The Gala

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The Gala Page 2

by Leigh Walker


  “I heard he’s going to resume the one-on-one dates tonight. I hope he picks me!” squealed another.

  “It’s been soooo boring here without the prince. I’ve resorted to double espressos.” Another girl tossed her thick, blonde ponytail over her shoulder then held up her shaking hand.

  Her friend giggled, but the girl frowned. “I think I need to tone it down a bit. I don’t want to frighten him!”

  I wanted to remind her that the prince was a vampire—making him eminently more frightening than a highly-caffeinated human—but instead, I made a beeline for the table occupied by my closest contestant-friend, Shaye Iman. She wore a blush-pink dress, her tawny curls tumbling past her shoulders. Her makeup shimmered, pink and perfect, making her copper-hued skin sparkle. As usual, she was dazzling.

  Shaye grinned at me as I grabbed a biscuit. “So I’m guessing you heard… Prince Charming is back in town. It’s all everyone’s talking about.”

  I shoveled some of the biscuit into my mouth and nodded. I didn’t want to tell her I’d already seen him. I wasn’t sure if it would hurt her feelings. Shaye liked the prince, too, a fact I was still trying to come to terms with.

  “Oh, Gwyn knows all about that.” Bosom bursting with untold gossip, Tamara plopped into the seat next to me. She leaned conspiratorially toward Shaye. “My maids told me the prince went to her room this morning.”

  I swallowed hard as Shaye’s jaw dropped. I glared at Tamara. “Your maids should learn to mind their own business.”

  Tamara arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me then arranged her emerald-green gown. “Already acting like you’re the boss, eh?”

  “You shut your mouth—”

  “Ladies.” Tariq suddenly appeared, beaming down at us. As usual, the royal emissary was perfectly put together. His dark hair was ruthlessly slicked back, and he wore a deep-purple ceremonial uniform. His expensive cologne wafted over our table. “Everything quite all right?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes, Your Royal Emissary.”

  “Everything’s fine.” Tamara fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Just a little morning girl talk.”

  He turned to Shaye. “Miss Iman?”

  “We’re good.” But she blushed beneath her makeup, and I wondered just how much the news of Dallas visiting me bothered her.

  “Most excellent.” Tariq’s eyes glittered. “I have something quite special to share with you all this morning—the latest episodes of the Pageant. We’re airing two back-to-back installments tonight. The viewers are going to be beside themselves with excitement.”

  He leaned down, nodding to Shaye and Tamara. “Both of your one-on-one dates are featured. They are to die for.”

  He strutted off, and a heavy silence settled over our table. Tamara beamed, Shaye tore at her napkin, and I stuffed another biscuit into my mouth.

  Platinum-haired Mira Kinney stood in front of the large flat screen, looking lovely and elegant in a nubby-fabric skirt suit. She was the government-sanctioned television personality narrating and hosting the televised version of the Pageant. She and her crew were living at the palace, filming us around the clock.

  Mira Kinney was a prime example of how my life had been turned upside-down since entering the contest. She was a vampire, but she lived and worked among us girls as if it were no big deal. Before I’d come to the palace, I hadn’t even known vampires existed.

  But I’d learned that some vampires, like Mira and the prince, could coexist peacefully with humans when they wanted to. When they didn’t want to, like when Dallas had fought the human rebels, it was an entirely different story.

  Other vampires, like the queen, had self-control issues around humans. Since the queen had ravaged Eve, they’d kept her away from us, thank God.

  “We’ve gotten great feedback about the first episode.” Mira broke my reverie. “Based on early polls, it appears that close to ninety percent of the population tuned into the premiere. That’s a staggering number. The approval ratings for the government have skyrocketed. I want to thank everyone for their hard work and contribution to the show’s success.”

  Her sharp, blue-eyed gaze sought out mine. “I’d like to specially recognize Miss West, who stayed calm under pressure. She had the first one-on-one date with the prince, and she handled it flawlessly.”

  The other girls clapped politely, and I smiled, but then I saw Tamara glaring. She looked as if she might scratch my eyes out. I hastily scooted away from her.

  “We’re airing two episodes of the competition tonight,” Mira continued. “We’re looking to capitalize on the viewers’ excitement. With only four weeks of the competition remaining, we’re going to be increasing the number of broadcasts. We want the people of the settlements to feel as if they’re taking this journey with you. We want them to feel everything you’re feeling.”

  One of the other girls raised her hand. “What’s going to happen over the next four weeks? Is everyone going to get a one-on-one date with the prince?”

  Several other girls murmured in the crowd, echoing her question.

  Tariq stepped out of the shadows. “I’ll explain everything about the coming weeks in my lecture later this morning, after Mira’s finished with her presentation.”

  Mira nodded. “I want you all to watch these episodes closely, then we’re going to review each of them, section by section.” She smiled at us, revealing her perfect, even white teeth. “You can learn a lot by watching these two young ladies. Both of them wowed on their one-on-one dates.”

  Tamara tossed her hair, and Shaye slunk into her seat.

  “What’s the matter?” I whispered.

  Shaye just bit her lip and shook her head, looking worried.

  Tamara’s episode aired first.

  I settled in to watch the opening sequence. The royal crest was the initial image, accompanied by the United Settlements’s anthem. Then came footage of the King and Queen. They stood side by side, aloof and regal.

  Mira Kinney said, in a voice-over, “Introducing His Royal Majesty, King Reginald Black, Crown King of the United Royal Settlements and his wife, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Serena Black, Crown Queen of the United Royal Settlements. The King and Queen are thrilled to welcome the Pageant contestants to the palace.”

  King Black was tall, muscular, and handsome, with gray hair and a trim, white beard. The Queen was stunning, tall and lean, with sapphire-blue eyes, a high forehead, and a long, graceful neck. She was beautiful, but I still shivered with dread when I saw her.

  The familiar brief, propagandized version of how the royals had come to power in the settlements followed. They were portrayed as saviors, coming down from the north to rescue us from crime and poverty. The images on the screen showed the royal family—the king, the queen, and the prince—waving to adoring onlookers at a midnight parade. Then there was a group of young women wearing gowns, eagerly smiling as a long line of paparazzi took pictures of them. The last image was of a young woman kneeling, a crown being placed on her head.

  Next came the prince. The film showed him riding a white steed, wind whipping through his hair. He had his own segment, during which he declared himself ready for love, commitment, and marriage. As usual, many of the girls sighed with longing as we watched him.

  Next, each of the remaining contestants was shown. Our names and settlement numbers were broadcast across the screen.

  “Miss Gwyneth West, Settlement Four.”

  I barely recognized myself with my hair and makeup done and dressed in an elegant red gown.

  The first scene showed Tamara with her maids, getting ready in the morning. The sun shone brightly in her room, illuminating the dark waves of her raven hair. Her skin positively glistened, and her bosom heaved as her maids zipped her into a tight scarlet gown then ushered her to the full-length mirror.

  She smiled at her reflection, and why shouldn’t she? She looked gorgeous. She looked like a princess.

  I bit the inside of my cheek so I didn’t groan out loud as the p
rogram continued. Tamara flirted, flounced, and stuck her chest out at the prince every chance she got.

  In one scene, she “accidentally” bumped into him, squishing her enviable assets directly into his chest and his direct line of vision.

  I grimaced as I watched Dallas smile at her. Still, I knew him well enough to see that he didn’t really seem interested in Tamara. His body language was stiff, formal. He smiled at her without warmth, a fact that seemed largely lost on her. She openly gloated as we watched the episode, tossing her hair and grinning at anyone who looked her way.

  Tamara’s episode ended with footage of her and the prince on the front steps of the palace—the part of their date I’d interrupted. Of course, my intrusion was edited out. The final images were of Dallas with his arm around Tamara, his hand securely fastened to her lower back. She looked adoringly up at him as he smiled for the cameras.

  She fist-pumped as the credits rolled. “That was epic!”

  Insipid cow, I thought.

  I composed my features. “You looked very pretty.”

  She shrugged, beaming. “Thanks.”

  Shaye leaned forward. “It was a great episode. The camera loves you.”

  Tamara crossed her legs. “It does, doesn’t it?”

  I rolled my eyes, and Shaye silently giggled.

  But she stopped abruptly as the next episode began. Shaye slunk down in her seat, as if she wished she could disappear.

  “Sit up and watch, silly!” I hiss-whispered.

  She scootched up a bit, eyes wide and never leaving the screen. I wondered what had my friend so tense. She’d told me that the prince had kissed her but that it had been quick and chaste. As I watched her slink back down in her chair, I wondered if she’d been minimizing it.

  “Shaye Iman is from Settlement Twenty-Four, as far west as the settlements go,” Mira Kinney said in a voice-over. “Her life back home is humble.”

  The image panned to what I assumed was the town Shaye came from in Settlement 24. It was little more than a village. The center consisted of several small, shabby-looking houses and a run-down store. The streets were muddy. Children in dirty clothes played in the square, and dogs roamed around in a pack.

  It was dark, but I knew Shaye’s cheeks were flaming red.

  “But nobility comes from within. Miss Iman’s adjusted extraordinarily well to palace life. Easily one of the most graceful, humble and kind contestants, she’s adored by the royals and staff alike.”

  The next images showed Shaye smiling kindly at the kitchen staff, helping the gardeners wrangle an unruly rose bush, and bowing elegantly before the prince. It also showed her at our breakfast table, laughing and chatting with Tamara and me as we feasted on raspberry scones. Extremely pretty in person, Shaye was unequivocally stunning on screen.

  Next was an image of Shaye walking arm-in-arm with the prince around the reflecting pools in the garden. Mira’s voice-over continued. “Miss Iman was instrumental in advocating for generous stipends for the Pageant’s contestants. Of course, the royal family fell in love with the idea, and each contestant will leave the palace with a healthy cash prize to thank their families for their service to the settlements.”

  Shaye kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she watched. Tamara sat ramrod straight, a grim, resigned look on her face. Because even Tamara would have to admit it—not only was she gorgeous, Shaye’s kindness and quiet dignity came across clearly in the episode. The settlers were going to go wild for her. She was a Cinderella story in the making, and she would make a magnificent princess.

  A princess for the people.

  “As she was chosen early in the competition for a one-on-one date, the prince also clearly appreciates Miss Iman,” Mira’s voiceover narrated.

  The scene changed to the night of Dallas and Shaye’s date. Shaye wore a lovely, blush-pink dress, similar in color to the one she wore today. But in the episode, the gown had a full, layered-tulle bottom. It gave the dress a floating, magical effect, as if Shaye might fly up and sprinkle fairy-dust on the prince. And given the way he kept staring, the prince was certainly enraptured by her.

  Now it was my turn for flaming-red cheeks. I wasn’t entirely sure I could watch this part.

  The crew had filmed them during their date. They had dinner in a formal dining room I’d never seen before. There were candles everywhere and an enormous bouquet of roses in the middle of the table. Dallas wore his dark-gray ceremonial uniform, his hair tousled and wild.

  He sipped wine while he watched Shaye eat, his gaze never leaving her face.

  “What are you staring at?” Shaye blushed.

  Dallas smiled in response, his dimple flashing. “You are lovely,” he said, simply.

  They stared at each other.

  I wanted to run from the room, screaming, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen.

  After their dinner, Dallas led Shaye to the grand foyer. They made a beautiful couple. His skin was icy pale, but hers was a rich, warm copper. They complemented each other perfectly, light and dark, each shimmering in the candlelight from the massive chandelier.

  “It was nice to spend time with you, Shaye.” Dallas loomed over her. “You are…easy to get along with.”

  Shaye had told me he’d said this, but hearing it like this was a punch to the gut.

  “Thank you, Your Highness. I had a lovely evening.” Shaye curtsied and went to take her leave, but Dallas gently stopped her. He bent down and brushed his lips against hers.

  He pulled back. “Good night, miss.”

  She curtsied again, a little wobbly this time. “Your Highness.”

  My heart twisted, and I squeezed the arms of my chair. Tears pricked my eyes. But I refused to cry, steadying myself with deep breaths as the credits rolled. By the time the lights came up, I’d plastered a huge smile across my face.

  I hugged Shaye, hard.

  “What’s that for?” The question came out muffled. I might have squeezed her too forcefully.

  “That was a triumph.” I pulled back, beaming at my friend. “You were wonderful.”

  Shaye’s eyes were wide, unsure. “T-Thank you.”

  “You did very well,” Tamara sniffed, butting in. “I still don’t think what he said was that romantic, but it’s a start, I guess.”

  Shaye’s face went scarlet. She nodded her assent. “You’re probably r-right.”

  “Don’t be such a jealous cow, Tamara,” I snapped.

  Suddenly, several other girls descended on us, peppering Shaye with congratulations and questions about the prince. I sat back and watched my friend answer them, polite and kind as always.

  I still felt sick, as if someone had sucker-punched me in the stomach.

  Tamara leaned closer, narrowing her eyes at me. “As for being a jealous cow?” She kept her voice low. “It takes one to know one.”

  “Shut up, Tamara.”

  But I knew in my heart she was right.

  Chapter 3

  What Four Weeks Of Hell Look Like

  Mira Kinney dissected every scene in both of the episodes, talking about posture, eye contact, and camera angles, but I didn’t listen to a word.

  All I could think of was Dallas. And Shaye. And Dallas with Shaye.

  I knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t interested in Tamara. But I could see, quite clearly, that he was taken with Shaye.

  Why would he do this to me? Why had he lied and said he only had eyes for me?

  Why would he come see me first thing this morning?

  Why had he made me hope?

  The episode dissection ended, and Mira dismissed us. My head throbbed as I headed to the lecture hall, where Tariq was giving our next lesson. Both Shaye and Tamara were uncharacteristically silent, which suited me fine.

  “Are you all right?” Shaye asked, as we took seats in the hall.

  “Of course.” I fake-smiled so hard my face hurt.

  “I told you he kissed me.” Shaye sounded def
ensive.

  I nodded quickly. “I know you did.”

  Tamara rolled her eyes, but I ignored her, grateful that Tariq was already at the front of the room, ready to speak.

  “Ladies, first of all, congratulations. You are the final twenty contestants. Nicely done.” He clapped, and we joined him. “Now, as I stated previously, there are four weeks remaining in the competition. I have several announcements about that.”

  He waited as murmurs broke through the group then continued. “No one will be cut for the next four weeks. Each of you will have a one-on-one date with the prince. For those of you who haven’t done that yet, you are the priority. All first dates will consist of a formal dinner, as they have to this point.”

  The girls whispered until Tariq cleared his throat. “That being said, his royal highness will also be spending individual time with the girls he’s already had first dates with. Second dates will be given to whomever the prince requests, and they can occur at any time.”

  More chatter erupted, and Tariq held up his hands. “Ladies, please.” The room quieted down again. “Second dates will be more adventurous, you might say, than first dates. If you are chosen for a second date, you can expect to do an activity with the prince. These might include horseback riding, hiking, archery, or dancing.”

  Several of the girls oohed and aahed.

  Tariq smiled, pleased with the response. “The point of a first date is to see if you and the prince can have a conversation and enjoy a meal together.”

  Except Dallas can’t eat anything, I thought meanly. So he’ll just gaze at you longingly and flash his traitorous, duplicitous dimple. Because apparently, he does that to all the girls!

  “The point of a second date is to see if you can enjoy an activity together and whether or not you have shared interests. I must stress that these second dates are very, very important. The prince takes the competition seriously. He is looking to find his life partner, and he wants to see who he most enjoys spending time with.”

  I snorted then quickly disguised it as a cough.

 

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