While Waiting to Wake

“It is only begun, your highness.”

“Indeed. Your garb tonight will have the ladies swooning in romantic fantasies of your exploits.”

Em frowned.

Did the prince just intentionally draw attention to Flint’s attire as an insult? No, surely not. It would make more sense if it were closer to the end of the season, when everyone had seen Flint wear the same thing over and over.

Unless… he wanted everyone to notice right away what Flint was wearing every time?

No. Surely not.

But that’s what was going to happen, she realized with dismay.

The Prince continued to chat some more nonsense, not at all bothered by Flint’s grunts and clipped replies.

Then he slapped Flint’s shoulder again and waved at the space behind the small thrones. Where a few other men had already gathered and were whispering together.

“You may join my entourage now. Enjoy the rest of the party!”

Reluctantly, Em let go of Flint’s hand and let Eileen usher her away from the line. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Flint stiffly join the other men behind the thrones.

It took another hour and a half for every noble family to greet the Crown Prince and Princess. But, finally, that part of the evening was over and everyone returned to chatting in small groups until supper was announced a half hour later.

By then, Em was exhausted.

It wasn’t even seven yet, and she wanted to find a place to hide.

Eileen pulled her from group to group. Introducing Em and then promptly forgot she was there as she got to know the people in the groups.

After the third time of this happening, it dawned on Em what Eileen was doing. And it wouldn’t have occurred to her if she didn’t notice that everyone was addressing each other at least once by title.

Eileen Raynish was a baroness. Not a Marchioness. They must’ve announced it both at the door and when they greeted the royal couple. How had Em missed it?

I’m her passport, Em thought. Half amused, half exasperated.

Eileen was chatting with people she ordinarily would never have been able to talk to on her own. Even though her wealth and manners made her stand out as one of the most fashionable women in the room.

Em glared at Eileen’s ear.

All this talk about the honor of their families, and she treated Flint like he was a pesky nephew. Someone she could get away with giving only passing politeness to, rather than a superior.

I’ll ask Loki to do something to her, she thought grimly. Maybe hide her left shoes. Or tie her hair to the bedpost. No, the servants would be the ones who’d get in trouble…

She entertained herself with visions and ideas of what pranks they could pull. Looking for the perfect one that wouldn’t get anyone in trouble.

They were called to the banquet soon after.

Where Flint had to sit at the head table with the others.

Em watched him glumly. Wishing she could sneak up there and hide under the tablecloth. Just so she didn’t have to sit with Eileen, who’d secured them a spot close to the front on Em’s social status.

Em would’ve preferred to sit with the barons.

When she was full, she leaned over.

“Lady Eileen,” she whispered.

“Yes, dear?”

Em cringed at the false sweetness.

“I need to use the powder room.”

Eileen’s face momentarily blanked. Then she laughed awkwardly and waved over a harried looking maid.

Gratefully, Em escaped the bustle of the too full banquet room.

There were too many nobles. And she was fairly certain, from comments her mother used to make before she died, that the attendees of the social season weren’t usually this many.

It’s because of the stupid wedding.

Even a Marquis could get out of a normal social season if his work was pressing enough. However, a royal wedding was important enough that everyone had to attend at least one of the major events.

And the more they attended, the higher their importance.

After tonight, most of the lower barons and viscounts would be returning to their homes. Relieved that they were not required to attend the actual wedding, which would be mostly by special invitation, anyway.

Or annoyed not to attend.

Depending on their level of ambition.

“I can find my way back,” Em assured the maid.

The maid hesitated. Not wanting to leave one of the youngest guests unattended. But the night wasn't even half over and she had a thousand other tasks to perform…

“If you get lost, miss, just ask any of the servants. They'll direct you back.”

“I will. And thank you.”

The maid looked startled as she bowed.

It was only after Em firmly closed the door that it occurred to her most nobles probably didn't thank these maids for anything.

Oh, well.

She wasn't most nobles.

She took her time. Taking care of her business quickly then loitering as long as she dared. When she finally left the bathroom, she found that most people had migrated back to the ballroom.

From the corridor doorway, she silently watched as even more people filtered that direction.

She really didn't want to join them.

And not seeing either Eileen or Flint, she quietly backed up.

Most of one wall of the corridor bordered the banquet hall and ballroom. But the other side was a series of rooms. Many were powder rooms, but there were also sitting rooms.

She could hear people in most of these rooms as she passed them.

Most doors had been left open. But there were a few closed doors. Curiously, she put her ear to one of them. After a couple of seconds, she jerked her head back. Wide-eyed.

There was definitely sounds in there but… Good gracious!

She gaped at the door. Momentarily stunned by what she was almost certain she heard. Then she backed away slowly. As though the door might come off it’s hinges and attack her.

She didn’t want to know if the other closed doors hid business or… pleasure.

Then she spotted the outside door.

The ballroom had half a dozen doors leading onto the gardens. This corridor had only one, and next to it was a small set of doors leading into the ballroom.

For a second, she stood in the doorway to the ballroom. Watching the dancers and the talkers. Eventually, she’ll go in and find Flint for her dance. But she didn’t see him anywhere.

Where did he go?

Frowning, she tapped her foot and crossed her arms. Thinking.

This entrance to the garden was a force that seemed to beckon her. Promising her a reprieve from all the people she didn’t want to talk to. And all the people Lady Eileen wanted to ‘introduce her’ to.

She inched her way closer to the garden door. Then paused.

For a moment, she thought she saw a familiar face.

But the woman danced past so fast, Em barely got a glimpse.

Something about that face made Em frown and lean her body into the room. Trying to spot her again and get a better look.

Though Em watched, she never saw her again.

More importantly, she finally spotted Eileen. And for now, decided it was more prudent to escape outside. If she wanted a longer break.

It was dark out. And the breeze hinted that the mild autumn and winter months were coming.

Em left the small patio and aimlessly wandered the garden paths. Steering clear of places where she was pretty sure couples were, uh, coupling. Or at least passionately kissing if they weren't that brazen.

Funny how it wasn't so disturbing when she used to read about such things.

She laughed at herself and ducked behind a bush to avoid someone on the path.

The man was alone. And seemed… not nervous, but not at ease, either.

Em meant to just let him pass. But she noticed someone else coming up the bend in the path and crouched further to avoid the second person's notice.

A rendezvous.

She hoped they took their business further into the gardens. The idea she might get stuck there made her sick.

If it came to that, she'd rather jump up and embarrass them by leaving in a hurry than see anything.

“Madeline?”

Em froze.

“Shh, you shouldn't speak to me so informally. What if someone hears?”

“Isn't that why we're meeting here? So no one hears?”

“We're meeting here because no one will believe we're meeting for romance,” was the dry reply. “Come. There's a gazebo just over there.”

Em hesitated.

A private meeting between the engaged future Crown Princess and… who? Who was someone even Thiago wouldn't believe was a romantic rival?

Curious, Em was following the couple before she realized what she was doing.

At the gazebo, the pair sat at a table and began whispering together.

“... Keeping an eye… finally cooperating…”

“How is…?”

“... Smoothly…”

Em frowned and cautiously crawled closer. If she'd been any bigger, the ground cover wouldn't have hid her. As it was, she was struggling to move in her dress without making any sounds. Several times the bows snagged on things, but they came free with easy tugs so she thought little of it.

“And the mines?”

“The new deposits were just as rich as predicted. Duke Caviet is turning a blind eye, so that, too, is running smoothly.”

“Good.”

A torch suddenly lit and Em froze.

Neither Madeline nor the man was looking her way, so she abandoned her crouch and dropped onto her stomach. Madeline was looking toward the brightly lit windows of the ballroom while her companion watched her.

“Your highness?”

“Have you ever wanted to be someone else, Gerald?”

Pause.

“Don't answer that.“ Madeline turned away from the ballroom and Em could see her face. It was pale and tired. “Someone has seen us by now and will tell the prince. You can go now.”

The man hesitated. His face etched with worry. With a sigh, he nodded.

“Yes.”

Gerald grasped her hand, kissed it, then walked away.

As soon as he was out of sight, Madeline abruptly staggered. Alarmed, Em halfway sat up. Her instinct to run over and… what? Get smoothed under the weight of a grown woman?

She was glad she was just a smidge slower, because someone else had also noticed Madeline’s condition.

A shadow darted from the taller foliage.

He caught Madeline before she lost her grip on the gazebo pole. But even the big man wasn't prepared to take her weight and was off balance with his grip. He landed hard on one knee while Madeline collapsed completely.

Meanwhile, Em gaped.

She recognized him.

What was he doing here?!

“What are you doing here?”

Madeline also gaped in bewilderment at her rescuer. And was only two seconds slow before realizing the danger. With a weak wave of her hand, she snuffed out the torchlight.

“I… was looking for Emmaline,” was the awkward reply in the darkness.

“Emmaline?”

“She escaped my aunt and someone saw her come to the garden.”

“But… Thiago will notice…”

“Yes, I can't be gone long. Have you seen her?”

Em found the conversation ridiculous. Considering Madeline had almost fainted and Flint was still holding her.

Neither adult seemed to notice the incriminating position.

Madeline smiled wanly. Relaxing more into Flint’s grip.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Ah. I should probably keep looking. Do you need me to call a servant? No, wait. You’ll just say no. I’ll send you one, anyway.”

Madeline laughed. And neither moved as her laugh abruptly choked into a sob. She leaned her forehead into Flint’s shoulder.

“This isn’t fair.”

Em was almost not close enough to hear the choked whisper. Flint didn’t answer.

“Commander?”

“Yes?”

“If I weren’t Madeline Dulce, fiancee of the honorable Crown Prince… if I weren’t someone who could get you killed just by being alone with me… would you kiss me?”