Marisa smiled and curtseyed to Domenico. As they strolled out onto the dance floor, she deliberately avoided Savino’s stare.
“Although I cannot speak your language, milady, I was delighted to hear from Prince Darian that you are learning ours,” Domenico commented softly.
She smiled and nodded. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for Savino. There he was—over by the refreshments and still watching them closely. No matter what happened, she could not let Savino see her lips moving.
“It has been many months since I danced with such a beautiful woman,” he continued. “I’m afraid I might be a little out of practice.”
Something in Domenico’s voice made her forget about Savino for the moment. She looked in his eyes and saw hope. This was a man with his own story. He wasn’t Darian’s clone—he was distinctly his own person. He had endearing features such as the dimple on his chin and the crinkles in the corner of his dark brown eyes.
“What is your first name, Lord Domenico?” she asked.
He stared at her, puzzled.
She pointed to herself, “Marisa MacCallum.” Then she pointed to him. “Domenico—”
“Ah, yes. My name is Luca. Luca Domenico.”
“Luca.” She smiled. “Luca Domenico. What a nice name.”
He grinned. “Although I do not understand half of what you are saying, milady, when you speak my name, it sounds so intriguing.”
Marisa smiled at him and realized there might just be life post-Darian after all. She had to admit she was attracted to Domenico and wanted to know him better. Perhaps she would get the opportunity once she left the castle. But she was getting way too ahead of herself.
“I hope you shall afford me this pleasure again in the future,” Domenico said with a broad smile. After the dance had ended, he kissed her hand and Marisa was amused. He certainly was charming.
A cold hand touched her shoulder.
“Lady Marisa—may I have the honor of this next dance?”
Marisa turned and sucked in her breath. Even with a mask almost covering them, Savino’s ice-blue eyes were hypnotizing. She curtseyed and he led her to out to the dance floor. Her hands were trembling.
“Alone at last,” Savino joked as he saw the crowds of people watching them. “You are absolutely stunning this evening, Lady Marisa. Was this dress of your own design, or did my cousin pick it out for you?”
Marisa motioned that she had chosen the dress.
“It appears that everyone in the kingdom has come to your birthday party,” he said. “People are exceedingly curious to know who you truly are.”
She raised the mask to her face and avoided his gaze. Unable to see his expression, she was glad he couldn’t see hers.
“I’m so looking forward to getting to know you better once we’re married. And I’m especially looking forward to the wedding night,” he whispered.
At his words, she cringed. The wine had gone right to her head and she was starting to feel groggy. She searched the sea of faces but couldn’t find Darian anywhere. A wave of nausea filled her head. She had to get out of there and find someplace to sit down.
Savino stopped as a look of recognition registered in his eyes.
“Do you know, I have the strange feeling that we’ve met somewhere before,” he said suspiciously. He stared into her face as he tried to remember where he’d seen her before.
Marisa shrugged nervously, tried to act casual. She scanned the room frantically but still there was no sign of Darian in the packed hall.
He was here just a minute ago—where did he go?
Savino shook his head. “No, I must be mistaken. I’m quite certain we’ve never met before you came to Abbadon, so I must be thinking of someone else.”
A sense of panic began to rise up inside her as she thought about her dream earlier that afternoon. She knew what Savino was thinking, and what he was about to ask, and what she was going to say, and how he’d react—
“So, I believe it’s time for you to give me an answer to my proposal, Lady Marisa,” he said. “Will you be my bride and share the throne with me as my queen?” He bowed deeply before her as several people ceased their conversations and turned to watch. The hall suddenly grew silent.
Marisa gulped. Garon give me strength. Don’t leave me now.
She stopped dancing and took a step back. All sets of eyes in the room were fixed on her. Her hand shook as she slowly lowered her mask to gaze into Savino’s crystal blue eyes—beautiful eyes that she knew were connected to a cold heart. Dipping into a deep curtsey of respect, she shook her head and stared at the floor, too terrified to see his reaction.
Savino stopped and his body stiffened. He said nothing for a moment but then raised himself up to his full height and glared at her like a stone statue.
Marisa slowly lifted her gaze. The expression on his face was the same one she’d seen in her nightmare that afternoon.
And now it was coming true.
CHAPTER 29
DISCLOSURE
“WHAT!” SAVINO SHOUTED AT her in anger. She took a step backward as a flurry of whispers shot back and forth across the room. A wave of nausea, which had begun in her stomach, was now slowly rising toward her head.
“How dare you reject me, you ungrateful wench!”
“Savino—stop this at once!” Darian said loudly, rushing to Marisa’s side. “She has a right to answer you any way she so desires.”
“This is your fault, Darian,” Savino screamed. “You have made her refuse me!”
“I’ve done nothing of the sort,” Darian said, removing his mask. “The decision is her own.”
“There shall be no peace treaty, and neither shall you ascend the throne. This is an act of war, and I hold you both responsible!”
“Cousin, lower your voice. Let us discuss this in private.”
Savino ignored Darian and approached Marisa, stabbing angrily at her with his finger. “You have humiliated your future king. I shall never forget this,” he hissed.
Darian motioned to the guards. “Arrest this man, but do not remove him until he has heard what I have to say.”
The guards moved to shackle Savino’s hands together. As he struggled to resist, he was still spewing venom at Darian.
“Cousin, you too shall regret what you did here today!”
Darian ignored him.
“Lords, knights, ladies, and gentlemen—may I have your attention, please?” he announced in a loud voice.
The storm of chatter and whispers quickly died down.
“As you all are already aware, tonight you have been invited here to celebrate the eighteenth birthday of a remarkable woman, the Lady Marisa MacCallum. I would like to thank you all for coming to meet her and to help us celebrate on this joyous occasion.
“What you aren’t yet aware of is that we are also gathered here to celebrate a new beginning and a new chapter in the history of our country.”
Marisa’s legs wobbled underneath her as she fought to remain standing. The queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach had already risen to her head, and everything was starting to swirl around her. Her eyes searched the room for an empty chair as Darian continued.
“For too many years, our lands have suffered in a state of turmoil. For too long, our nation has suffered from a lack of leadership and under the banner of oppression.” The guests were becoming restless as noisy whispers resonated through the large hall.
Darian held up his hands to silence the crowds.
“Tonight everything is about to change. This evening we shall begin uniting the country once again and picking up the pieces.”
As the crowds broke out into spontaneous cheering and clapping, Marisa wanted to fade into the woodwork.
I’m gonna hurl right here in front of all these important people.
“It is especially fitting that we are celebrating tonight with a masked ball, for this evening represents the literal unmasking of the future of our country. It is my highest honor and privile
ge to present to you our true sovereign ruler who, by the mercy and might of Garon, has been returned safely to us—”
The bile rose in her throat as she scanned for the nearest exit.
“—Her Royal Highness Princess Maraya Fiore; daughter of Queen Elyse Fiore and King Alano Macario; future queen and Supreme Ruler of all the lands of Crocetta and Abbadon.”
Darian moved in front of Marisa and solemnly sunk down on one knee. Gasps erupted from every corner of the great hall as the guests watched Adalina and Helena follow his lead. Mother and daughter lowered themselves into a deep curtsey in front of Marisa.
Marisa was speechless as a wave of sound and motion rippled through the Knights’ Hall. Every person was either bowing or curtseying to the simple girl from Oregon.
Except one.
In a stance of defiance, Savino eyed her coldly.
“Impossible!” he hissed. “This is all madness and lies! Princess Maraya drowned years ago when the Carnelian capsized. There is no possible way you can prove this ordinary girl is Maraya come back from the dead!”
Marisa felt detached, almost as if she were watching some scene unravel in front of her like a movie on TV. Her mind simply refused to accept what was happening. Both her mind and body became paralyzed with shock.
Darian rose to his feet and lifted a velvet pouch in the air.
“Princess Maraya has returned, and with her, she has brought back the lost Fiore Veritas ring, which will show you all the truth.”
He emptied the contents of the pouch into the palm of his hand and held it out for Marisa to see.
“My mother’s ring! You found it!” she cried.
Savino stared at her in horror. “You can speak? What is that strange language? What is this chicanery?” he shrieked.
The guests chattered loudly as they all tried to catch a glimpse of the ring. Darian held the sparkling diamond up for everyone to see. Taking Marisa’s hand, he slipped it on her finger, and immediately the stone transformed from clear diamond to a deep purple. A wave of commotion exploded through the hall as people in the crowds began to shout. “It’s true! She is the rightful heir!”
Marisa stared down at the ring, mesmerized by the pulsating violet-colored gem on her finger. She looked up at Darian and shook her head in disbelief.
He nodded to her softly. “Marisa, it’s true. You are the Princess Maraya Fiore, rightful heir to the throne of Crocetta and the young lady to whom I was betrothed when we were just children.”
“This is trickery! Prince Darian is using witchcraft to fool us all!” Savino cried.
“Savino—hold thy tongue!” a man’s booming voice shouted from the entrance of the Knights’ Hall.
Marisa froze. Her eyes widened as she turned to see the face belonging to the voice she already recognized.
“Uncle Al?” she asked weakly. “What are you doing here?”
Cinzia was weeping. “Alessio? Is that really you?” she cried.
Her uncle’s eyes locked on Cinzia and a broad smile spread across his face. The crowd parted as the man that Marisa knew as Uncle Al strode across the room toward Cinzia. She flung herself into his arms and everyone smiled as they locked in a tight embrace.
Marisa watched dumbly as Arrie ran over to hug Uncle Al. Then she noticed another familiar figure casually sauntering over to them.
“Mark! How did you get here!” she squeaked.
Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. It could have been from the tightness of the corset, the wine, or from just complete shock. But whatever it was, the last thing she saw was the glittering chandeliers above them. A curtain of blackness fell in front of her eyes and all the sounds going on around her faded away into silence.
Darian lunged to catch her as she slumped to the ground.
Marisa’s head was swimming. She opened her eyes to find she was lying in a large antechamber with Princess Adalina next to her, holding her hand. She heard the muffled sounds of music, people and laughter in the adjacent room.
“Oh, Marisa, I am so glad you’re all right. Please don’t move while I go fetch my brother.”
Adalina ran from the room, returning a couple moments later with Darian, her uncle, Cinzia, Arrie, and Mark. Uncle Al was the first to reach her.
“There you are, my darlin’ Risa. Are you feeling a little bit better now?” he asked, stroking her hair. “This must all be pretty overwhelming for you.”
“Uncle Al, how did you get here?” she whimpered.
“Shhh—just be quiet now. You need to relax so you can go back to the party.”
“Hey, sis! Just what have you managed to get yourself into here?” Mark asked, grinning at her.
“But how did you two get here?”
“Celino came and got us,” Mark said. “I was freakin’ the day you disappeared, but Uncle Al kept sayin’ things would be okay and that we would find you.”
“I’m so glad to see you,” Marisa said. “You have no idea.”
She leaned around Mark and saw Darian standing at the back of the room, quietly listening to the conversation. She looked at him knowingly. “How did you do it?”
Sensing it was a private moment, the others quietly slipped out.
Darian shrugged. “It wasn’t me—Celino brought them here. He deserves all the credit. But Marisa, are you ready to return to the ball? There are many people out there who have come a long way to meet you,” he said.
“Darian, is this really true?”
He leaned in close to her. “Everything I said out there is the truth. You are the Princess Maraya Fiore.”
“Why can’t I remember any of it?”
He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. But you were very young when it happened. Perhaps you simply purged it from your memory.”
“But why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Marisa demanded. “All this time we’ve been together, and you never said a word. Why?”
Darian softly caressed her hand. “The timing wasn’t right, and you weren’t ready to hear the truth. You wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told you.”
“How long have you known?”
“Mmm, probably since the day we met. I thought I recognized you that first day on the road—you looked so much like your mother. And that same evening at the inn when I saw the ring, I figured it couldn’t be a coincidence. There were so many added clues along the way—your father, Uncle Al, Mark, and of course, your mother’s royal diary.”
“The book was my mother’s?”
His eyes sparkled. “Do you remember the morning we broke camp with the warriors? I was in your tent and found your mother’s diary. When I saw your Crocine record of royal birth stuck between the pages, it confirmed what I already knew to be true—that you were indeed Maraya.”
“But why would you—”
“Marisa, although I would love to keep you all to myself right now, I’m afraid we must rejoin our guests at your birthday party.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
She got up and moved toward the door but he pulled her back into his arms. He tilted her chin to face him and his eyes were serious.
“Maraya, you were born a princess and shall one day become queen. But just so there is never any doubt, I would love you forever if you simply remained Marisa MacCallum for the rest of your life.”
He pulled her to him and pressed his lips firmly against hers with such depth and passion until she was finally convinced it wasn’t a dream. As they slowly parted, she noticed tears in his eyes.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long now,” he said softly.
“I just can’t believe this is happening.”
“Yes, I know—another surreal moment.” He grinned. “I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve getting you back again.”
“Darian, what happens now?”
“Well, after the proper training, you become queen.”
“No, no—I mean—are we still engaged?”
His face was serious. “Only if you want to be.
There is no law against you ruling as queen without a husband.”
“There isn’t?”
A mischievous grin spread across his face. “You could banish me from your sight if you wanted to. But you would break my heart forever if you chose that option.”
She punched his arm playfully. “Do you have any idea how often I’ve beat myself up over you? You knew I loved you and yet you never said a word.”
“You are mistaken, my dear. Although I confessed my love for you not only in words but in actions, you did not do the same for me. In fact, your words and actions seemed to confirm the opposite. I had no way of knowing what was going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
“I still don’t get it—why didn’t you just tell me about our engagement?”
“Two words: free will. You expressed to me almost as soon as we met that you could never marry someone out of an arranged marriage. It was then I knew I would have to fight to win you.
“Patiently, agonizingly, I waited for you to discover if you could ever feel anything for me. The last thing I ever wanted was to force you into marrying me out of some sense of duty or obligation.”
“So I guess I can eat my own words now.”
He chuckled. “Are you ready to go back in?”
“Do I even have a choice?” They laughed as he hoisted her to her feet. He put his arm around her and steered her through the door leading to the Knights’ Hall.
As the subjects bowed and curtseyed to their new princess, she mumbled softly so that only Darian could hear.
“I don’t think I will ever get used to this.”
“Yes, you will,” he whispered. “I will help you. And now, Your Supreme Highness, may I have the honor and extreme pleasure of the next dance?”
“Only if you promise not to call me that again tonight.”
As they clung to each other in a romantic, slow dance, the guests gathered around to catch a glimpse of their soon-to-be king and queen. Marisa savored the night as one she’d never forget for the rest of her life.
As she pressed her cheek against Darian’s chest, Marisa noticed that Uncle Al, Mark, Cinzia, Arrie, Helena, Tino and Adalina were all chatting and watching the two of them together. Uncle Al had one arm around Cinzia and her head was resting on his shoulder.
The Carnelian Legacy Page 27