“Yes. It’s more of a greenhouse, but you’ll see it once we get inside. We’ll wait here for my father and your mother.”
Olivia and Quincy stood at the bottom of the stairs so they weren’t in the way, but the people coming in could still see them. She noticed very quickly how well everyone was dressed, and for a moment she was happy she was dolled-up. Minus the heels, of course. The women wore gowns much like hers, shining in the light cast by the crystal chandelier that hung from the entranceway ceiling. The men were dressed a step down from what Quincy wore, but still, a tux was a tux. If this was a dinner, Olivia couldn’t wait to see what a ball would be like.
Behind them, Olivia heard her mother’s laughter and turned to see her being escorted down the steps by King Lamont. “Wow,” she whispered at the sight of her mom. Never in her life had she looked so magnificent. She looked exactly like a queen should, regal and graceful as she made her way down the steps.
Her gown was a lighter shade of blue than Olivia’s, but the skirt was much fuller and the beading was intricately done in floral patterns along the bodice. It was tight fitting and sleeveless. The jewels she wore were diamonds and pearls, finishing off the look and matching the tiara atop her head.
“You look amazing, Mom,” Olivia said once Melinda reached her.
“So do you. See? I knew you could pull off being a princess.”
“You look so like your mother,” Lamont said, and Olivia bowed in a small curtsy, too scared to do a full one and fall over. “Son. I trust you have everything well in hand?”
“Of course, Father, as I always do at these affairs.”
“Good, then I trust the two of you will have a splendid time. Shall we, my dear?”
Lamont and Melinda walked by, the latter squeezing her daughter’s hand in encouragement, then headed to the path made by the servants. Quincy took Olivia’s hand and they followed.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Quincy said, but his smile hadn’t come back. “Nothing at all.”
***
Quincy wanted nothing more than to disappear onto the balcony that overlooked the bay and stare out over the water, but he couldn’t move from his spot. This was his duty as crown prince—schmoozing the local courtiers. He hated it with a passion, and being dressed up in a tux like this only made it worse. The only good part about this evening was getting to watch Olivia in that dress.
Everyone wanted to meet the stunning young woman who stood beside the prince, and by the tenth courtier, he could see the annoyance in her eyes though she kept a smile on her face.
“No, I’m not his date tonight,” she said politely to yet another woman with her husband and daughter in tow, just a year younger than Olivia. “I am his soon-to-be stepsister. My mother is Melinda.”
“Oh… Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” the woman, Aliza Pentacraft, said with a sudden brightening of her smile. “This is my daughter, Gigi, and she is delighted to meet you and to see the crown prince again, of course.”
Quincy fought the urge to ignore the hand the young girl offered her, but his instincts kicked in and he did, bending low over it as he kissed it. “My lady, it is good to see you again.”
Gigi smiled slowly and leaned in closer, holding tightly to Quincy’s hand. “As always, my Prince, I am happy to see you looking so well and vibrant.”
“Must be the lights,” he teased as he pulled his hand back.
“Will you save me a dance later, my Prince?”
He stared at her finery and the jewels that adorned her body. Her family must have paid a fortune to do her up like this and have her hair and makeup look like she was royalty herself. The dress was almost better than Olivia’s. Almost.
“I shall try my hardest,” he said with a bow of his head. “Ladies, gentleman.” The three Pentacrafts moved on down the line, and there was a bit of a gap for him to take a breather before the next person. He knew what his father was doing with this dinner. Usually, it was just the advisors and courtiers with their wives or husbands in attendance, but tonight, there was a wonderful turnout of daughters.
“Well, this is a very interesting evening,” Olivia said as she shifted from one foot to the other.
“What do you mean?”
“So many young women dolled up and available. My, my, I think your father is trying to tell you something.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” he said as he glanced around the dining hall with its glass ceiling and walls. The view of the gardens was usually spectacular, but when he looked across the room, he met a sea of eager eyes and popping bosoms. “I feel like I’m an art piece at a museum.”
She laughed loudly until several faces turned to stare at her. “It could be worse.”
“How so?”
“Every time one of them comes up here, I get looks like they want to murder me in my sleep until they learn who I am.”