Page 74 of The Prince and the Puck
I had chosen a red sheath dress and a pair of very high silver heels. I wore what little jewelry I owned and put my hair upin the most elaborate updo I could manage—which, admittedly, was not very elaborate at all. I knew there would be women there wearing once-in-a-lifetime gowns, ecstatic to be part of such a momentous occasion.
As I walked myself to the ballroom, uncertainty settled deep in my stomach. There was something like dread inside me at the thought of seeing Declan happy with his family.
Didn’t I want that for him? Had I even thought about him in the years since we had been children together, before I was sent to Virginia?
The truth was, I had. But I had never imagined I would grow as close to him as I had during my assignment. And I was ashamed that I hadn’t been able to keep a professional distance. If I was hurt now, it was my own fault.
I stepped into the crowded ballroom, momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer abundance of the party. The festivities were being held in the ornate palace ballroom, where more food had been gathered in one place than I had ever seen before. A five-tier cake—one that any bride would envy—stood proudly in the center of the room, a golden crown perched atop its iced layers. Buffet tables lined every wall, overflowing with decadent dishes, while the dance floor stretched wide beneath the glittering chandeliers.
At the very front of the room stood the royal table. A throne had been placed for King Lambert, and Celeste and his family flanked him on either side—his parents looking proud, and Declan looking… gleeful.
The chandeliers bathed the room in warm golden light, illuminating glittering gowns, sleek tuxedos, and polished royal insignias. The scent of roasted meats, rich desserts, and champagne filled the air. Laughter rang out over the steady hum of conversation, and on the dance floor, couples swayed to the soft strains of the orchestra.
I had barely had a chance to take it all in when I felt a strong hand on my elbow. I turned and looked up to see Declan at my side, smiling down at me.
“There you are,” he said.
“Here I am,” I agreed, feeling ridiculously stupid, both at having nothing better to say, and for believing for so long that there was a path for us together.
Declan looked incredible in his ceremonial tux, the tailored fabric hugging his frame in a way that made my breath catch. He had always looked good in his hockey gear, but this was different. Regal. He belonged here, among the gold and grandeur.
I had never felt less like I belonged.
“Do you have a moment?” His expression was uncertain.
I looked into those deep blue eyes, at the full lips smiling through his beard, at the face I had come to love so much it hurt. “Of course I do.”
Declan slid his hand down to mine, intertwining his fingers with my own.
“Champagne?” he asked, guiding me toward a bar.
I nodded, accepting the flute and sipping the bracing bubbles. I needed to steel myself. Being with Declan was always so overwhelming.
Declan gave my arm gentle tug, leading me through the room until we found a quiet table in the corner, somewhat shielded from the celebrations by one of the bars stationed along the walls.
The noise of the ballroom faded slightly, but my heart pounded in my chest. I looked deep into Declan’s eyes and braced myself for whatever was to come.
CHAPTER 39
DECK
STEALING THUNDER.
I had meantto speak with Lizzy long before the coronation actually occurred. I needed to tell her everything—everything I felt, everything I wanted, everything I hoped might possibly come true between us. And yet, from the look on her face, I could see I had done a poor job of setting her expectations.
“There’s so much I need to talk to you about,” I told her.
“Declan, I understand,” she said. And I saw it then. She thought I was ending this.
I shook my head. “No, Lizzy, I don’t think you do.”
“Tell me. Please, Declan. I’ve spent these last weeks so confused. I tried to tell you how I feel, but there’s just never been the time. And then I thought, with your father, and with you being crowned…” Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and my heart clenched inside my chest. I had caused her so much pain.
“But I wasn’t crowned,” I reminded her. “I’m not king. Nothing is different than it was before. And Dad—he’s okay.”
“He doesn’t have lymphoma?”
“He does, but not the kind they suspected. He has a very slow-growing kind, and with management and treatment, his doctor told him something else would probably kill him first. That’s what Lambert came to tell me the other day on the beach.”I delivered this news almost gleefully, the atmosphere of the day infusing my words.
