"You don't like me!" I called.
Cyrus scoffed, but he didn't stop or turn around. "I don't believe I've said that, Your Highness."
"That's just it. You haven't. You haven't said more than three words to me since I've arrived. Even in the Square. Which you lied to the Prince about. You're welcome for not outing you."
"I apologize if I have insulted you," he spat. "I simply mistook you for someone else."
"And now you lie to me. I told you who I was. You let me make a fool of myself introducing myself. I don't know whether I should be angry with you or-"
"Again, I apologize," he sang.
I huffed. "Would you slow down?" I followed him past the restless staff, through the hallway and out into the gardens before he did and turned around. "Thank you."
"I have somewhere I have to be," he said.
"Another lie, I bet."
When he didn't have an answer ready, I half smirked, crossed.
"Your Hig-"
"I've figured you out."
"Have you?" He narrowed his eyes, searching my face for something. Just as frustrated as I.
"You don't like my father." I paraded, taking a strong posture with the accusation. I wasn't wrong; "It's quite obvious," but maybe a little proud.
Cyrus laughed; doubling over, and then settled into a nod that let me know that didn't cover the half of it. "Nobody likes your father. He's an ass!"
I gasped.
"You should ask Sam why he is always so busy the days your King arrives." His shoulders relaxed and I could see he felt bad for what he'd said. "Your-" he started.
"Two things, Lord Cyrus. One. I agree with you. My father is an ... ass," I whispered the last of that. "And two. I'm not him. I would prefer you didn't make that mistake again."
We stood in stalemate. "Which? That you aren't your father? A pair of eyes can make that assumption."
"It's beyond that. Whatever it is he did to you; offended your father, raised your taxes. Closed your favorite sword ... store...? I apologize, but it wasn't my pen that signed off on it. So be kind enough to shield me from your criticism. At least until I am on the throne. And then still because honestly-"
"What!? What are you talking about?"
"You. Here! An Oreian swordsman, obviously one of our better ones, serving the Crowned Prince of Chalke. You've masked your accent. You don't openly confess your heritage, you avoid me-!"
"I've done none of that. I've been here since I was a boy. I have no accent to mask. And I don't understand what this argument is meant to accomplish?"
"I don't like him either," I said.
"Why would I care?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
Cyrus was just as lost as I was, my words taking us onto a wild ride that had quickly lost its meaning. His face contorted in ways I'd never seen another person make at me, and then he moaned. "...You are too kind to monopolize my time so close to your evening. Go. Dance. Have fun and by God leave me be."
I bristled. "I'm only trying to be friendly, Lord-."
"I'm not a lord," he said. "Stop calling me that."
"Not a?" I paused, my mouth opening at the fact. After a moment it added; "But-"
"It's just Cyrus," he said. "Rarely 'Mr. Evergreen.'"
And then I was aware of it. The massive moat that stood between us. He was less concerned about who my father was, and more bothered by who his wasn't. Did I do so little to connect with others that he could think that mattered to me? I felt ashamed, unable to find a means to respond.
"Enjoy your evening," he said.
If I had been any other woman in the land, I would've followed after him. Apologized for the brashness of my demeanor. For belittling him somehow in assuming he was of higher birthright than he was. But if I were any other woman, I would not have been so cold in the first place. So belligerent in my own vanity. So offended by how little he'd paid it attention.
I was such a brat.
"Well that was rather peculiar," I closed the door behind me.
"What was?" Josie asked.
She'd been waiting for me at the desk, and as I sat down, I took a deep breath I wasn't aware I'd needed. When I looked up, I watched Cyrus stalk across the yard and disappear into the stables.
"Miss Svana?" she asked.
"Nothing," I muttered. "I'm so excited for tonight. Is it still too soon to get ready?"
She laughed, narrowing her lips into a tight but approvingly smile and shook her head. "Why don't we start with your hair, and then we can see about the dress? I don't want you sitting around in a tight bodice for longer than you have to. Even if it is so very pretty. Corsets are harsh."
"I'm..." I shrugged, trying to dispel Cyrus' agitation from my thoughts. "I'm very curious to see Sameer's reaction. He did buy this, after all. A silly gesture, I think. But a flattering one, the same."
"Aye," she agreed. "He seems very kind. And very eager to impress you."
I hummed coyly. "Oh?"
Josie combed out the rest of my hair and began to weave it into a thicker braid than I was accustomed to. It felt weird; light over my back, even though we'd practiced it before.
"Are you sure this is alright?" I worried.
"We can change it back?"
"No! No. Uhm." I touched the end of it, pulling the tail over my shoulder to inspect it. "I do think it's pretty. I think I'm. Well."
"Mmhm."
"Unless you think the dress is too-?"
We met in my reflection. "You haven't tried it on since the fitting."
"But I-"
"I see. These are the natural nerves of attending your first real social affair in a royal court," she said, untwisting my locks. "All very normal given the circumstance, I assure you."
"I," I rapped my thumb. "Suppose you make a sort of sense."
"Let's wear the crown tonight. It suits you."
"...Thank you."
"Although..." she stopped, finishing her work.
"What? ...What?" I turned around. " You've got that look."
"There's no look," she teased back.
"Josie!"
"I suppose the sudden dip in your mood has nothing to do with a certain Lord we've just seen."
"What?" I scoffed. "Please."
"I wouldn't fault you. He is handsome."
"Is he?" I armored myself. "I hadn't noticed."
"Respectfully, Princess; you're a terrible liar."
"There is nothing to lie about!" I whined.
"You ran after him into the hall and then the two of you took turns yelling at each other for several minutes."
"Exactly. Yelling."
"Ser Willoughby says I'm very observant," she boasted. "I-"
"Ser Willoughby is an idiot." Her smile dimmed and I realized my mistake at once. "Oh," I straightened. "...Do you speak to Willoughby often, then?"
"...No."
"...You're as rubbish in your lies as I am."
She blushed. "Caught. You admit he's handsome then?"
"Sure, if you like brutish men, adamant on getting the last word!
"Then I admit I speak to Willoughby as much as I do anyone. Though he isn't as ill-witted as you insist. He's very smart."
"That feels suspect."
Josie took a deeper breath and moved towards the bed, to the gown.
"It is sort of a ridiculous pattern, though, isn't it?" I asked.
"Do not let Lord Evergreen's poor taste affect your evening, Miss."
"Cyrus," The correction left my mouth before I knew it.
"Cyrus? A fight in the hall and now we're on a first name basis?"
"No. I was mistaken of his title. He's not a lord. That's all. And why do I care what Mr. Evergreen, Not-A-Lord thinks of my dress anyway? I don't! That's for sure," I muttered, loosening the ties of my blouse to slink out of it and into a better suited shift. "Brash and rude, really," I continued complaining. "Though he does dress remarkably well." My brows dropped again, looking at the subtle filigree of the fabric even closer. "Do you think he's right? About the detail?"
Josie mused.
"What?" I pressed.
"Mr. Evergreen said it was beautiful," she hummed. "When he'd actually seen it for what it was."
"Well. I don't care either way," I lied.
Inside of the gown, I felt more confident. After I told myself that swordsmen just couldn't be trusted in their first impressions of a lady's fashion, or even the lady herself. But. I was wearing it now, and well.
Still, a foolish desire to find him and twirl around him had to be dismissed as soon as it appeared. What would that do for anyone? We'd only find ourselves in another argument over absolutely nothing. He'd comment on how my spinning was incorrect, or remind me that 'a spin in Chalke was'- well it didn't matter. Thinking about Cyrus was only going to eat away at my evening dancing with the Prince.
The Prince.
My prince. The man I was engaged to. Yes. Sameer, I remembered.
My shoes made an anxious click on the marble floor outside the ballroom as I waited for Sam's trusty herald to announce me into the affair. After what felt like an unnecessarily long time alone with my pestering thoughts, it was my turn.
"Presenting Her Royal Highness, Princess Svana Eisson, of the Oreian Empire!"
The music picked up again after my introduction, and I tried to manage my shaking as I entered the sea of eyes. While we had a ballroom, actually two, back home, neither had ever been in commission. At least in my lifetime. This was... strangely occupied, and clearly well used. Otherwise the staff was just decently skilled in arranging an event or had an inherent ability to know exactly where to be when they were needed.
On cue, a young waiter appeared at my side and offered me a flute of champagne; my salvation. "Thank... you," I said, bringing it immediately to my lips.
"I did not believe it could be done," Sam sang from behind me. I spun, skirt with me, as I greeted him with a silly smile.
"What couldn't be done?" I asked. "The ball? It did come together very nicely."
He smirked and glanced at the man who stood beside him. "That you could look more beautiful than you did this morning. I am moved."
I snickered. "I," blurting; "This is my first ball."
"Is that so?" He nodded, unoffended by the evasion of his compliment, maybe even charged by my stupor. "How can that be?"
"I..." I glanced at his party. A slender man, the one he'd looked at a moment before, and two women. One red haired, and the other blonde.
Sam began to speak of them. "This is Lord Barrington, his father plays chess with mine. Lady Rose, and Lady Agatha; sisters. Their father... Advises mine."
"We're the Coin," the red-head sang.
"Rosie," the blonde nudged her. "We are in polite company. This is the Princess, you know?"
"Of course I know," Rose didn't mind and met me with a slyer grin. "I think the Princess thinks I'm funny," she dared.
I waited too long to think of something to say to that, and instead returned to the initial question. "I've been promised since I was twelve. So. I never had a season."
"Never had a season?" Lord Barrington remarked. "How does that work?"
"Aye," I said. Oh no. "I mean. I have been quite busy with other things. Piano. Reading. My horses."
"Horses?" Lady Agatha asked. One of her brows moved. "Like... racing?"
"Uhm," I started. "Well no, I don't race them. They're more companions."
"Companions," she repeated.
Sam barely tilted his head at her, presenting me with his glove, "Allow me to make tonight special for you, Princess."
I laid mine over his, and without any further warning, he swept me into the dancing surge of faces. "I'm happy to be your first."
Sam pulled me deeply to his chest, into a much closer dance than I had anticipated. Combined with his choice of words, and how deftly he managed to swing me through the steps of the foreign routine, I felt my heart struggle; racing through the majority of its spins and dips. I barely kept up, opting to focus on his features instead of the pattern of passing window panes that littered the back wall. One, two, three.
The song slowed, and then I was upright, steady and braced in a slow waltz.
"This is," I said. "Quite lively." My head swam.
"Apologies, my Princess. We are spirited here, I'm afraid."
"Yes, I have noticed." I smiled, to let him know I was not bothered by the fact, just... unexposed. "Oreians dance much slower."
"Do you dance a lot out of season?" he went on before I could answer. "Truthfully, I thought you were the type to host as many events as you could. Every night, I imagined. Enough to drive your father mad. At least in the summer months. Assuming you have summers?"
"We do," I said. "It's summer now."
"You know what I mean," he teased.
"Um?" I watched his eyes travel around the room as he nodded and greeted a few friends throughout our dance. "Oreian summers are-"
We met eyes. Warmly, and I felt as though someone had unleashed a flock of birds within my chest.
"-Tell me something," Sam demanded. "Something no one else in this room could ever know about you."
That made me laugh. "I would wager that could be anything. No one seems particularly interested in me."
"On the contrary," he said. "You've caught everyone's attention tonight."
"Have I?" I hummed. "Does that include yours?"
"You know it does." Sam dropped his gaze over my dress. "I like seeing you in white. You look like a bride."
"A bride?"
"Do the women in Oreia not wear white gowns to their weddings?" he asked.
"We wear... whatever we like? My, we have many differences to conquer before our day."
He frowned, "Wear what you wish. Whatever's traditional, then."
"I just meant-"
"But I like knowing that the men here tonight; and in our circles will remember you in this color. As unavailable."
"Oh?" I swallowed. "And-"
"Because you are."
"I..." I hid my flush. "Your father made a comment about my braid."
"What does he know? He's an old man; made my mother miserable." He caught the crassity of his statement and then apologized quietly for it. "Your secret, then?"
"My what?"
"Something no one knows," he added.
"...I'd have to think."
"Then I'll go first," he nodded.
"Alright."
Sam smiled ruefully, "My mother fell from her horse. When I was a child."
"Well, that's fairly common. I've fallen plenty of-"
"I know," he shrugged. "But that's what took her. Now horses don't like me. I think they smell my fear."
"Don't like you?" I replayed his words slower. "I'm sorry... But, an entire species impervious to your charm? I don't believe it. Though I can believe your fear... I'm not offended. If that helps?"
"It helps. You find me charming then?"
The intensity was almost too much to take. I stuttered with my response, still giddy.
Sam leaned in and spoke softly, "I am trying so hard to dazzle you, Princess. Tell me it's paid off."
"...Dazzle me?" I asked.
"You are the most beautiful thing in this room. Not the chandelier, not the ladies of the court. It's only you. How could I not find myself so dangerously enraptured?"
The breath I took made him smile as he stepped back and the dance ended.
"My Princess," he said with a bow. I curtsied in response. "Speaking of; however," he said. "You would do well among the other girls. Go introduce yourself for me. Form connections for when you are to stay in Chalke."
"You want me to befriend your court?" It was more of a statement than a question and he met it with the same certainty.
"Our court. Yes. Then you will be able to put names to faces when you invite their parties over."
The idea was exactly as Elías had suggested and it fueled a tingling that made me feel strange. "Of course," I sang. "I look forward to managing your affairs."
"Our affairs," Sam reminded me, very pleased with our decision as we parted ways for the time.
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