Page 5 of Enamored
Now standing before the king in the hallway, just moments before my coming-of-age ball, old insecurities flooded my soul. Was I suited for this? Especially when I wished for a different life, one of studying and learning and pursuing wisdom.
I squared my shoulders and straightened my chin. I would do my duty. I wouldn’t shirk the responsibilities placed upon me.
The king leaned in and pressed a kiss against my forehead. The queen did likewise, leaving the waft of her lavender oil in her wake. Then the king held out his arm, and the queen linked hers there as they positioned themselves at the top of the wide stone staircase.
A trio of trumpeters announced their presence, and the music below in the grand hall faded to silence. I had watched them descend the staircase from below many times over the years. But tonight I would be the last to arrive to the festivities. The king, queen, and the entire court would watch me glide down in my stunning gown made of swan feathers that had been dyed a vibrant purple.
The skirt was rounded and full, and I was half tempted to test whether the feathers would allow any sort of floating. But I’d studied the science behind flying and knew much more was necessary for soaring than mere feathers.
Even if I couldn’t fly, I felt as graceful as a swan, especially since my long hair was styled loosely, the flowing waves hanging about me in unfettered beauty, setting me apart as the most coveted maiden at the ball.
What would Maxim think when he witnessed my descent?
I gave myself a shake, loathing my weakness in considering him at this moment. Since leaving the tournament field hours ago, I’d vowed to put him from my mind. Even so, images crept in unbidden, as if they had a will of their own. “No, I shall not dwell on him.”
“On whom, Your Highness?” At Rasmus’s voice behind me, I startled. I’d believed I was alone—except for the master of ceremonies standing nearby and the guards on duty at each end of the long passageway.
I was not the blushing type. If I had been, my cheeks would have flamed red. As it was, I drew in a steadying breath before I pivoted.
“Has someone finally caught your attention, Your Highness?” Rasmus’s dark brows rose, his eyes filled with curiosity.
Except for the angular lines and aristocratic features, I had never been able to see Maxim in his father’s face. From what I’d gathered, Maxim’s appearance resembled that of his mother, who had died after giving birth to Maxim. She’d apparently been a beautiful and intelligent woman. It was rumored Rasmus had loved her passionately, and after she died, he’d never been able to love again.
During the years Maxim had lived at the royal residence, I’d never witnessed Rasmus interact with Maxim in any way other than to interrogate him on his studies or criticize him. And after Rasmus had sent Maxim away, he’d seemed almost relieved his son was gone.
I’d concluded Maxim reminded Rasmus too much of the woman he’d lost, and as a result, he never wanted to see his son again. I’d accepted that even if Maxim eventually returned to Vordinberg to attend the Studium Generale for Erudite training, Rasmus would make sure the young man stayed away from the royal court and castle.
Had my theories been wrong? Rasmus had almost seemed relieved that Maxim had ridden up to the tournament field earlier. Had he been awaiting Maxim’s return after all?
“Forgive me, Your Highness.” Rasmus tilted his head in obeisance. “My question was impertinent. You do not need one more person pestering you about whether you’re developing feelings for any of the men.”
I nodded but said nothing, never certain what to say or do around this wiseman. Sometimes his concerns seemed genuine. At other times, I sensed he was wise beyond anyone’s good.
“A weeklong courtship isn’t easy, Your Highness.” His voice softened, and this time when he met my gaze, his eyes held empathy.
“The pressure, indeed, weighs heavy. What if I do not form a heart match by the final feast?”
“In sensing your plight, I have been scouring the laws and texts for another option.”
“And have you found any?”
“I am close.”
Tonight’s ball was the grandest event of the week and would last well into the night. On the morrow, after everyone was sufficiently rested, the noblemen would engage in a hunting expedition to again prove their worth. On the final day, the day that marked my birth, we would have a feast to rival all feasts. Afterward, I would be expected to announce my choice. A betrothal ceremony would quickly follow, and then I would be crowned as the heir apparent.
I considered myself an intelligent woman. After all, I did have more education and learning than most men. But in this matter of selecting my husband, I was learning I was woefully inadequate.
The master of ceremonies beckoned to me from the other side of the staircase, my signal that the king and queen had finished their entrance and that my turn, my moment, had arrived.
An invisible hand clutched my heart as if to root me in place. In fact, it seemed to urge me to flee before I made a terrible mistake.
I briefly closed my eyes and pried the grip loose. I might not find a man I adored or a man who in turn adored me, but I would do my best to pick the nobleman who was worthiest for the task of becoming king.
If only I could know for certain which one that was.
With a final intake of breath, I started forward, making sure each step was measured just as the master of ceremonies had instructed. When I reached the top of the wide staircase, the grand hall spread out before me, crowded with guests clad in their finest attire, all silent and watching me expectantly.
The three trumpets sounded again. Then the herald called out, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Elinor of the house of Oldenberg.”
