“It’s perfectly all right. I assumed you were a newcomer. I surely would have remembered seeing a girl like you,” the prince said with another dazzling smile.
I blushed and averted my eyes. Compliments made me supremely uncomfortable, especially when they came from the dauphin of France I’d insulted a year ago. But it was obvious that he didn’t remember me. If he did, I can’t imagine his reaction would have been quite so pleasant.
“What is your name, mademoiselle?” he asked as he bowed at the waist.
“Cinder,” I blurted out in a panic.
My fireplace-cleaning adventure from earlier in the evening was the only thing on my mind in the moment. It was silly, but I didn’t dare use my real name. While I didn’t think the dauphin would recognize me, I didn’t want it getting back to Lady Catherine that I was here just yet. It would be better to keep my identity secret for a little while longer so I could enjoy the ball in peace.
“Cinder? What an unusual name.”
“It’s what my father used to call me.”
“Would the lady care to reveal her given name?”
I bit my lip and looked away from his searching gaze, off into the crowd of courtiers. Where was Lady Françoise? She promised she would be back soon. Hadn’t it already been at least fifteen minutes?
“Ah, a girl of mystery. How intriguing,” the prince said contemplatively.
That wasn’t good. I didn’t want to seem intriguing to a pampered prince. I wanted to enjoy the ball. Alone.
“I’m really not so mysterious.”
Before I could finish my sentence, the dauphin grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the dance floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Will you honor me with a dance, Lady Cinder?” he asked with great confidence.
“Oh! I’m not sure I deserve such an honor.” I tried to pull away, but he held my hand tightly.
“Nonsense. All the lovely young ladies at the ball should have the honor of dancing with me,” he said, dropping my hand to walk up to the musicians sequestered in an antechamber just off the main hall.
It would be so impolite to refuse, and the dauphin took my hand again and started pulling me forward.
The dauphin clapped his hands and called, “Begin the music!”
The musicians struck up a tune for a lively gavotte. I sighed in relief. The gavotte was a dance that required four participants, made up of two couples. We formed a square with another couple, each couple facing the other, and with a series of little hops that were much less strenuous to perform than those in the rigaudon, began switching places in the square. Each dancer inhabited every corner of the square before finally returning to their original spot. It was a short dance, thankfully, and one that I quite enjoyed.
I might have enjoyed it even more if the dauphin hadn’t held me so close, as if I were property that he already owned. When it came time for us to switch positions, twirling gracefully around each other in the middle of the square, his hand brushed mine, lingering for just a moment before we parted. There was no reason at all for a couple to touch during a gavotte. If I were any of the highborn maidens, I would have been thrilled, but even a year later, I found his arrogance off-putting. My stomach felt queasy, as if I had eaten something bad.
Beyond my father, I hadn’t had much experience with men. There was Auguste, of course, but I didn’t think our youthful flirtation counted as experience. I truly hoped I would see him tonight. I wasn’t upset about his deception. Not anymore. Such a silly lie seemed inconsequential after everything I’d been through.
Louis’s hand brushed mine again. After finishing the steps, I glanced back to see him gazing at me. There was no mistaking his attention. Sweet revenge after the way he had initially dismissed me when we first met.
Lady Adalene had mentioned that he was going to be choosing twenty-five women to court during the upcoming season tonight, but naturally, he would choose the daughters of foreign dignitaries or high-ranking nobles. I was the daughter of a high-ranking noble, but he didn’t know that yet.
An enthusiastic round of applause greeted the end of the dance. Of course, most of that was for the dauphin, but at least some of it had to be for me. At least, I imagined it was. I’d done well for being so rusty. I hadn’t tripped on my train, and I’d executed the steps as accurately as possible. Pride flared in my chest. It felt nice to be recognized for doing something well.
I curtsied to my dance partners while the dauphin bowed. I tried to follow the other couple off the dance floor, but Prince Louis slid in front of me, blocking my path.
He took my hands in his with a flourish and said, “I must take my leave, Lady Cinder. I enjoyed dancing with you immensely. Thank you for doing me the honor. I hope to see you again very soon.”
The dauphin grinned at me, bowed, and left the dance floor, heading in the direction of the king’s dais. A wave of nobles parted for him as he walked by, creating a clear path through the Hall.
I hope to see you again very soon.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see him again. My face was warm, and I could feel perspiration beading at my hairline and temples. What I did want was to reclaim my stool and catch my breath.
Spinning around to make my way back to the mirrors, I smacked right into the chest of someone else blocking my path off the dance floor.
“I’m sorry, Monsieur. I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s no trouble at all. I was in your—”
I knew that voice. It was the man from the market. I looked up to see a face I knew very well, a face I treasured dearly, staring back at me with a surprised look of his own.
Chapter Twenty
“Auguste?” I gasped, my voice little more than a whisper. “It was you at the market!”
“It was me,” he said, a blush coloring his cheeks.
“But you’re so tall!” And so much more handsome than I remembered.
He smiled. “It’s good to see you again.”
I stepped backward, bumping into a couple performing the first steps of the next dance. They glared at me as I jumped out of their way only to end up in the path of yet another pair of dancers. I looked around the dance floor and realized that it had filled considerably. Everyone was partnered to dance the allemande, one of the most popular court dances, especially for young lovers. It was one of the few dances where you could hold your partner’s hand throughout. Auguste and I were stuck right in the middle of the pack of dancers.
Auguste held his hand out to me. “Would you care to dance? Courtiers can become quite put out when their dancing is interrupted, and I don’t think we’re getting out of here any other way. We can talk after.”