by K. S. Thomas
A few minutes later, I’m folding the sheet of paper with my scribblings into my pocket and heading for the door just in time to meet Soren when he swings it open to announce, “Time’s up.”
“Thank you. I have a watch. I can tell time.”
“Could have fooled me,” he mutters under his breath, ushering me out into the hall and closing the door behind us.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Greer’s voice greets me as soon as I step foot outside my quarters.
“What are you doing?” I ask, sounding aghast. “How am I supposed to come and pick you up to take you to our formal date if you’re not in your room?”
“Are you seriously asking me to go back inside just so I can walk back out upon invitation?”
I clench my teeth to keep from grinning. “No. That would be ridiculous.”
She stares at me for several seconds. Then she rolls her eyes, spins on her heel, and walks back into her room.
After the door closes behind her, I give it a slow count to five, before I knock and wait for her to answer.
“One moment please,” she calls back from inside.
I almost laugh out loud, but Soren shoots me a smug grin and I stop myself to deny him the satisfaction.
“Almost there,” she follows up her stalling with more stalling.
I’m about to knock a second time when the door opens again. To my surprise, now it’s Katia who greets me on the other side.
“Please, come in, your highness,” she says, stepping aside and waving me in. “Miss Greer will be with you shortly.”
Behind me, Soren is laughing.
Katia is kind enough to shut the door on him the second I step inside.
“Would you mind telling me how Miss Greer is keeping busy?” I ask Katia, who almost certainly knows Greer is having fun at my expense. Though, I must admit, she’s unusually relaxed, given the circumstances.
“She’s taking steps to be fashionably late, your highness.” Katia curtsies, excusing herself to leave me to fend for myself in the entryway. “I’ll see if I can assist her in some way.”
“Wait. No.” Assisting her in delaying our departure for dinner further isn’t quite the help I was hoping for.
But it’s no use. She walks away without acknowledging whether she’s heard me or not.
Seconds pass that seem to stretch into eons before I finally hear the sound of heels making their way down the stairs toward me.
I’m fully prepared to sternly inform her that we really don’t have time for her ridiculous games when she comes into view. And my reaction to the sight, is one I’m woefully unprepared for.
“You changed your dress,” I say, nearly stumbling over those four small words.
“Well, you hardly took notice of the last one,” she jokes, reaching the last step and walking toward me. “Hell, you even sent me back in my room.”
Her previous dress was nice enough. A simple, maroon gown my stepmother clearly had a hand in choosing, but which Greer still wore beautifully because she’s Greer and everything that touches her becomes beautiful. But this -
“There’s no way the queen approved this gown,” I say when nothing else comes to mind. At least, nothing I can say out loud. To Greer.
“She did,” Katia confirms, a strange smirk stretching her usually stern lips. “Well, she approved the two gowns that originally made up this one,” she explains. “We decided to take the sheer lace cover from one and paired it with the slip of the other.”
“Pretty creative, huh?” Greer winks at me.
“Uh-huh.” I can see now how each piece would have been suitable by the queen’s standards when paired with something else. The champagne-colored lace cover climbs Greer’s neck and ends in a delicate ruffle under her chin. While it’s fitted on the top, it flares at the waist and would swallow her whole if paired with heavier material in the same cut. Which it’s not. Instead, she’s wearing it with a tiny black number that leaves little to the imagination between the form-fitting cut, the low neckline and particularly short hemline cutting high across her thighs.
“Best part of all.” Greer stretches one foot forward to show off her shoes. “I was able to wear my own black pumps instead of the abominations now buried in the back of my closet.”
“Yeah.” I’m still struggling to find words. I’m barely formulating real thoughts.
“Shall we?” She grins. Like she knows exactly what she’s done to me. Like she’s loving every second of it.
“Yes.” I swallow several times. When did my mouth get this dry?
“Your highness?” Katia asks from behind me, and I turn back over my shoulder to look at her. “Your father had this sent to the room. I was told to give it to Soren before dinner, but since you’re here.” She hands me a small velvet box and my heart stops.
The ring. I very specifically rushed the process of choosing it when my father insisted on taking me down to the vault this afternoon. I hardly even looked at it, just asked to see what was available and chose the first one that caught my eye. My father tried repeatedly to sway me toward my mother’s ring, but that was a leap in our lie I wasn’t prepared to take. In the end, I think his feelings were hurt, as if I was implying the ring was bad luck in some way, given the way their marriage ended. I appeased my guilt by reminding myself that I was coming back for that ring someday. When I was really engaged.
Only now, that I’m standing here, about to put a ring on Greer’s finger – a meaningless ring – all I can think is how I should have chosen my mother’s.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
GREER
Lachlan hasn’t said a word since we left my room. He barely even looked at me when he slid the ring on my finger. Of course, I’ve barely been able to look at said ring. Mostly, I’m just trying to deny its existence. It’s too much. Too surreal. Or maybe that’s the problem. It’s not surreal at all. It’s real. Too real. Too heavy on my finger.
“Get your speech all written?” I ask, trying to break the dreadful silence between us. Normally, when we’re quiet, it feels comfortable. Tonight, it feels suffocating.
“Yep.”
Still one-word answers. Maybe the prospect of dinner and a formal announcement is making him more nervous than I thought it would. “Soren said you were having a hard time with it,” I start. His head jerks in my direction, scowling, and I instantly regret it. “If you’re worried you won’t sound profoundly in love with me, I’m sure I can spin something on the spot to make up for it,” I try to smooth it over.
He sighs, facing ahead again. “I wish Soren hadn’t told you that.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” I insist. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy trying to balance sounding convincing without sounding over the top.”
“Yeah.”
“Dude, what is happening right now?” I tug at his arm playfully, trying my hardest to loosen him up a bit. “I get that you’re all regal Lachlan here in Linden, but I know you’re not lacking in your vocabulary. Prince Lachlan is just as chatty as New York Lachlan, even if he is a little short on the humor in comparison.”
“You don’t think I’m funny here?” he asks, head only slightly dipping in my direction to meet my eye. It’s less abrupt than the previous head jerk and while he’s not smiling with his mouth, I can see the shine of it in his baby blues again.
“Ah, nice deflecting,” I tease. But I roll with it. Because I’d still rather the avoiding Lachlan over the stoic, silent Lachlan. “And you know you’re not.”
Gradually, the energy around him shifts and by the time we’re approaching the grand hall, things begin to feel normal between us again.
This part of the castle is new to me, though truthfully, I’m not sure I would have noticed if I didn’t specifically know I was at the grand dining hall to which I have previously not been. The décor around here, as well as the architecture, make it nearly impossible to tell one hall from the other.
“You look amazing tonight,” he says quietly as we nea
r the tall double doors. “You always look beautiful, but that dress, and the way you shine wearing it... it took my breath away. And all my words went with it.”
His palm presses against mine and his eyes cast down to meet our hands, twined into one.
Then the doors open. And the magic of our moment ceases to exist so instantly, I can’t help but wonder if it was real at all.
“Mom?” I’m so startled by the sight of her, I don’t know if I’m screaming or whispering. I also don’t know how to move anymore. A fact I notice when I see Lachlan turn back for me.
“Greer, darling.” My mother stands from her seat at the table where she’s been placed at the queen’s side. Even in my state of shock, I can piece together that her majesty is behind my mother’s sudden appearance.
“It’s so wonderful to see you.” She walks toward me, arms outstretched. “You’re so grown up. Look at you, you’re gorgeous.”
I’m desperate to step out of her path, but the sudden lead in my veins is making movement impossible. Thankfully, Lachlan catches up to the situation and blocks her before she reaches me. “I didn’t know we’d have a guest for dinner,” his voice cuts loudly across the room.
“It was intended as a surprise,” the queen responds with a snide satisfaction I haven’t heard from her since she tricked me into spending four hours listening to every rendition of Linden’s national anthem ever recorded two days ago. “Once I learned that Greer has been separated from her mother since childhood, of course I had to do everything in my power to reunite them.” She smiles but it does little to disguise her hatred. And she does hate me. I am, after all, the villain in her tale, come to aid her evil stepson in stealing the crown from the prince she gave birth to. “Consider it an early wedding gift.”
I watch as Lachlan’s entire back stiffens and his shoulders square off even broader and straighter than they already do with his normal posture. With him between us and my mother’s face out of my line of vision, I can start to think clearly again.
My thoughts are racing trying to find a way out of this emotional maze. I didn’t see this coming when I stepped inside the grand hall tonight.
I watch Lachlan’s leg move, on the verge of stepping forward and I know he’s about to lunge into an all-out verbal war with the queen on my behalf. That’s when I realize. There’s no way out.
So, I jump in. Headfirst. Because the only way to escape the maze, is through.
“I’m touched, your majesty,” I say quickly before Lachlan can make his next move. “Truly. It’s a gesture far and beyond anything anyone has ever done for me.” Placing my hand on his shoulder, I start to step around him to face my own mother. I can’t look at him as I go by. I don’t dare let him see what’s inside me because I know his eyes will reflect it back to me. And I won’t be able to numb myself to my own feelings when he’s feeling them for me.
“Mom,” I bite out forcing a smile. “I can’t believe you’ve come all this way.” Especially when she couldn’t ever make it three blocks east to see me growing up. But I keep that part unspoken between us.
“It’s your wedding,” she says as if that would make her presence a given. “Where else would I be?”
My mind is already reeling with possible truths, the real reason she agreed to come. The queen must have enticed her with something. Or maybe it was enough to hear her only daughter was about to be royalty.
“I can’t tell you what this means to me,” I clutch my chest, and I can’t help but think how easy it is to say so many honest things in such an untruthful way. Lachlan moves in closer behind me, his hand resting protectively on my waist. “Mom, it is my great honor to introduce you to my fiancé, Prince Lachlan of Linden.”
I’m not actually sure if that’s the proper way to introduce your royal fake fiancé to your estranged mother and his future fake mother-in-law, but it’s the best I can do on the spot. I notice the queen didn’t erupt in a derisive snort at the table, so it must have been acceptable. At least, under the circumstances.
My mother drops her gaze and lowers herself into a dramatic curtsy. “Your highness, it’s an honor and truly a delight.”
“Lachlan,” I turn, for the first time meeting his gaze. “My mother. Esther Howards.” It sounds weird, hearing the name out loud. She was Esther Deluca when she was my mother. Then she left us. Remarried. Became Esther Howards and I never saw reason to speak her name again. She was a stranger.
Even now, standing right in front of her, she feels like one. A stranger with my mother’s face. It’s surreal.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lachlan says through gritted teeth, extending his hand toward her. “Please, the formalities won’t be necessary. After all, we’re about to be family.”
My mother smiles and it’s all the proof I need my suspicions were spot on. She’s here for her piece of the royal pie. The irony of this isn’t lost on me. In fact, it’s almost a bit of silver lining, realizing she’s come all this way for something she was brought here to ensure I can never give to her.
“Shall we?” I ask, directing my upturned palm toward the table and the rest of our dinner party. It’s the lady like way to point. I’m positive. It’s the way Soren does it.
My mother wastes no time reclaiming her chair beside the queen. Clearly, she’s as of yet unaware of the royal step monster’s tendencies.
“I don’t know how you’re keeping it together right now,” Lachlan’s deep voice rumbles quietly in my ear as he leans in close while helping me into my seat across from my mother. “But you’re amazing.”
I turn to catch him with a kiss against his cheek before he moves away again. “Thank you.” I don’t whisper. Just let everyone think I’m appreciating his gentlemanly gesture.
In turn, he softly grazes the side of my head with his lips before straightening up and pulling out the chair beside mine for himself.
From here, the formalities ensue in an extravagant fashion beyond anything I’ve witnesses so far during my time here.
There are trumpets. A maître d’ who announces every item before it is served. Countless men and women, rushing in and out to serve and clear all while a live orchestra plays softly in the background.
Only once we’ve completed seven courses of food and beverages, do we get to the heart of the matter and the reason we’ve all been forced to gather together tonight. The formal announcement of our engagement.
LACHLAN
GREER HASN’T BEEN THE same since being confronted with her mother. Even though she covered her shock nearly seamlessly, I know inside, she must be battling a sense of betrayal unlike any other. And though it didn’t come through me directly, I can’t help feeling responsible.
If I hadn’t brought her here, if I hadn’t agreed to let her take up this fight with me against my stepmother, none of this would be happening.
I watch as she goes through the motions making small talk with my sister-in-law, smiling at my father, even going so far as to include her mother in conversation by asking her questions, even if they are trivial and shallow and never extend beyond the context of her trip or her enjoyment of the current weather. She does it. She puts on a remarkable show. I notice even the queen is oddly spellbound by her.
It’s hard to describe how I feel sitting beside Greer. Taking in her strength, observing her talent for playing her part so perfectly even under duress. Maybe it’s not hard to describe. Maybe it’s hard to face. I’m in awe of her. And if I’m honest, tonight isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way.
It is, however, the first time since we arrived, that I’ve seen so clearly the contrast between who she is and who Linden has made her become. I didn’t realize it until now but watching her come down those stairs tonight in that gown, was the first time since we arrived here, she looked like herself. And not just because the gown reflected her style instead of the queen’s. It was in the way she walked, sauntering down those steps with her usual sass and confidence. The way she carried herself with that magic co
mbination of grace and humor. And the way she looked at me. It was the same way she did that day in her father’s bookstore making me a deal I couldn’t refuse. Whether it was because the offer was too good to be true, or she was the one making it, I may never know.
Then seeing her here, sitting beside me, every bit the future queen I asked her to play, I can’t help seeing she’s doing more than just acting a part anymore. Where before she was formal and reserved, now she’s simply void of feeling. Even while wearing a dress that screams of her vibrant personality, life here with me, has made her disappear.
Suddenly I understand my father’s need to let my mother go in a way I never wanted to. It’s both poetic and heartbreaking, finding that the moment I finally understand I always want to keep her with me is the very same I know I can never let her stay.
“Lachlan?” Greer’s hand brushes against mine, pulling me from my thoughts and back to the present.
It takes me another second to realize she’s not the one trying to get my attention as much as my father is.
“If that isn’t a man in love,” he chuckles, shaking his head at me. “So consumed by the beauty of his woman the rest of the room has ceased to exist.” He smiles, standing from his chair at the head of the table and raising his glass toward me. “It is my great honor to invite Lachlan to share with us tonight, his most exciting news.” He gestures for me to stand.
“Thank you, father.” I smile graciously when I reach my full height. “But I’m the one who is honored. Honored to be here in your presence tonight and include you in what will undoubtedly become the most significant moment of my life.” I turn toward Greer who beams up at me. Her eyes are big and bright. But they’re empty. It takes everything I have to keep smiling as I go on. “Please allow me the pleasure of formally introducing you to Greer Philladora Deluca, my fiancée.”
A polite round of applause ensues, and I wait for everyone to quiet down before I continue. “I prepared a speech for the occasion,” I pause to retrieve the folded paper from my breast pocket. Then, halfway, I change my mind and slide it back into place. “Perhaps it’s best to just let the words come straight from my heart.” I break my eyes from hers and face the table. I can lie to everyone here. I just can’t lie to her. Or myself anymore.