Page 90 of Rise of a Fallen Man

If I caught anyone at the royal court throwing a toxic glance like that at me, I’d watch them carefully from then on. I had to warn Salas to watch his back. He might have enemies among the gladiators that he wasn’t aware of. As much as his rise to fame attracted the admiration of many, I imagined, it would also bring forth envy in some.

After the ceremony, the gladiators went to the rooms allocated for them in the palace to change for dinner. Salas was here not as a slave but as a guest of honor. As such, he got a room to spend the night at the palace.

At dinner, Salas sat at the same table as me, just a few seats down on the same side. He’d changed into a dove-gray shirt and a waistcoat in charcoal jacquard. A silver pin depicting two crossed swords on a round shield nested in his simple cravat.

Compared to the ruffles and jewelry of the men at the royal court, Salas’s outfit was modest, but it was elegant and suited for the occasion. He wore it well, too, with grace and not a hint of awkwardness about his surroundings.

From this position, I couldn’t talk to him. I couldn’t even see him unless I leaned over the table, but I felt his presence with my whole being, like always. The awareness of him was visceral. Hewas in my soul. Every cell in my body came to life when he was near.

Was it love that made me so acutely aware of him?

I never was in love before. I never thought it would feel like this, like a hurricane of thrill and longing, of passion and ache.

How could one hide something like this? I wished to scream to the entire world that he was mine. I wanted to go to him and to hold him like I would never let go.

Instead, I had to remain sitting and chat with the courtiers on topics of no importance like how hot the weather had been lately or how beautiful the gardens looked today.

Once the dinner ended, the party moved into the ballroom. The doors between several grand rooms were open, as well as all doors to the patios outside, expanding the space where thousands of people could dance to the music played by several orchestras positioned in different rooms.

As required, I opened the dancing by taking Leafar into the middle of the main ballroom. We were the first couple on the dance floor under the high cathedral ceiling.

My pale pink evening gown had a far more appropriate skirt for dancing than the white one I’d had on earlier today. The several layers of the light, gossamer material floated around my legs as I led Leafar in the cotillion. He followed me perfectly with the grace of a well-trained dancer.

“We only have one night, Your Highness,” he whispered so that other couples on the dance floor with us wouldn’t hear him. His sweet smile made it look like he was paying me a compliment, disguising the nervous urgency in his voice.

“I’ll wait—” he started, but I shook my head, stopping him.

“Don’t wait for me.”

I was married to one man while being in love with another. Nothing about this situation was fair. I had no one by myselfto blame for marrying without love, then for falling in love so carelessly.

I never acted spontaneously. Every action I’d made, I had thought through. Every step I’d taken, I had valid reasons to take. And yet, there I was in a mess I’d created and pulled two men into it with me. Because I didn’t believe before that love existed. That was my biggest mistake. I didn’t foresee the things that could hardly be predicted.

No one could untangle it all now but me.

One thing was clear, however, I would never visit Leafar’s bedroom again. Making him believe otherwise would be a cruel lie.

“Don’t wait for me, Leafar. Get a good night's sleep tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, after my audience with your aunt.”

At my mentioning the grand duchess, he swallowed hard and bit his lip. The influence of that woman over her nephew was strong. Maybe with her leaving the country, he’d learn to relax and find more joy in life. Right now, the poor thing looked anything but joyful.

“You know what? Why don’t you come to my living room after breakfast tomorrow?” I offered. “You can spend the morning there while I’m meeting with the grand duchess. Bring a friend or two to keep your company. Stay the whole day, if you wish. No one will dare bother you there, not even your aunt.”

“It’s very kind of you, Your Highness.”

“You don’t have to face her at all other than to say goodbye just before she leaves.”

The music ended. The prince bowed to me, allowing me to lead him off the floor and to the sitting area between two sets of open patio doors. My mother and father sat in armchairs, surrounded by a group of courtiers, including the grand duchess and a few of Leafar’s gentlemen-in-waiting.

“Oh, I can’t wait to dance again,” Father stirred in his chair.

“Patience, Your Majesty.” Mother patted his hand on the armrest. “You’ve just started to walk again. One step at a time, please.”

A valet handed Leafar the coat he’d abandoned in his dressing room.

“Put it on,” the grand duchess replied to his questioning glance. “Dress as a decent young man, Leafar. You’re not one of them.” She tipped her chin at the group of gladiators at the other end of the room. All of them were in shirtsleeves like many of the court gentlemen, including my father.

Indignity flared in me, scorching my chest. But Leafar obediently turned around, allowing the valet to put the coat on him.

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