Page 48 of Of Curses and Courtship

This is how Helena shows her friendship. I know thatnow, and volunteering me for the ball doesn’t go against the boundaries I set. I never told her she couldn’t find memorework, just that she could not interfere with my work.

Like a typical fae, she found a loophole.

“It doesn’tbotherme. I’m happy for him.” I run my fingers over my silky braid. “It’s only that I was looking forward to an evening to myself. That’s all.”

“Well, too bad. You’re coming to work withme.”

“How wonderful.” I sigh. “I’m unhappy with the outcome, but… I will be there. Just for you.”

Helena and I are still close friends—perhaps more than that. She reminds me more and more of a meddling sister.

Still, she is frustrating. I don’t want to be at this party, nor do I wish to consider that she might have a point. I’m sour at the thought of seeing the prince with his betrothed. It should be an honor, even if my role is feeding and cleaning up rather than attending as a guest.

But it’s not. There’s only one thing on my mind, a thought I would prefer to keep buried, one I could never speak aloud.

Why, oh why, is he marrying someone else?

“Smile,”Helena says in a sing-song voice as she passes by. “Look like youwantto be here.”

The evening of his betrothal party comes too soon, and I’m still queasy and trembling. There’s much to be nervous about, things that have little to do with Emyr and the stomach ache he constantly gives me.

I’ll be in the same room as the king and queen. I’ll be working for them and waiting on them. Most of my tasks around the kingdom have been cleaning. I dust, scrub the floors, and sweep—and I find comfort in those tasks.

Tonight, I wear a gown far nicer than my usual. Ratherthan black and white, my dress is red, but still draped with my apron and completed with the little white hat. This is a special occasion, but I’m not special. I’m no more than a speck of dust floating through.

I’ve spent years walking through rooms that didn’t want me in them, but now, without a soul looking in my direction, I’m more out of place than before. It’s not enough to make me miss my old life, but if such events become a trend, I may long for Lady Ashbridge’s cool stare.

Is such a gaze, so full of hatred, better than being overlooked?

At least the room is beautiful. For the first time since I arrived at the Sun Palace, it is lively. Golden pixies float around the space, no bigger than a few inches, lighting it up with their presence. Orbs of magic illuminate the ballroom. Attendees are draped in brightly colored fabric, blurs of motion as they float and spin on the dance floor, with sparkling chandeliers towering overhead. Merriment floats through the room, jovial laughter and the clink of drinking glasses.

“Idon’twant to be here,” I whisper to Helena.

“Too bad!”

She’s right—it trulyistoo bad. I walk through the room with a small tray, offering refreshments to those who lack the courtesy to thank me. With each glass of sparkling wine I pass, the bitterness grows.

And there she is. Princess Minetta. Her hair is scarlet, and her soft, blue gown appears to have been made just for her, clinging to her slender body. I once wore a gown like that, but now, I pale in comparison. Not only is she the princess Emyr loves, but she is supposed to bemyprincess. If I were born in the land of the fae, in the Moon Palace, she would have been.

Perhaps that is the root of my jealousy. I have no ties tomy home, and she does. She is more tied than I could ever hope to be.

My lower lip trembles. For reasons I cannot fully understand, I find myself fighting off tears.

“Little halfling,” a low voice murmurs in my ear.

Emyr. His voice has been living in my mind since we met in the tavern.

I turn, and his silvery white hair brushes against my cheek. He smells like sunlight and fresh grass; I only want to bask in his presence. That is no longer possible. He is betrothed to someone else, and I’m only here to bring him drinks.

“You shouldn’t speak to me unless you would like a drink,” I whisper.

“Hm…” He steps back and inspects the glasses on my tray. “Are the drinks any good?”

“How am I supposed to know? I’m not allowed to drink at this event. It isyourevent, Your Highness.”

“You always remember decorum just a second too late.” He plucks the glass from the tray. “Besides, I was testing you. This is my third drink of the night.”

“Unsurprising. I pegged you as a lush the very day we met.”