surprised.

  “I have to do this,” he answered with purpose.

  My eyes widened. “Do what?”

  “You’re going to dance with me.”

  “What?” I gasped. “Morven, you can’t.”

  “Actually, I can.”

  He grabbed my arm to steady himself. I looked up into his eyes, realizing how much taller he was than me, wondering why I’d just now noticed it. Was he really so jealous of Cade that he felt he needed to prove himself?

  “Will you dance with me, Sabine?” His deep voice resonated from his broad chest, and I reminded myself to breathe.

  “I—yes, but will you be okay?”

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Plus, this way, my aunt will be distracted, won’t she?”

  Ah, this made sense now. He didn’t actually want to dance with me. This was a ruse to distract his aunt, and by the way she looked at him, her smile gone, fire in her eyes, I’d say it was working.

  He led me to the dance floor. Everyone stopped dancing to watch us walk to the center. Embarrassment rushed through me. I glanced at the hallway, to the shadows where I could hide. But Morven held my hand, and if I let go, he might fall. When we walked past his aunt, her seething, hate-filled expression focused on us.

  The bagpipes and violins combined to create a stirring, haunting symphony. Morven held my waist in a firm grip as we began dancing. Surprisingly, I didn’t stumble as he led the dance, and neither did he. With his hand gripping mine, and my stomach fluttering, I reminded myself to keep breathing. Worries nagged at me. What if he fell? What if his aunt fired me over this?

/>   But those worries melted away as the music played and we swayed to its beat, our feet working in square patterns across the floor.

  Morven moved fluidly, as if he’d never been paralyzed. He grasped my hand with firmness, his skin warm, the pads of his fingers callused from gripping the wheels of his chair.

  I became aware of every place he touched my body—the heat of his flesh on my hand, warmth spreading through the layer of silk to the place where he touched my waist. Butterflies fluttered uncontrollably through my stomach.

  His presence barraged my senses, overwhelming me. Instinctively, I reacted by picturing the pages of a book to calm my hypersensitivity, to dull the sensations that struck me like bolts of lightning.

  But what would happen if I didn’t? What if I allowed myself to experience everything about him?

  Letting go of my defenses, I allowed myself to exhale, releasing my inhibitions. Instead, the scent of his cologne—seductive, wild, and mysterious—enveloped me. His eyes—dark, intelligent depths that held me motionless in the web of his spell. The firm strength of his hand placed on my waist, making my skin tingle at his closeness through the thin layer of silk.

  A twinkle lit his eyes as he focused on me. “You’re a good dancer.”

  “Thank you,” I answered, lightheaded.

  His thumb slowly moved over the back of my hand, caressing my skin. My stomach twisted into impossible knots. The sensations overwhelmed me until I couldn’t hear the music, couldn’t see anything but the darkness of his pupils drinking me in, couldn’t feel anything except his skin.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Fine.” It was the only reply I could make.

  I stayed focused on him. Everything about him enchanted me. How would it feel to kiss him?

  As we danced past the other couples, their eyes locked on us. Shocked expressions filled their faces.

  “They all think I don’t dance,” he explained, as if reading my thoughts. “Not because I couldn’t, but because I chose not to. Because I was too proud to dance with anyone.”

  “Because they didn’t know you were in the chair?”