Chapter Three
Amber
The few hours after I climbed out of the car passed in a blur. I was escorted into the castle by a tight-lipped maid named who wore a stern smile and didn’t say very much at all. I hadn’t even had enough time to admire the stunning castle. Instead, I was ushered into the foyer, an elegant hall with marble floors, and up the impressive staircase onto the first floor.
I barely got the chance to drink in the splendor and glory of the winter castle. It was kitted out in luxurious, expensive fabric, chandeliers that looked like they belonged in an opera house, and works of art even I, the layman, recognized. I didn’t dare wonder out loud whether they were real or not. I had a feeling the truth would make my mouth gape open in shock.
The woman, who introduced herself as Melanie, showed me the west wing and explained all the competing girls would be living there. I had used the time during the tour of west wing to get a good impression of her. She was pretty in a doll-like way. Her eyes were large, clear and gray, just like Bruno’s. Her lips were full and pouty, and she had the palest skin that looked almost translucent, with the smatterings of freckles over her skin giving her an ethereal beauty and offsetting her chocolate brown hair. If all the women in Europe looked like this, I was in deep trouble.
While we were walking around, I caught glimpses of young women snickering and walking around in peers. My competition! I thought to myself, biting my bottom lip. Hell, it was better than nothing, and better than my poor nails.
My heart sped up at the thought of having to compete for Prince Olivier. I didn’t want to do it. A selfish part of me wanted him to send traditions to hell and just pick me. But here I was nonetheless, with twelve other women competing for the Prince’s heart. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to turn down the offer. I would do anything to have him back… and I would do even more for his hefty wallet.
Melanie explained there was a common dressing room as well as a powder room, where all of us were supposed to get ready. Our introductions would happen that evening at seven p.m. in the royal ballroom.
I felt shivers going down my spine as I nodded my understanding to the maid.
“You will be ready at six,” she reminded me. “We won’t wait for anyone, and we don’t tolerate any disobedience.”
“Of course,” I smiled politely. She seemed pleased by this too and hesitated before taking a step forward and motioning for me to come closer, too.
I leaned in and she whispered in my ear, saying, “I think you’re more beautiful than any of the other women here. And I know you’re Olivier’s first choice.”
“Thank you,” I managed, finding it hard to hide my surprise. “Are you… close with Olivier?”
Sudden images of Olivier with Melanie appeared in my mind. She was beautiful, thin and tall where I was curvy and petite. Even in her maid uniform, she was unforgettably beautiful. And after all, I was nothing more than a girl from the wrong side of the tracks… just like her. Maybe Olivier had a type.
“No, not really,” she admitted, and I glared at her, trying to find the trace of a lie in her face and coming up empty. “It’s just a rumor around the castle. You are the thirteenth girl, aren’t you?”
I hesitated before grinning. “I suppose I am.”
She nodded with a conspiratorial smile before retreating. She gave me one last look over her shoulder and left me in my room where my luggage was already waiting. Once she left the room, I finally let myself exhale the breath I’d been holding in since I stepped into the castle.
I was convinced I’d run into Olivier, anxious with the thought of seeing him soon. The need to impress him was so intense it made me clench my fists as I explored the bedroom I’d been given.
It was like something out of a magazine, decked out in luxurious fabrics and opulent decorations. It screamed of money and taste, a beautiful testament to the decorator as well as the Luxurian royal family.
The room was decorated in tones of plum, rich cream and champagne with golden accents. The centerpiece of it was an enormous bed with a frame made from beautiful white wood, overlaid with gold leaf. It was decked out in huge purple pillows with pearls embroidered into the fabric, and a matching duvet. A chandelier hung above the bed, adorned with a golden rosette and even more plum silk creating a gorgeous effect on the ceiling. A curled futon stood in front of the bed, and opposite of it, there was an oversized vanity with a plush champagne-colored velvet chair in front. The room screamed of money and good taste, and I was gaping as I took a good look at everything.
From the light fixtures to the marble tub in the en-suite rose-marble bathroom, it was spectacular. We’d been strictly forbidden from bringing cameras or phones, but it made me wish I could snap a few pictures, so I could show them to Rose afterward.
My fingertips touched the brocade on the bedframe, and my eyes admired the view of the royal gardens outside the window. This was like something out of a fairytale, something I’d never expected to happen to me, a simple dancer from London.
I realized six p.m. wasn’t so far away anymore, and the thought of seeing all the other girls as I got ready made me worry. What would I be competing against? I had no doubt the women were beautiful, intelligent and with a pedigree to match their family fortune.
But who am I? I thought to myself, feeling bitter. Someone no one even cares about. A little nobody from Westminster. No money, no fancy name, and not a very pretty face to match. Why would Prince Olivier pick me?
But he already had… At that party Rose and Thorn had thrown in my honor, he’d had eyes only for me. And I couldn’t stop thinking about him since then, mind and soul consumed with the need to be back in his arms.
Sometimes I tried to pretend I was only doing this for the money, but the more I tried to convince myself, the more I realized how far from the truth it was.
I wanted Olivier. Not for his wallet, but for everything he was that made my stomach flutter with butterflies at the mere thought of him.
The introductions that night meant I wouldn’t just come face to face with my competitors, but with Olivier as well. The fact made me nervous, but I couldn’t stop the smile tugging on the corners of my lips.
I pulled out dress after dress from my suitcases. The dress code for the event suggested château getaway fashion, which sounded vague and ridiculous to me, but which the other girls would surely understand. But Thorn had been nice enough to splurge on a whole new wardrobe for me, and now I had outfits that made me look truly beautiful.
Melanie explained the event would be semi-formal but made a note of dressing to please the prince. As I was going through my clothes, I tried to keep that in mind. What would Olivier like to see me in?
Remembering the night we met, I knew I was barely wearing anything… but I needed to be dressed up for this occasion. Yet I wanted to make an impression on him. After all, it had been six months since we’d last seen one another.
I pulled out dress after dress, and the heels that went with them. Unable to settle on one, I put a few of the outfits on my bed and stared at them, hoping a magic answer would appear.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. My eyebrows shot up, wondering who it could be. Perhaps just a maid? Maybe Melanie had forgotten to tell me something.