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The Duke and Duchess of Belcourt.
They don’t look like members of the royal family hanging onto a tenuous relationship to their land and titles. They look completely at ease with themselves and with our destination this evening.
Our destination being Farcliff Castle, for the annual Royal Christmas Ball.
This year, the entire Kingdom is coming. It’s the new heir’s first Christmas. His Highness Prince Charlie is the first child of the new King and Queen. There was some controversy with King Charlie taking the throne beside a commoner, Queen Elle, but I personally adore them. They thumbed their nose at tradition and followed love.
Unlike Maggie, who will need to marry crotchety old Count Gregory to make sure our little sister can go to college.
Everyone who’s anyone is going to the ball to welcome the young heir into the world. Everyone, including my parents and me—even though I’m not sure we qualify as people who matter.
I clear my throat, trying to hide my nerves. I’ve only been to the castle once in the past ten years, at which time I told the former King that I liked his mustache, but had he ever considered dyeing it so it matched his hair?
Foot-in-mouth, remember?
Reading my mind, Maggie smiles at me, pulling me from my thoughts. She dips her chin down as if to say, You’ll be fine. Stop worrying.
Kiera gasps, looking up from her laptop. “The Duke of Blythe is attending.” Her fingers fly over the keyboard, presumably to pull up every available photo and live stream of the ball. Her cheek turns pink as her eyes bug out. “He looks so hot.”
“Kiera,” Mother chides, pinching her lips. “That’s no way for a lady to speak.”
“It’s the truth,” my little sister replies, spinning the laptop around. A photo of the reclusive Duke of Blythe stares back at me, and my knees go weak. Even in an unposed, unedited paparazzi photo, Kiera’s right. He looks more than human, like he was made just a little too perfect to be real. His eyes are an impossibly complicated shade of green, like the color of a forest canopy in midsummer. His strong, chiseled jaw looks sharp enough to slice the laptop screen open.
Unlike my father, the Duke has chosen to keep a smattering of stubble over the lower half of his face. I don’t know why that makes my stomach clench.
The Duke inherited everything when his parents passed away four years ago, but everyone says he’s ruining himself and his estate. His parents were well-known musicians who started one of the finest piano-making businesses in the world. They hired all the best artisans and made Blythe Pianos famous worldwide. I’ve only ever played a Blythe piano once in my life, but I still remember the way it felt and sounded—incredible.
By all accounts, the Duke of Blythe spent the last four years running the family business into the ground. A little stubble on his jaw is the least of his worries.
Clearing my throat, I turn away from the screen and force a smile at my mother. “Ready?”
She extends a gloved hand toward me, giving me a soft smile. “You look beautiful, Ada.”
“Ada!” Kiera calls out behind me. I turn around to see a wicked, cheeky grin on her face. “Get a selfie with the Duke of Blythe and tell me if he’s as perfect in person as he is in photos. I bet he smells amazing.”
Kiera’s cheeks are red, her eyes shining with the energy of a young teenager. She stares at me expectantly as my mother makes a disapproving noise, but I can’t quite hide my smile.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I answer, earning an even louder disapproving noise from Mother.
My little sister squeals, throwing her laptop to the side and jumping up to give me a hug. She stops short at the last second, holding up her hands. “Don’t want to ruin your dress.”
I blow her a kiss. “I’ll get you a picture.”
Kiera smiles wider. “Thanks. The girls at school are so in love with him. Did you know he hasn’t left the Blythe Estate in over a year? They say he gets women delivered there along with all his food.”
“Kiera, that’s enough,” Mother snaps. “The Duke of Blythe values his privacy, and it’s completely inappropriate and unbecoming for you to be spreading nasty rumors about him. We all know what he’s been through. I wouldn’t want to leave my castle, either.”
Kiera pouts. “I heard his brother—”
“Enough.” My mother’s voice leaves no room for protest.
Kiera drops her chin, but flicks her eyes up to mine. There’s no remorse in them, only a deep, bubbling curiosity.
I grin. I suppose if I were fifteen, I’d be interested in a man like the Duke of Blythe, too.
The Duke is shrouded in controversy. His younger brother passed away four years ago, and they say his parents died of a broken heart shortly afterward. Within six months, the Duke lost his brother and both his parents and inherited the lands, titles, the business, and responsibility of the dukedom.
It caused ripples in Farcliff high society.
