“I’m not sure who he is even interested in.” That was a lie. He was interested in her, though that could never happen. “I don’t really know him well enough yet to judge whom he might fit with.” She moved to the center of the room as was the routine now for the ladies and Allete to get her ready. “As long as it’s not Gigi.” The ladies laughed and Olivia grinned, happy to know she wasn’t the only one who disapproved of the woman.
They gossiped and chatted as they worked Olivia out of her everyday clothes and into the sapphire and violet ball gown that had been made for her. The skirt was full and twirled out when she spun. It was strapless with a heart-shaped neckline, a low back shaped like a V, and beading that caught the light all throughout the skirt. Shimmery powder was brushed over her shoulders and along her chest. Her makeup was completed by Allete, as always, and last was the necklace, bracelets, and earrings. Each one was more extravagant than the last. The silver and blue bangles had been handmade on the island and pushed halfway up her forearms. The earrings were teardrops of colors, shifting from blue to violet, matching the necklace chunked with stones that sparkled.
“There… Now, I know I have told you this before about looking the part and wearing heels, but in light of the dancing that will occur all night,” Allete began as she pulled a box from the floor, “I had these made for you at the last minute.”
Olivia pulled the top of the box off and stared at a pair of handmade violet ballet flats. They had been embroidered with stars and moons along the sides and waves crashing into a beach on the toes.
“Allete, these are wonderful,” Olivia said as she pulled one out to look at it. “Thank you, really.”
“These shoes you will not ditch.”
The ladies laughed again, and Olivia hugged Allete tightly. “No, I promise.”
They helped her step into the shoes, and once she was ready, walked her to the door. Olivia had no idea what tonight was going to bring, but avoiding Quincy was going to be key.
***
Already, it was turning into a long night, and the ball hadn’t even officially started yet. Quincy waited for his father to finish getting ready in his royal chambers. The last few days hadn’t been easy, and he wasn’t looking forward to a long night of dealing with whatever Olivia was going through. He’d gone to her room a few times to talk to her, but each time, he couldn’t even get himself to knock.
“Stop looking so dour, Son. This is a ball, and you are the star of it,” his dad said as one of his servants adjusted his overcoat. “Ladies will be lined up to dance with you all night long, and perhaps one of them will sweep you off your feet.”
“Maybe I don’t want to make a decision yet,” Quincy said. “I’m not too thrilled about doing it, you know.”
His father frowned and waved away his servants so he could face his son. “You do not have a choice in this matter. You must follow tradition and marry. Any of those women would work well for you and this kingdom.”
“Are you sure about that? Have you actually sat down with any of them?”
“I have, and with their parents. There is nothing wrong with any of them.”
“That you know of,” he muttered and sunk down in his chair like a pouting child. “I do not feel well. I think I might not go tonight.”
Lamont glared at his son and told the servants to leave the room. Quincy cursed, knowing what was coming and not in the mood to be lectured again. “You have been dragging your feet for a long time,” his father admonished. “What are you waiting for, Quin?”
“Maybe I just don’t want to make a rash decision concerning the rest of my life. Can’t you understand that?”
“I can, but that doesn’t mean you are going to get out of it any time soon.”
Quincy stood and paced around the room. “Isn’t there anything you can do about it? You’re the damn king! Change the law… Do something—I don’t care.”
“It’s not a law,” Lamont said, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“No, that’s right, it’s your law. This damn tradition from this damn family that maybe I no longer want to be a part of! I don’t want to do this right now. I don’t want to do it ever!”
“You don’t mean that,” Lamont said, but his eye twitched at his son’s words.
Quincy breathed heavily and felt his mind clear for the first time in months. Did he really mean that? He had never been anything but a prince, and he felt his freedom and his life were quickly slipping away as he scrambled to pick up the pieces of himself before he lost them completely. Getting married sealed the deal that this was going to be his life forever. There’d be no getting out of it. His father would retire one day, and he would have to take over, be the responsible man, and run a damned country.
“Quin... Son,” Lamont said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I know being in our family isn’t always easy, but this is the life you were born into. You must accept it.”
“But do I have to do it now?”
“The sooner the better. We need heirs to carry on our legacy, and that, I’m afraid, has come down to you,” Lamont said. “Do you really want the Pentacrafts taking over?”