On the rare occasions I’d found myself in the same event as her, I’d watched Bristol from a distance. But she’d never seen me. I’d made certain she never saw me watching her from the fringes of the royal elite.
Desiring. Wanting.
But forbidden.
Not until this evening had I ever let her eyes land on me, and I already regretted the increased awareness I felt because of it.
“I can’t believe you two have never met. Two of my closest friends, and never so much as a hello between you. How did I manage that?” He laughed, and I shrugged in response.
I didn’t dare tell him I’d made sure I would never meet Bristol Chaisson of Theodosia. If I yearned for her from twenty feet away, I didn’t want to consider what may happen if she stood within my reach for even a moment. I would never betray Holden or Lantis that way. “I suppose we’ve never had occasion to meet. I’ve rarely left Lantis except for school, and it’s not as though she went to University with us.”
“I suppose that’s true. I must rectify that. I wouldn’t want the first time you two meet to be at our wedding.” My hold on the glass tightened to the point that I wondered if it might shatter, knowing our meeting became more and more inevitable with every day that passed. I’d have to touch her hand, kiss her cheek in greeting, hear her speak my name and watch her plump lips smile around the sound.
And I’d do it knowing she was officially promised to another man.
But short of ending my friendship with Holden, there would be no way to avoid that meeting. “That would be awkward timing. Your best man meeting your bride for the first time when she says ‘I do.’”
“We can’t have that, given the spectacle my parents are planning. But Bristol’s good, at any rate. As good as can be, I suppose,” Holden sighed. He looked to his feet, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. “It should feel like a hit to my confidence that she doesn’t look forward to being my wife.”
“I imagine it would be hypocritical, since you don’t want her either,” I said, the brittle edges of my annoyance leaking out of my voice.
“She’s beautiful. I can’t deny that, but she’s pretty in the way Faith or Louisa are pretty," Holden said, his face twisting into a grimace. I imagined the two of them on their wedding night, compelled by their duty to the Country they ruled together. Hating every second of it, but trapped by circumstances.
The thought alone was enough to fill me with fury.
Bristol was a woman who deserved to be worshiped. She deserved to feel as though she was her husband's oasis from the rest of the world. Not just another obligation.
"You're fortunate to have a bride who will make a good Queen. Someone you get along with and don't need to worry about petty dramatics if she should want your attention," I pointed out, staring at one of the Princesses who tried to catch another Prince's focus. “I could only be so lucky.”
Holden scoffed as he turned his attention to the same thing I was watching. "I suppose you're right about that. Bristol will never demand attention from any man. She's far too headstrong to appear so needy. Besides, demanding my attention would require her to want it in the first place." He shrugged his shoulders, not even slightly hurt by his soon-to-be betrothed’s lack of interest in him.
"Perhaps. But maybe it would be best if you tried to appreciate her. Since you have a lack of choice or control," I snapped, as my eyes landed on where Alina danced with Corbin. The old oaf stumbled through their dance, stepping on her feet and uncaring with the way my sister's face twitched in pain every time he crushed her toes. Just one more marriage beyond my control.
One more woman I cared for that I couldn't do a damn thing to protect against the circumstances of her life.
He turned and studied me curiously for a moment, his eyes finally following mine and landing on Alina. His suspicion softened to understanding. "Believe me, I appreciate her in our own way. Putting the two of us together so often since we were kids made it so we became best friends, Aric. But sadly, that’s all we’ll ever be. I have to accept it, as she struggles to do as well, I’m sure.” He paused, his lips twisting as he contemplated whatever thought crossed his mind. "And what of you? Surely the time has come for you to pursue a wife of your own?"
"I've yet to meet anyone of interest," I returned, my tone dismissive. It wasn't a complete lie, at least; not anyone within the realm of possibility for me. "I refuse to settle for someone I don't love, or at the very least care for. I know I may need to one day, but I just have to hope someone promising makes herself known before then." I couldn't be certain if I was working harder to convince him or myself of the possibility.
I already knew no one would tempt me the way Bristol did.
I dropped my empty tumbler on a tray as a server passed, turning a bitter smile to Holden. To the man who had my entire world at his feet and saw none of it for the beauty it was. "I’m sorry, Holden. It’s great to see you, but I think I’ll get some air.”
He nodded, giving my back several pats as I moved to pass him. “If it’s any consolation, I wish you luck in finding what you’re looking for. I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.”
If only he knew that if luck were truly on my side, then fate would give me Bristol. My jaw tightened at the disloyal thought, and with no further words I nodded and walked off, making my way to the doors at the back of the ballroom. The terrace called my name. The privacy and fresh ocean breeze seemed like a beacon in the bleak reality of my future.
If I escaped the crowds, then perhaps for just a few moments I could breathe and be myself. As soon as I inhaled the fresh air into my lungs, I felt better. Less trapped by circumstance and propriety.
Free and not drowning in the perfume and cologne of the desperate.
4
Bristol
It took far too long for me to navigate my way through the ballroom and find another glass of champagne. Given the obvious nature of my match with Holden, none of the Kings or Princes bothered to approach me, but many of the women I'd gone to school with or knew through social events wanted to catch up. They came for brief snippets of conversation while they caught their breath between dances. Hoping the next royal would be so charmed by the three minutes of conversation during a dance that another would be irrelevant.
As if most of the Kings at the ball gave a damn about conversation, when all they really cared about was what was under our skirts.
For just a few moments, I let myself feel grateful that my match with Holden saved me from that same fate. It meant I didn't have to parade around with my breasts thrust up to my neck or playing the part of a demure virgin just waiting for a husband to defile me. Even if the latter was true, I'd be damned to hell if I had to swoon at a pathetic pickup line or feign a blush over sexual innuendo.
A Princess I might be, but I refused to be stupid about the ways of a modern woman. Propriety mattered, but I suspected knowledge was more important.
By the time I touched the doors to the terrace and tugged one of them open to step through, I'd exhausted the small reserve of energy I’d set aside for the evening, of an entire week of socializing and pretending to be happy for the couples that emerged. When all I wanted was to find a man who made me feel alive. To experience just a moment of the rush people spoke of when describing love and attraction.