Chapter 20
She's laughing at me. She's mocking me. She's enjoying the pain and shock displayed across my face. The Margarite in front of me, is from my world as well?
"If only camera phones were invented in this world, I'd take a picture of your face because your expression right now is priceless." Margarite slouches a bit now that we've both acknowledged that neither of us have had proper etiquette training. The way she croons her neck tells me she must have been waiting a while to do that. "I'm gonna talk more casually if you don't mind, I can't stand those prissy princes and the way they expect me to talk."
"What do you mean you're from my world?" I ask, cutting off her ramblings of how she's not-quite-fit-to-be-a-lady. "If that's really the case then what happened to the original Margarite? How'd you get here? Why are you marrying Prince Tristen?"
She covers her ears in annoyance, "My god, so many questions. Relax Amy, I'll explain everything if you would stop yammering for a second." Reluctantly, I stop talking and just stare at Margarite waiting for her explanation.
"I came to this world about a year ago. I was terminally ill in my other body, and to pass the time I'd read a book called 'The Kingdom of Belmar'. When my body finally gave in, I woke up here." She gestured around while never making eye contact with me again, but I could still feel her aura boring into every orifice of my body. "I looked in the mirror, and I was the beautiful Margarite. I upgraded in the looks, health, and wealth department. Not only that but I was the main character of one of my favorite books, you can't imagine how happy I was. So I lived her life for the last year, waiting for the events of the novel to begin. Over that time, I admired the prince from afar and slowly fell in love, like Margarite is supposed to, and I enjoyed living my life in this world as a praised, carefree, and beautiful young lady while looking forward to the power and prestige I'd get once I was Queen. I had so many changes I wanted to make, you see, for the sake of the people."
"The story, from what I can remember, starts at the Sonna Festival ball, three months ago, at this exact spot. But I heard from Baron Hastings that a certain Lady had refused the hand of the Crown Prince." She glared at me, seeing through every choice I made since I was here, and spitting the "certain lady" part like it was poison.
"You didn't marry the Crown Prince," she continued, "At that moment I was confused. Amalie was always in love with the Crown Prince, she'd do anything to be with Cole, but you refused Queen Rista's proposal. I didn't think about it back then as much as I should have because I thought it was just one less obstacle to get to my happily ever after.
"The ball came around, and it was time for our fated meeting. I stood exactly where the book told me to stand, wearing exactly what the book told me to wear, excited that the time to meet my true love was finally here, but as he descended from the staircase, he didn't look at me. Our eyes didn't meet like the book said it would, there was no click of fate or immediate attraction because he was too busy searching for someone else. Then he asked you for the first dance.
"Cole wanted nothing to do with you in the novel, so what changed? Why did he approach you first, why did you talk and dance like a proper lady and not a spoiled brat, why wasn't he looking at me? Then he asked you to be his personal knight. I heard later that you guys dueled during the knights exam, and something snapped into place. The original Amalie wasn't so poised, she wouldn't refuse the hand of the Crown Prince, she wouldn't be caught dead wearing armor and holding a sword; the original Amalie was long gone."
She looked at me, probably waiting for a response but I didn't say anything. Of course I didn't act like the original Amalie, because if I had, then I'd be dead in a few months. It's not my fault Cole never tried to look for her like before. I earnestly tried to step back and watch their relationship from the sidelines, but in a way it was my fault. I changed the story so much that they were never able to have their fated encounters like the author planned.
"I tried talking to him after you ran off, I was convinced that if I did then he'd see the Margarite he was supposed to and fall in love with me just as he did in the book. But that didn't happen either. He rejected all of my advances and attempts of striking a conversation with him, he seemed too preoccupied with finding you even though you rejected him over and over again.
"I told him what you were. Not you, but the original Amalie: a spoiled brat that belongs to the Second Prince's faction and does anything Queen Rista says, but he snapped. He'd probably have me escorted from the premises if you didn't start screaming from the balcony over." Margarite gestures to her right at the platform where Viscount Mowry... I shudder at the thought.
"You want to be a knight but you acted like a damsel, make up your mind! Because of you, I lost my true love." Her eyes grow feral, like a wolf foaming at the mouth. "So I decided to approach Queen Rista personally. If I can't have Cole, why should you? I told her everything I could, and kept some secrets to myself. She saw me as an asset, she saw me as a threat, she saw me as a useful way to get Tristen on the throne. I said I'd elicit my resources if she'd make me the queen alongside him, a small price to pay to keep her bloodline in power. I didn't even scratch the surface before she agreed to my terms."
"I don't understand," I say to her, "If you were so in love with Cole, how could you turn your back on him so easily? How could you marry Tristen like nothing happened, and work with Queen Rista even though you know what she's like? Are your loyalties so flimsy that a simple heartbreak can ruin such a good life you could've had."
"You stole my prince!"
"He wasn't yours to begin with!" We both stare at each other, breathing heavily. She died from an illness, maybe she was too young and socially inept to see that her reasoning is so beyond flawed. "I was planning on giving him to you, I never tried to get romantically involved, it's not my fault if he couldn't manage to reciprocate your feelings."
"Well it's no matter anyway," she crosses her arms, "he won't be in the picture for much longer. I'm not wasting my second chance at life to be a poor Baron's daughter without the love of her life. I'll gain power, prestige, my second chance will be the real fairy tale, and there's not much you can do about it." She sounds like I do, changing the story for my own benefit because I didn't want to "waste my second chance." Maybe I'm just as toxic and selfish as she's being, maybe I never realized how changing the story could affect people like Margarite.
She crosses her arms as she makes her way to me, "We may have read the same book, but I've been here longer, I've been garnering connections for the last year. Prince Tristen will be king, and I will be his queen. Everything's already in motion, and a simple knight and her lackeys won't stop me."
I'm about to say something else, I'm about to scream at her that she's making a mistake and to not marry Tristen, I'm about to cry about how she could still join us, but the doors to the balcony swing open before I get the chance.
"Amalie, Margarite, are you ladies still speaking?" Prince Cole peeks his head in, and I can make the outline of Tristen standing behind him, averting his gaze.
"Not at all Your Highness. I fear I've stolen your partner for far longer than anticipated. My apologies, you must have missed her smiles dearly." Margarite offers Cole a warm smile, but I'm still shuddering from the icy persona she's hidden under a perfectly masked facade. Had she not just said what she said to me, I'd believe her performance as well.
Margarite leaves the balcony not turning to look behind her, dragging a hand seductively across Cole's shoulder as she goes. He tries not to pay her much mind as she rejoins Tristen in the ballroom, and the door separate us once again.
"Amalie?" he calls for me, slowly making his way to my side, "Are you alright? Your face is more pale than when I last saw you." He cups a hand around my cheek and I can't help but think of what Margarite just said to me. Everything she just told me about how I stole her true love. I don't know if I have his heart, but had I just played along she wouldn't have lost it.
I move away from his hand, pushing aside the small gesture even if it does burn fire on every bit of skin he touches. She brought me back to reality, I shouldn't be feeling like this, not with the kingdom teetering on the edge of a cliff.
My legs start to move back to the ballroom when he calls back to me before I can even open the door. "What did she say to you?" he asks, grabbing my wrist for me to stop, "That snake. I knew I didn't like her after our first encounter. I cared not if I were the only one to deal with her, but if she intends to spread slander to you as well I will not tolerate such behavior." he takes a pause, and I'm not sure what to believe. His hand has gripped around my wrist so many times before, why does it feel so different now? "Please," he breathes, "What happened?"
"Tell me Prince Cole," I may be making the biggest mistake of my second life, but I can't deal with this alone anymore. I need a better plan, I need help. He's the only one I know that can help me, but I don't know if he'll believe me when I tell him. "Would you like to hear a story?"
* * *
Cole listened to every I had to say, from my arrival as Amalie to what Margarite had just told me, and considering how much I disclosed to him, he was much more patient than I had anticipated. I told him only the truth, that I'm not really Amalie, that this world is a story that I read about, and everything that Queen Rista is planning.
I tried not to push the fact that this world is in a book too hard, he was confused when I mentioned it but I glossed over that fact. It was the knowledge that I'm not the original Amalie that I wanted, I needed, him to understand. He probably thinks I had a few more drinks than I should've, but the Queen Rista part he believes well enough.
"That wench," he says, though I can't tell if he's referring to his step mother or Margarite. "Assuming everything you told me was true, then is it possible to hold on to the crown at this point? Baron Hastings is now a part of the Tristen's faction, and Margarite has a hold on all of the resources I need to keep my title. She'll probably inform the Queen that you are aware of her original plan and change it so drastically we won't be able to anticipate the attack on Lambhurst."
"We're not out of hope yet," I say lacing my hand into his to comfort him, or even convince myself that we still have a chance. "I have a strategum of my own, though admittedly it's not as developed and now there are too many unknown factors with Margarite's involvement, but I have a list of key endorsements and supporters we'll have to gain during the ball tonight."
I press a small slip of paper from between my fingers to the center of his palm. "The dances are about to begin, and the royal family is required to participate in the first dance of the evening. Once we've finished putting on a display of naivety, find these nobles and make sure they understand what they'd benefit from you being King over Tristen. I have a few people to speak to on my own. We'll reconvene tomorrow under the guise of me fulfilling my knightly duties. Do you understand?"
His hands wrap around the paper, but his eyes still seem hesitant. I just relayed an unbelievable amount of information to him, he must be overwhelmed, but now is not the time to hesitate and stutter. "Trust me," I say, wrapping my hands around his closed fist. "We need to face our audience within that room as though nothing has happened, and as though we know nothing. Queen Rista has enough of an advantage, if she knows what we're planning then it's all but over for us. When I took up the oath of your sword, I swore to protect you at all costs. I believe I've given you enough reason to trust me, so please."
My eyes are pleading, and his are scared, confused, and vulnerable all at once. He looks similar to how I'd imagined he'd look during Queen Rista's assassination attempt, only now he's just been told that his mother will eventually try to kill him. If he needed a few more minutes, a few more days even, I would've allowed them to him, but the music from inside starts playing to signify the beginning of the first dance. We need to go.
Cole stands before I do, and turns his hand upwards to me, asking me to take it. I can see it in his eyes that he's still processing everything, but he understands that he can't stall any more time than we've already had. Margarite has a year advantage on us, and she's inside right now acting all innocent and garnering support from nobles whom are all wishing her congratulations.
The two of us walk through the double doors as if nothing had happened, with our heads held high and legs moving swiftly across the floor as if we were the most important people there. I could feel Queen Rista's eyes burn into me, but I don't dare take my eyes off of my partner. They will get no rumors to spread, they will get no ammunition to use against me, they will not follow my wandering eyes and sense my suspicions.
As he spins me under his arm, the slightest glint of red evades the corner of my eyes, showing me that Margarite is also standing by the side instead of dancing with Tristen. I wonder where he ran off to this time, like how I met him in the hall in the middle of the last ball.
The train of my dress sweeps around the floor, and I can feel it hit the hoop skirt of Queen Rista's. From my peripherals, I can see her pause and glance at me, probably thinking "the audacity!", and I try not to let her see my smug smile. "What's that look for?" Cole asks, bracing his hand on my spine a bit.
"Your step mother has a talent for making me spite her." The condescension in my voice is palpable, and yet my face remains polite for the sake of the nobles watching us.
"A sly thing, I see she is," he dips me to the side in a grand gesture, one of my legs raising through the shorter side of my skirt, "But villain's always lose at the end, don't they Amalie?" I can see his proud expression faltering, the pain and worry in his eyes becoming too apparent.
My right palm cups the side of his face, and I can feel his head lean into my touch. This gesture isn't just for the people anymore, it's to steady both of us from falling. Even if I don't believe it myself, he needs this. "It's a promise."