The Golden Princess (#4 in the GOLDEN series) ✔

•N I N E T E E N•

She had little knowledge of the Duke's family tree. Did he have a sister, a cousin, a close friend in his service that he'd arranged to pluck from the crowd and present to Romain, hoping to better control him? Cornelius was a manipulator, with the fancy words he uttered and his polite yet pressing demeanor. With his elegant fabrics and refined vocabulary and flowery cologne, he aimed to seduce, always. His family had conducted shady deals, and he claimed to want to wipe the slate clean; yet he hadn't convinced Prudence. And from what Prudence gauged from the mood in the Council Room, his behavior hadn't pleased Pauline, either.

But how to persuade Romain?

Despite all Romain had done to her, she felt a sense of protection towards him. A need to wake him up, to see the truth, to stop drowning in Cornelius' pretty speeches. A union with a traitorous Duke spelled disaster, and she couldn't be the only one to smell it.

Filled with dread, she fell back onto her pillow, making a plan to speak privately with her brother tomorrow.

Cornelius is dangerous, and he will ruin our family.

***

The next day, Pauline organized so many activities for her, Prudence never once bumped into Romain.

And while on the tour of the castle, she chided herself for not concealing a dagger in her corset or stuffing the fire-poker up her petticoat, as the Dowager showed her Cornelius' apartments on the floor below hers. His sleeping area was right beneath hers, and she wondered if she could stomp about and make loud noises to bother him at night. It wasn't as good as assassinating him in his sleep, but she'd take whatever pleasure she could get.

She had few chances to drift off into her thoughts, as Pauline talked a lot, mentioning traditions and customs and pointing out important paintings.

"According to law, you are to sit with Romain when he holds court. You are as close to Queen as can be, and eventually you will be his highest advisor. But," Pauline winced, "you are not ready. We must teach you more of our ways, first."

They settled in the Dining Room for lunch, and Prudence grimaced as Pauline demanded refill after refill of her beverage. Giromians drank a lot; at every meal they consumed red wine, amber ale, and strange and strong liquors she'd never heard of.

After their dessert, while Prudence swayed with her strides, unused to such heavy alcohol consumption, Pauline marched with her head high, poised, and her speech far from slurred. She greeted nobles as they passed, introduced her daughter, and smiled at everyone and everything.

Prudence tried to smile, yet the attention overwhelmed her. The Giromian aristocrats acknowledged her as if they'd known her forever. They awed at her dress, remarked on her resemblance to Romain and Pauline, and some dared to bring up her upcoming marriage, offering well wishes.

Prudence and Pauline put on fur-lined cloaks and meandered into the snowy gardens, their boots crunching on the frosted walkways. Once down the steep balcony steps, they swung left, passing the stables as they approached the gardener's cottage.

"I apologize for the informality of all this," said Pauline, hooking her arm with Prudence's. "I would have preferred to show you off to everyone all at once, during a lavish ball in your honor, but Romain wants to wait. He thinks you should be better acquainted with the court before we formally present you."

A royal ball—jingling jewels and animated music and frivolous dancing?

Prudence gritted her teeth. "Is such a thing necessary?"

Pauline grunted. "A ball? Oh, of course! Giromians love a good party, and they will be in better spirits and more receptive to you if there is alcohol flowing freely and lively tunes to enjoy!"

Prudence rolled her eyes, but made sure her mother didn't see her.

"But in any case, I have not yet persuaded him. At this rate, I doubt we will even have a celebration for your birthdays! We have less than a week to go, and he does not care!" She tugged on Prudence's arm too hard, and they nearly slipped on an icy patch on the path.

They both screamed, and two guards who'd been by the sheltered patio came running, bracing to help the women up. The Princess and the Dowager regained their balance on their own, Prudence giggling, Pauline turning red as a tomato.

"How embarrassing," whispered the latter, waving the soldiers off. "The entire court will hear of this."

Prudence's eyebrows scrunched. "The entire court?" She peered around the area. The fountains were deserted, the covered patio was unoccupied, and there were no events at the Royal Hippodrome far off in the distance. To the right was the Westten Forest—forbidden to all but hunters—and to the left was the edge of the cliff, protected by massive fortifications. Not a single soul had braved the outdoors but them. "No one is out here, Mother."

"Oh, but eyes are everywhere, you would do well to remember that." Pauline shook out her skirts and glimpsed behind them, up at the balustrade and the rows of curtain-covered windows. "Anyone could have been looking outside and caught us. I have learned, with difficulty, that our nobles enjoy gossip, and especially about shameful moments."

Privy to several shameful moments of her own, Prudence frowned. "But these things pass. I cannot image an averted tumble in the gardens will be a big deal for long." She squeezed her mother's arm. "Are there not bigger things they would discuss?" She gulped. "Such as... my future marriage?"

Pauline stilled, and her lips pinched. "Well, we do not have confirmation of that yet." She looked ahead and pulled Prudence onward. "They like to anticipate, but Romain has not decided. Nothing is set in stone."

At the sound of her mother's strained tone, Prudence perked up. Was this her moment to confess how much of a cruel bastard Cornelius was to her in Totresia? Would she at last understand her mother's true thoughts on him?

"What do you think, Mother?" She slowed her pace, forcing Pauline to do the same.

A whiff of cold smoke escaped Pauline's mouth as she sighed. "About Cornelius? Well, deep down, he is a good man, he must be. His family's reputation is shabby, and he has been overly blunt and crude, but he has maintained his status with class. And yet," she flipped to Prudence, her nose twitching, her eyes narrowing, "I wonder if there are no other choices out there. I do not deny he is the most likely prospect, and his blood is as noble as possible, but... we will see."

Prudence's heart dropped into her stomach. Her brother, her mother, the Giromian court—blind. Cloths wrapped tight over their eyes, their noses blocking out the stench of poison, and their ears not picking up on the subtle hints of the Duke of Terter's despicable ways.

Should I bother to voice my opinion at all?

"You will take to him, in time," said Pauline, curving her lips into a grin, though it lacked its usual warmth. "Everyone does. He is charming, in his own way."

Refraining from spitting and cursing the disgusting Duke's name, Prudence focused on the pathway, calculating her steps so she wouldn't slip again. She did her best to keep her expression indifferent and pretend to believe her mother, but she sensed her chances of remaining unmarried floating farther and farther away. Swaying her family would take time and proof, and she had no means to obtain either.

Later that night, as she continued to review how to pitch her ideas to Romain, to explain to him her distress, she tossed, and turned, and tossed again. Would she live a better life in Giroma than she had in Torrinni, surrounded by vipers and schemes? Because here, the vipers were in disguise, and though the schemes were out in the open, they were impossible to thwart.

•••