“We’ll be there.”
“Who is he?” I ask Frederick once the man is gone.
“His name is Alaric. He’s King Balthus’s first-born son.”
“He’s a prince of Valsta?” I ask, surprised he’s human.
I was so certain…
Frederick nods. “Unofficially. He was born out of wedlock, so his younger half-brother is the king’s heir.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“Lesley came down with a stomach ailment last night,” Alex says, joining the conversation. “Alaric is an impeccable pianist, so I asked him to fill in.”
“You certainly have friends in high places,” I say.
Alex offers me a smile. It’s almost as if we’re sharing a secret. “So it seems.”
My stomach warms, and I look away, embarrassed by my reaction. Why am I still drawn to him after all this time? We barely know each other.
Frederick and Lord Cavinder excuse themselves, claiming they have business this afternoon, leaving me with Alex. The others have also wandered out of the house, so it’s just the two of us. I watch as Alex tidies his desk and gathers his journal.
“Where are you meeting Alaric this evening?” I ask, mostly to distract myself from his strange mood.
“Didn’t I tell you?” He turns to face me. “There’s a gala at the castle to celebrate King Balthus’s birthday, and we’ve been invited. I had hoped you’d join us.”
I picture Mother’s monthly masquerades, and I cringe. “I think I’ll pass.”
A smile ghosts across Alex’s handsome face. Flipping through his notes, he says, “Perhaps I should rephrase. I was hoping you’d join me.”
It’s a difficult offer to refuse. And I suppose attending a royal gala with Alex at my side seems a fitting enough finale to my time in Davon.
“I don’t have anything to wear…”
He looks up, meeting my eyes. “You could wear rags, and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the room.”
Ignoring the way the words make my heart flutter, I frown. “I suppose I can find something.”
“I’ll walk you back to the hotel so you can prepare.”
Ten minutes later, I stare into my armoire, wishing I’d brought one of my gowns from home.
“I’ll have to visit the dress shop again,” I say. With a sigh, I close the doors, hoping they have something that will be suitable.
* * *
As I studymyself in the mirror, I wonder if I’ll blend in with the women of King Balthus’s court. I’m still not familiar enough with Davon’s fashion to know whether this gown was a good choice for the occasion, though the dressmaker assured me it was just right.
I run my hand across the black satin bodice and then over the swell of the full, blood-red, multitiered skirt, wondering if Alex will like it.
Then I glare at the mirror, wondering what’s gotten into me. He’s a human—just a human. A human who has been in my heart for too many years.
Tonight, I’m going to write the last page in this chapter of my life. Just for this evening, I’ll pretend I belong in this glittering capital city with Alex. And at the end of the night, I’m going to let him and my memories go.
The knock at the door fills me with dread. This is it—the beginning of the end. Our hours are numbered. I best make them count.
Slowly, I cross the room. When I answer the door, I pause. Alex stands before me, dressed for the evening. He looks handsome in his long jacket and waistcoat, respectable and debonaire. His dark blond hair is neatly combed, and he took the time to shave.