Page 50 of The Golden Princess

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“Once you’re best friends with a princess again, you won’t forget your other best friend, will you?” She gave me the most pathetic face imaginable, and I laughed.

“As if I could! I’m only going to this ball as Navid’s guest, but if I ever get an invitation of my own, I’ll be sure to take you along.”

Her eyes gleamed, and she sighed with delight. “Me, at a royal ball! Can you imagine?”

“Easily,” I assured her. “You would take the court by storm.”

That made her laugh, the dreamy look disappearing. “Now that is hardly likely. I don’t think I’m the sort to appeal to all those stuffy, important people.”

I laughed again. “Maybe not. But the younger ones would like you. I promise.”

She grinned. “That’s enough for me. Just promise you won’t let all the sadness of the last week stop you from seizing every bit of enjoyment you possibly can.”

I solemnly swore I would do my best, and her words came back to me as I prepared for the ball. It wasn’t Kasim’s death that made it hard to see the event as entertainment, though. Navid and I had been invited there for something closer to a secret war meeting than dancing. And it was hard to forget it with the constant threat hanging over us from the gang of thieves.

Our charade appeared to have been successful, so there was no obvious way they could trace Kasim’s identity. But there were too many unknowns. Who had seen Kasim leaving the city in the middle of the night with ten donkeys in tow? Even if it was just the gate guards, it must have been someone. Would the thieves have a way to interrogate them? It seemed impossible, but that assurance didn’t stop me jumping at shadows constantly.

Of course I had nothing in my wardrobe that would do for a royal ball, and I caught myself thinking wistfully of the stunningly beautiful ballgown I had briefly owned. It wasn’t a memory from my childhood at the palace—I had left there before I turned sixteen, so I hadn’t been old enough then for either balls or ballgowns. Rather it was the gift from the girl who was now Princess Cassandra of Ardasira that filled my thoughts, foolish as it was to waste time thinking of such an ephemeral garment. But it had been the most exquisite gown I had seen before or since.

I considered using some of the coins I had received in replacement of the dress to purchase myself a new gown. While few people knew about my possession of the coins, the local dressmakers would likely assume I had been given the money by Mariam or Navid.

But before I could act on my thoughts, Mariam approached me. She claimed that as a representative of the household, I was obligated to accept her gift of a gown. And then she produced an outfit that took my breath away.

It was as golden as the treasure of the cave and seemed to contain actual gold thread. The two pieces included a long, full skirt and a fitted bodice with elegant, puffed sleeves that pulled together at the wrists with yet more golden threads.

For a moment I imagined arriving at the palace in it, and then good sense reasserted itself.

“I can’t accept this,” I said, trying to hand it back to her.

She refused to take it, however.

“Yes, you can. And you must. For my sake. I can’t go, and so you must represent us all. Besides, I spent hours combing the city’s dressmakers to find it for you.”

I hesitated, but I couldn’t fight both her protestations and my own desires. I would wear the dress.

And when I did, I wouldn’t worry about whether her explanations were the truth or not. Whether she still felt the need to keep me on side with subtle bribes, or whether she meant it as a gesture of support for Navid’s apparent interest in me, it didn’t matter. The result was the same. I no longer had to worry about what I would wear to the ball.

On the journey to the palace at Navid’s side, I felt only gratitude to Mariam. I was about to enter a building that had once been my home—a building I hadn’t entered for a long time. It helped to have the confidence provided by such an outfit.

“Are you all right?” Navid asked softly as we joined the long procession making its way through the palace gates.

I drew a deep breath and considered his question. Was I all right?

Memories of my father flew at me from every direction, and I kept thinking of the first time I had entered here—an overawed child, clutching her father’s arm. On that occasion, he had been there to support and protect me, but I was on my own now.

No. I sternly took myself to task. That wasn’t right, and this was no time to give in to maudlin self-indulgence. Then I’d had my father. Now I had not only Navid beside me but Rek and Adara waiting for me. I wasn’t alone at all.

Leaving had been painful, and my father’s death even more so, but I had already spent years weighed down with the anchor of my past. I couldn’t afford to live that way anymore.

I straightened.

“I’m more than all right,” I told Navid. “I’m delighted to be back where I spent so many happy years.” If I said it enough, perhaps it would become the whole truth.

He gave me an approving nod and a pat on the arm which made me want to laugh. He treated me so much like an older brother that it was hard to believe the entire household thought he was falling for me.

Inside the gates, the first thing to hit me was the scent of perfume in the air. I almost lost my step, swept up into a powerful wave of memory as I remembered countless hours spent in the fragrant garden with its enormous bright flowers and plants in every shade of green.

But I caught myself and looked across the large courtyard to the sprawling palace building with its cream stone and gilt windows. Only after a long look at the building itself, did I turn for a glimpse of the garden which bordered the courtyard on both sides. The angle allowed only a hint of the vast expanse of garden within the palace walls, but nostalgia made me look anyway.


Tags: Melanie Cellier Fantasy