Page 20 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“I’d like that.”

“Now that we have that sorted, are you ready for your ball, Lady Clarissa?” The way he says this makes it sound like the ball is in my honour and it makes me smile again as I nod. Nodding in return, he straightens out his uniform and leads me to the entrance. There’s a small group of people outside the door, and as we reach them, I see they are waiting to be admitted into the ballroom, each couple being gestured forward before they are formally announced and enter the grand hall.

One of the stewards sees us and suddenly pales, hurrying forward and bowing low. “My apologies, I didn’t see you there. Please, come forward,” he insists, his nerves obvious from his shaky words. “Excuse me, please move,” he orders the waiting lords and ladies as he pushes through them. I give Wilson aconfused look, but he just shrugs and leads me forward despite the grumbles and protests of those waiting.

“Mage Wilson, escorting Lady Clarissa of Lake Haven.” The booming voice of the steward is almost lost to the music and loud voices, but those near the door hear and I see the whispers start. Before I know it, it feels like the whole hall is watching us as Wilson walks me in.

“Are all your entrances like this?” I whisper to Wilson, seeing his tight smile as he guides me over to one of the food laden tables. He looks just as uncomfortable as I am. I can feel eyes on my back and it’s making my scars burn, like they can strip away my clothing and see me for what I am. I don’t know how Wilson and Grayson do this. If people whisper everywhere they go, under constant scrutiny… it’d be maddening.

“They’re not looking at me,” he whispers back, handing me a glass of sparkling liquid from a passing waiter before grabbing his own. It takes me a moment before I understand.

“Why are they looking at me like that?” I hiss, gazing around and seeing that everyone is still watching us.

“Because you’re a beautiful woman who received a Goddess mark. They’re jealous,” he answers with a smile. I know he’s right, at least about the mark, but I can tell there’s more he’s not telling me. That also doesn’t explain why the steward looked so scared when he saw us. “They’ll get bored soon enough, just ignore them.”

Deciding to take his advice I nod and straighten my back, turning to face out into the ballroom, and I can’t help but admire the dancers and all their beautiful outfits. The place is glittering with jewels, with some of the ladies wearing so much jewellery that I’m surprised they can stand up straight. Wilson keeps me company, pointing out certain people of importance, telling me their ranks and the rumours surrounding them. For a magician,he knows a lot about the gossip of the aristocrats, then I realise he probably grew up with these people before he was chosen.

Raising the glass to my lips, I sip the sparkling liquid, pulling a face at the tart flavour and slight burn as it travels down my throat. Frowning at the glass, I raise it to my face, eyeing the liquid suspiciously.

“You’re acting like you’ve never had sparkling wine before,” Wilson comments with a chuckle, taking a large gulp of his own drink. If Wilson’s drinking it, then it must be safe to consume.

“I haven’t,” I confirm, eyeing the glass again as I sniff the contents. It smells both sharp and sweet at the same time, the whole thing making gentle popping sounds as it fizzes. “What is it? It burns.”

“It’s alcohol, made from grapes.” I give him a look. I’ve tasted the fruit before when I worked in a lord’s grape field, and this tastes nothing like them. They are crisp and sweet, this “wine” is bitter and tart. He laughs at my expression, as if he truly hadn’t believed me when I said I’d never had wine. “What kind of place did you come from where they didn’t have wine?” he exclaims like this is the most tragic thing he’s ever heard of, but I can only give him an awkward shrug, his question hitting a little too close to home. I don’t know how to act like a lady, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to expose myself. “Have a few more sips, you’ll get used to the taste, it’ll help you relax too.”

“Is it that obvious how uncomfortable I am?” I question with a bitter laugh before taking another sip of the wine, trying to school my expression as I scan the crowd around us.

“No, I’m just good at reading people,” he responds with a shrug, before gesturing towards a group of ladies who are gathered at the other end of the hall, their heads close together as they talk.

A loud trumpet fanfare fills the room as the music suddenly cuts out, the lords and ladies looking around with wide eyes,their whispers the only sound in the sudden quiet. Wilson stiffens next to me, and when I glance over his face is tight, an expression of dislike so unlike the happy magician that I’ve seen so far that I do a double take. Seeing my shock, he schools his expression into a carefully blank mask. I wonder who he learned that one from...

“I didn’t think they would come.” Opening my mouth to ask who he’s talking about, I’m stopped by the steward as he makes his announcement.

“Presenting, His Royal Highness Michael Arhaven, and His Royal Highness Jacob Arhaven.”

As if by some unspoken signal, everyone drops into a low bow, all except for me. My eyes are locked onto the person who is staring straight at me, his eyes boring into mine as if they know all my secrets. That person is Jacob, the youngest prince of Arhaven.

“You have to bow,” Wilson hisses beside me. Ripping my eyes from the prince, I realise that no one has risen from their bows or curtsies yet, waiting for some sort of signal. Everyone in the room seems to be waiting with bated breath and a blush rushes to my cheeks as I drop to the floor in my haste to curtsy, my head dipped low. Sound returns to the room again and a pair of legs appear in front of me.

“We need to work on your curtsies.” The voice is amused, and as I glance up, I’m relieved that it’s Wilson and not someone else, like a crowned prince for example. He offers me his hand, which I accept gratefully, and he helps me up to my feet. Seeing my glass now lying on the floor, the contents leaking across the marble, I let out a sigh. I brush down my skirts to check for stains, but I’m relieved to see that they weren’t marked from my little trip to the floor. Wilson, seeing what’s happened, flags down one of the servants and passes me another glass with a smile.

Accepting it with a small smile of my own, I place my hand on his arm. “Sorry.”

“What for?” His voice sounds genuinely confused, his expression open as if I’ve surprised him with my apology. Laughing bitterly, I gesture around me, not just at the mess a servant is cleaning up, but my mannerisms and the fact I could have been dragged away for treason for not curtsying to the royals.

“I don’t make a very good lady.” As soon as I’ve said the words I regret them, a real lady wouldn’t say something like that. I make it sound like I’m a childplayingat being a lady rather than Lady Clarissa of Lake Haven. Thankfully, Wilson doesn’t seem to look too deeply into my words and takes my hand.

“I think you make the perfect lady.” Turning my head to look at him, I can’t help but laugh at his smile and roll my eyes. What a sweet talker.

We go back to small talk as we watch the antics of the nobility around us, although I can’t help but keep shooting looks over at the thrones at the front of the hall. Two of the five are taken as the two youngest princes watch us mingle, neither of which have left the dais. However, Michael has his fair share of ladies keeping him company, many of whom are practically sitting in his lap, their fake laughter heard from the other side of the hall. I can feel his eyes on me though, but it’s not him who’s making my skin feel like it’s alive.

Jacob, the youngest prince, has been staring at me since he entered the room, as he is now, only looking away for a second when a server brings him a new glass of wine. I’ve been trying to avoid looking over there, not wanting to meet his gaze, but I use this reprieve to examine him. I wasn’t this drawn to him before the ceremony, it’s only since my blessing that I can’t seem to look away. He’s handsome in a geeky kind of way and I can tell from the way he’s sitting awkwardly in his chair that he’snot comfortable here, unlike his brother who’s revelling in the attention. Receiving his glass, he scans the crowd again before his gaze lands on me, his eyes locking onto mine, and try as I might, I can’t pull my gaze away.

“Clarissa, come and see this important thing over here,” Wilson declares, effectively breaking my stare with the prince as he steps in front of me. Smiling with relief, I take his offered hand as he links his arm with mine.

“Thank you,” I whisper, as we weave through the crowd, but I swear I can still feel the prince’s eyes on my back. “Where are we going?” I ask, as I realise he’s just taking me to the windows on the other side of the hall. There’s nothing here. Each large, arched window has a little alcove, a few of which are occupied by couples who wanted to get a little alone time. People watch us as we cross the hall, but no one makes a move to talk to us, and I realise that Grayson picked well when he chose a magician to escort me. The eager looks turn wary when they see the blue uniform.

“You looked like you needed rescuing,” he explains with a chuckle, and I realise he’s right, heisgood at reading people. I expect him to make a comment about the prince and my apparent inability to stop staring at him, but he doesn’t say anything. Reaching an alcove, I lean against the stone arch, relieving some of the pressure on my feet. I’m used to being on my feet all day, my soles thick from walking barefoot, but shoes are still new to me and they are rubbing in places I’m not used to. Thanks to my skirts no one can see me take them off. I stand on the cold stone floor with a quiet sigh of relief and from Wilson’s smile, I’m sure he’s guessed what I’m doing.

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