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That comment raises my hackles once again.
"You were going to get through the night just fine seeing as how you didn't think I was invited," I spit out.
"Please," he begs. "You look...ravishing. I need your presence to be sane."
I roll my eyes but nod my head. He brushes a kiss across my lips.
"I don't ever want another man's hands on you, ever again. Tell me you understand."
I refuse to acknowledge the command, and finally he slips away. I wait one more minute before following him inside.
The rest of the night I don't shy away from dancing with anyone who asks, James didn't tame me completely with our moment in the foyer. But instead of looks of hate, James and I sneak silent looks of longing and love. I notice that he is very careful to be formal in his interactions with The Princess. Much to my satisfaction, I can see that she is very aware of the change in his demeanor.
I finally find myself in James's arms towards the end of the night. I can feel the eyes of everyone on us, wondering why The Prince is deigning to dance with me. But I don't care. We float around the room, our eyes locked on each other. Neither of us utters a word. We don't have to. Everything that needs to be said has been said, and now it's just time to wait.
When the last notes of the song fade off, we're still for a second. Holding on to one another a bit longer than is considered decent, our hearts seem to reach out to one another, reaffirming our love.
I can wait just a little bit longer I decide.
As he bows to me, and I politely curtsy, the eyes that I feel the heaviest on me are those of The Princess. Despite my better judgment, I lift my head to meet her eyes across the room, issuing a silent challenge.
I'm silent in the carriage ride home. My father opens his mouth several times to ask something, but then must decide it's better not to because I never actually hear from him.
Later, lying in bed, I look out the window and wish on every star I can see that James will be mine.
James Kensington
A few weeks pass with no word.
And then all hell breaks loose.
I first hear it from the servants gossiping in the hallways. Whispers of "The Prince" and "The French" find their ways into my ears, and soon I'm cornering one of the maids in the solar room.
"Agnes, the servants seem to be in a tiff about something. Do you happen to know what's going on?" I ask innocently.
She looks over at me wryly. Agnes has been in the manor since I was a little girl. She knows me well enough to know that the bland tone I'm trying so hard to use is hiding something.
"There's rumors that the French princess was seen in her carriage heading back to France, Mistress," she says to me.
My stomach drops, and I feel like I'm falling from the sky.
"Where did you hear that?" I ask, my voice coming out strained.
"It's all anyone can talk about. Beatrice was buying cloth in the market at the same time as a servant from The Palace, and the servant said that the whole place was in an uproar. Evidently the King and the Prince screamed at each other the whole day before... and then suddenly The Princess was gone," she says excitedly, the news giving her cheeks a rosy hue.
"Has anyone said why?" I ask breathlessly.
"Rumor is that The Prince requested a love match," she replies excitedly.
I sit down shakily in a chair.
"Are you alright, Mistress?" asks Agnes, looking concerned over what I'm sure is my too pale expression.
"Yes, I'm fine," I mutter, my mind racing with possibilities.
Agnes throws me one more concerned look before leaving the room.
He came for me three hours later.
