with a high mental and physical cost? If so, Ruben wondered if that meant he wasn’t as abnormal and as isolated as he’d feared.
The potential felt enormous. Just the idea that he might not be alone in this felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. He took his father’s arm, trying to frame the words properly so that he didn’t give too much away. “How long have you—”
Someone shouted for the king, cutting Ruben off before he could finish asking his question. As they hurried over, he figured maybe it was for the best. He could probably learn more by keeping his mouth shut and observing. He definitely didn’t want his father guessing that something serious might be wrong with his only son and heir.
As she quickly made up her bed, Willow saw something stuck between the pillow and the edge of the wall. Leaning in, she picked it up and froze. An earring. One of the dangly pearl earrings she’d worn last night. Her heart thudded hard in her chest. The ancient and valuable set had belonged to her mother and, as most of the queen’s jewelry did, contained magic only she could access. Willow had borrowed them without permission, intending to return them quickly, before her mother noticed. With everything that had happened, she’d completely forgotten about them.
One earring. Her hand shook as she cradled it in her palm. One perfect, slightly sooty, pearl earring with unknown magical powers. Oh, shades. The queen would certainly notice if the set wasn’t returned intact. She had to find the other.
Frantic, she looked. A search of her bedding revealed nothing. Ditto under the bed and on the surrounding floor. Think, Willow. Think. Since she’d obviously showered last night with the jewelry on—how could she have been so oblivious?—she checked the bathroom and the shower. Nothing.
Shadefire and double shadefire. Heart sinking, she tried to think. One of her mother’s perfect pearl earrings was missing. How long until her mother noticed? The way Willow’s luck seemed to be running, the queen would decide to wear them today. She’d fly into a rage when she couldn’t find them. And Willow knew where her mother would look first. Not to Tatiana. No, Willow would have a lot of explaining to do.
After the breakfast, she had to find the other. If it wasn’t here … Her pulse skipped a beat. She must have left it in Teslinko, at the prince’s palace, most likely somewhere in the ashy ruins of the ballroom. After the breakfast, she’d return there. That is, if she could sneak away without anyone noticing, and try to find it.
Plan made, she hurried to get ready for the breakfast, well aware her mother wouldn’t appreciate it if she was late after her conspicuous absence at the welcome reception the night before.
And she’d have to do her best to steer clear of whatever scheme her sister was concocting. She had enough trouble already. No sense in borrowing any more.
“Something is going on with my sister,” Tatiana murmured to Prince Chad. She liked him, she really did. They’d been seated next to each other at the breakfast table, Chad on her left and her betrothed, Prince Eric, on her right.
Chad’s faded violet gaze sharpened. “How so?”
Since Willow hadn’t shown up yet, and he had no idea what kind of bride their combined parents had saddled him with, she hid her smile and shook her head, sending her glorious hair swaying. “I’m not certain. I’ll watch her and see if I can get her to tell me.”
He nodded, already looking bored with the subject. As he held her left hand under the table, he’d begun drawing circles in the middle of her palm with his thumb. She shivered, unable to believe how erotic such a small touch could be.
That, plus the fact that he dared take such liberties right under the watchful eye of his brother made it doubly thrilling.
They were two of a kind, she and Prince Chad. If Willow wouldn’t play along, Tatiana would try some other scheme to switch bridegrooms.
“What are you two talking about?” Eric turned and leaned closer, his perfect white teeth flashing in a face that carried exactly the right amount of tan. Studying him, from his patrician features and bright violet eyes, to his hair the exact same shade of gold as hers, Tatiana knew on the surface that no one would understand why she didn’t want him. He was perfect, every girl’s dream of a prince. Like Prince Charming in the old stories.
In looks, he was exactly like her. Her mirror image.
Tatiana never fooled herself or tried to hide from her flaws. She was, she knew, vain and shallow and often bad tempered. The most important person in her life was, and would always be, herself. She didn’t care about others’ feelings or charity work or any kind of endeavor that might involve selfless giving. She adored luxuries, adulation and being cosseted, not necessarily in that order.
She sensed Prince Eric was the exact same way. Like her inside as well as out. She’d known instinctively an instant after meeting him. Left alone together for too long, they’d either kill each other or—and this was more likely—their relationship would eventually dissolve into icy indifference. After that, the affairs and love children and scandals and misery would swiftly follow. The stain on her reputation would be more than she could bear.
There were quick scandals—such as what would happen if she switched fiancés—and those that were soul-sucking, psyche-damaging and lasted for an eternity. Marriage to Eric would cause the latter.
Therefore, Tatiana would not marry him, regardless of what her parents had promised his. The way she figured, she had one way out, as unlikely as it might seem. Her plan was comprised of two parts. First, she had to get Prince Eric to fall in love with her younger sister.
And second, she had to make Price Chad fall in love with her.
The second part was easy. No man had ever been able to resist her once she started batting her long lashes his way. Judging from his hand-holding activity, Prince Chad would prove to be no exception.
Yet another challenge that wasn’t. Oddly disappointing, that.
Tatiana found she genuinely liked the younger prince, at least on first impression. Though also fair skinned with golden hair and about the same height, he lacked a certain symmetry of features, and was a rugged-looking man rather than a beautiful one. Personality-wise, she could already tell he was as different from his older brother as she was from her younger sister.
Plus, she suspected he worshipped her already, which in her opinion would make their union a match made in heaven. One absolute in her life was that she needed to be the worshippee rather than the worshipper.
“Would you fetch me some more coffee, my dear?” With a smarmy smile, Prince Eric tapped her on the shoulder like she was his personal maid.
Stiffening, Tatiana fought the urge to tell him to get it himself. Instead, she smiled sweetly. “We have servants for that. All you need to do is hold up your hand and signal one of the waitstaff. See, there are several standing over by the silver coffee urn.”
Instead of being mollified, he pouted. “I’d rather you get it. Such a personal gesture carries so much meaning, don’t you think?”
Right, she thought. So much meaning. In a sad little way, he was right, because if she scurried to do his bidding, she’d be setting a precedent for the rest of their lives together. That is, if she was unlucky enough to actually marry him. She simply had to finagle her way out of this.
Clenching her jaw, she kept her pretty smile in place. No, she wouldn’t be jumping up to fetch and
