Our eyes met across the room and she parted her lips in a surprised o-shape that was soon replaced by a delighted smile. I winked at her, smirking before returning my attention to my mother.
In a few minutes, we’d all sat down around the large, intricately cut oak table, and the servants started coming out with the first course of our meal.
I’d been forced to sit next to my mother, with Freya taking the seat next to me, and Asya, the Turkish princess, the one opposite me. I kept glancing at Amber, but she kept her distance, sitting a few seats down from me. I guess it wasn’t fair to the other girls to keep picking her as a favorite… but how the fuck was I supposed to help myself?
That night especially, Amber looked like a fucking vision.
She wore a midi-length dress with thin spaghetti straps, the top of the dress draping across her bust and exposing the top of her décolletage in beautiful cobalt blue silk. The bottom of the dress was down to her knees in a gorgeous fluid fabric that elongated her limbs. She’d paired it with simple thin-strapped suede black sandals, and a white faux fur stole draped over her creamy shoulders. Her hair was down… and now I was staring, and my mother had caught on to it.
I glanced at her, seeing her displeasure right away.
“Enjoying dinner, mother?” I asked in a perfectly pleasant voice.
“Very,” she replied, tight-lipped.
A felt a sliver of remorse, realizing maybe I’d been too harsh on her. She was controlling, but she did only want the best for me, and I could hardly blame her for that. Of course, the moment I considered moving on, she piped up with another concern.
“Speak to Asya,” she bit out at me when no one was listening. “She’s the next best thing after Stephanie. A princess, Olivier! That’s exactly what this castle needs.”
She gave me a long look imploring me to do what she said, but the rebellious streak I’d once indulged in made me want to defy her. I turned to Freya instead, who seemed delighted at the prospect of my company.
We chatted for a while and I got to know her better, finding out she came from a family of three siblings, all boys. She spoke about her brothers with affection, and I liked how obvious it was that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. I liked an independent woman. It was that much sweeter to watch her submit for me.
“Olivier,” my mother interrupted, and I turned my eyes to her. She gave me another imploring look, glancing between myself and Asya, and I swallowed the reply my mind wanted to give her.
I turned my attention to Asya and engaged her in conversation.
She was beautiful, but then again, weren’t they all?
Asya’s features reminded me of a porcelain doll, all big eyes and plump, pouty lips. Her skin looked like porcelain and she smiled so prettily I wanted to capture every moment her lips turned up.
If I was being completely honest with myself, I had to admit I was very much enjoying my time with her. But I didn’t want to give her false hope. I already knew who would be left standing at the end of the competition.
Once our conversation ended, I gave her a smile and returned to my meal, but my mother wouldn’t have any of it. She turned to face me again, impatiently touching my hand with her cool fingers laden with expensive rings.
“Olivier,” she reminded me again. “Ask Asya about her country’s history. There’s so much to learn about Turkish culture… Not quite as brutish as I’d imagined!”
She laughed, and Asya returned a nervous smile, though I could tell she was uncomfortable.
And suddenly I’d had enough. Enough of my mother’s cloying presence, enough of her demands to pick a wife she approved of. It was my path, my journey to take, and I would end up with the woman she’d clearly despised from the beginning, hard as she might try to dissuade me from it.
“I need some air,” I growled, pushing my chair back, much to the annoyance of my mother.
“Stay,” she insisted. “They’re almost ready with the next course. I ordered them to serve quail eggs, Olivier – your favorite!”
“I’ll be back shortly,” I ground out without quite meeting her eyes.
I felt her gaze on the back of my neck as I made my way out of the room. She was angry, but I’d deal with that later. For now, I just needed to get some air. Get away from the cloying presence of my mother.
My thoughts were everywhere, scattered and leaving me wondering about what my purpose was in this fucking charade of the competition. It was obvious who I wanted to pick, though my mother seemed hell-bent on preventing it from happening. But we both knew the choice would be mine in the end, no matter how hard she tried to convince me otherwise.
I walked down the dimly lit hallway, not knowing where I was going. I just wandered the halls of the castle until my thoughts simmered down to a quiet rage. But at least it was the kind of emotion I knew how to control, and I was grateful that I’d managed to keep a lid on the situation.
I heard noises coming from ahead of me. Whimpers and whispers that were suddenly interrupted by a muffled cry.
All my senses were on high alert as I rounded the corner and came across a situation that made my blood boil.
A woman was standing against the wall, with a male figure looming over her. He had his palm pressed against her mouth, effectively muffling her cries for help. She was struggling against him, but he paid it no mind, his strong hands making sure she couldn’t move an inch.
Rage overwrote any other emotion I was feeling, and then the unthinkable happened. A ray of moonlight through the window illuminated the woman’s form. She was standing with her back to me and her hair glinted red in the darkness.
Amber!
“Hey!” I shouted, and the male figure froze as I strode closer. “Get your fucking hands off her!”
In a flash, the male figure disentangled himself from the woman. I was too far away to stop him, and before I could run after the guy, Amber collapsed against the wall. I reached her just in time to stop her fall, my arms cradling her body against mine, holding her up.
It took me a second to calm down and realize the woman in my arms wasn’t Amber at all. It was Eva, the Dutch beauty whom I’d chosen to be part of the competition solely because of her resemblance to my favorite girl. In the darkness, I’d mistaken her for my woman due to her flame-red hair.
Now, she was barely conscious, her eyes fluttering open and closed so fast I wasn’t sure whether she could see or hear me at all.
“Eva,” I said gently. “Open your eyes. You’re safe now. I’m going to make sure nobody hurts you anymore. You’re going to be okay.”
I looked after her assailant, knowing I had two choices.
I could run after the bastard, but that meant leaving Eva alone and vulnerable, and I couldn’t imagine what would happen in her shaky state. I held her closer, her scent assaulting my nostrils in a mixture of vanilla and citruses. It was sharp and sweet and completely intoxicating.
Once again, her lashes fluttered open, putting me face-to-face with the most beautiful hazel eyes. Those eyes that were a mix between brown and green and speckled with flecks that glittered in the darkness. She was exquisite… And I was getting lost in her beauty when I should have been proving to her how much better I was than the man who’d assaulted her. But for one second, one sick, twisted second, I actually understood why they stranger had cornered her. She was unmistakably beautiful, awakening an urge deep within me that I was desperate to quiet, but failed miserably in doing so.