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with Queen Cordelia.

“How long do you suppose we could go without dance partners?” I said, popping a raspberry into my mouth. I forced my voice to be light, hoping it didn’t betray the churning anxiety in my gut.

“However long it takes us to eat this entire table,” was Tori’s reply. She swallowed her bite of sandwich. “Actually, I ought to find my Pa. He said he would be arriving late.”

“Ah. The roads are crowded with carriages,” I said.

“Oh, no. He’s walking here.”

I raised my brows. “All the way to the palace?”

Tori took another bite of her sandwich. “Our place is a quarter mile from the west wing,” she said. “I would’ve walked here if I didn’t like these shoes so much.” She poked her foot out from her skirts, revealing a dainty high-heeled slipper encrusted with sapphires.

As she bent over, a gold coin tumbled out from her bodice, dangling from a chain around her neck. It bore a stamp of a lion and crossed swords, different from the standard coins of the kingdom.

“This is Captain Greenwood’s insignia,” Tori explained after noticing my interest. “Illustrious families usually have their own coins to reward to people of their choice. To us Strongfoots, it’s a symbol of merit.”

“You must really revere the captain,” I said.

Tori shrugged. “My Pa certainly does, but I haven’t met him.” She straightened. “And speaking of Pa, I think I see him.”

I sagged against the wall, picking at my berries. Was I doomed to spend the rest of the night alone?

Tori looped her arm around mine. “Don’t think I’m leaving you,” she said with a lopsided grin. There was a bit of bread stuck to her teeth, but it didn’t make her smile any less bright. “Pa’s been nagging me to find some proper lady friends. He’ll be over the moon to meet you. That is, unless you want to stay here.”

I spotted Lydia’s head amongst the crowd. She was probably looking for Genevieve, or worse, me. I had no desire to be forced into a dance with one of her friends’ sons.

“Not at all,” I told Tori, abandoning my plate.

Tori led me through the crowd to an open space near the exit. A large man with muscled arms and a protruding gut stood aimlessly about, looking extremely out of place with his grizzly black beard. His gray eyes lit up when we approached.

“There’s my girl!” he bellowed. “What did I miss? Wait, never mind that. How’s the food? Have they got any turkey legs?”

Tori grinned. “No, Pa. But they’ve got a load of candied pineapples.”

“Ah! My favorite. The best thing I ever tasted as a boy,” Lord Strongfoot said wistfully. He noticed me standing to the side. “And who is your pretty friend?”

“This is Amarante. Amarante Flora,” Tori said.

I dipped into a curtsy. “Good to meet you, Lord Strongfoot.”

“Now, none of that,” he said with a jolly laugh, grabbing my hand and shaking it profusely. My shoulder was nearly shaken out of my socket. “Any friend of Tori’s I welcome with open arms and no formalities. Though I do get a kick out of being called ‘lord’.”

“Don’t scare her away, now, Pa,” Tori said, giving my throbbing shoulder a pat.

“Impossible. I know you don’t make friends who scare easy,” Lord Strongfoot said, flashing me a toothy smile. “But what are you girls standing around for? This is a ball!”

Tori and I exchanged looks.

“Ah, suddenly shy, are you my girl?”

“I am nothing of the sort!” Tori said, affronted.

Lord Strongfoot tutted. “Now, now, there’s no shame in that. Back when I was courting your mother, I was a nervous as any lad, but I got over it. Everything turned out fine.” He thumped Tori on the shoulder. She bore it surprisingly well. “Look! Here comes a young man now.”

I turned around and found myself face to face with the waiter—no—Prince Ash. He was dressed in a crisp aquamarine waistcoat, his dark hair combed to the side. He had taken his crown off but it certainly didn’t diminish his princely appearance.

“Hello,” he said, grinning. “Miss Amarante Flora, if I remember correctly?”

I nodded, realizing that I should have curtsied.

“Will you spare me the next dance?”

I nodded again.

“Splendid! I’ll see you then.” With a smart bow and a polite smile at the Strongfoots, the prince was gone.

Lord Strongfoot grunted. “He looks like a nice chap. See, Tori? It can’t be that hard to find a partner. Amarante didn’t have to say a word.”

The first dance ended quicker than I could’ve imagined. When a five-minute intermission was announced after one of the violins went horribly out of tune, I excused myself from the Strongfoots and fished out Genevieve from the crowd.

“Amarante? What’s the matter?” Genevieve asked as I steered us away from the dance floor to the short hallway outside.

“Prince Ash asked me to dance,” I said. Of all the things I imagined would happen tonight, dancing with a prince was not one of them.

“That’s wonderful! Where are we going?”

“The powder room.”

“You look fine.”

“I’m going to hide.”

“Amarante!”

I pulled Genevieve inside the powder room. Debutantes and their mothers were crowded in front of a mirror that stretched across the wall, chattering and refreshing their rouge.

“It cannot be wise to shirk a dance with a prince,” Genevieve said. We squeezed ourselves through the hoop skirts and perfumed wigs to the last few inches of the mirror.

“You don’t understand! I did something incredibly stupid,” I said. I told her about my blunder with the apple. Genevieve hid her laugh with a cough. “So you see, I’m doomed!”

“On the contrary,” my stepsister said. “Everyone knows the waiter is Prince Ash, so Julianna can’t say anything. Now it just seems like the prince favors you.”

Her comment seemed to garner some attention. I pretended to adjust my hair, ignoring the familiar faces of those who had attended the dinner. Most of them had snickered when Julianna and Narcissa mocked me. I did not want to know what they thought of me now.

“Is it true?” a girl said. “Did Prince Ash

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