Page 8 of Charmless
My face flamed bright red as my neighbors and even the royal guard whistled and applauded. Em, who had been watching from our threshold, bounced up and down with happiness and delight. Florian strutted out the gate, flinging his hands in the air as though he was some sort of conquering hero.
To my utter dismay, someone in the crowd yelled out, “Three cheers for Ella Upton, our future princess!”
The shout was swiftly taken up by the rest of the group, including my stepmother. “Princess Ella! Huzzah, huzzah, huzzah!”
“No! No! No!” I cried, but no one could hear me. I bit my lip in frustration, wondering how this situation could possibly get any worse. Then toward the back of the crowd, I spotted a familiar upright figure mounted atop a roan-colored horse.
“Horatio.” His name escaped me in a choked whisper. I started to run forward, determined to fight my way to his side. But I never even got as far as the gate before I froze, remembering Florian’s threat.
I would hate to have to fight for you, Ella, but I would. I would duel any man in the kingdom to win you.
I tried to meet Horatio’s gaze over the heads of the cheering crowd, desperately seeking to convey to him that none of this was as it appeared. But Horatio had already brought his mount around, heading back toward Midtown. All I could do was watch helplessly as he rode away, the expression I had glimpsed on his face enough to break my heart.
The man who had declared that I filled his life with color looked as though his entire world had been reduced to ash.
Two
The crowd of curious neighbors lingered after Florian had departed. When some of them started through the gate to congratulate me, I bolted for the house, nearly knocking Em over in the process. I dragged my stepmother inside with me. Slamming our front door closed, I leaned up against it. Em regarded me with confusion.
“Ella, what are you doing? It is only natural that our friends would wish to rejoice with you.”
“What friends? We barely know those people. They are nodding acquaintances at best.”
“That is all about to change when you become their princess.”
“Em, I am not—” I tried to protest, but Imelda tugged me away from the door, nudging me in the direction of the stairs.
“You need to run up to your bedchamber and make yourself look more presentable while I invite everyone into the parlor and put the kettle on for tea.”
“Tea! We have not even had breakfast yet and you cannot be serving refreshments to half the neighborhood. I have carefully allotted our supplies to last until the end of the month.”
“Oh, pooh, you silly child. When you marry the prince, do you not realize what that will mean? We will never have to worryabout such horrid things as budgets or taxes and running out of tea or having fried eels for supper ever again.”
“Em…”
“We will live in grand apartments in the royal palace, and we will have ever so many servants. I am sure you have worked very hard looking after us, my darling girl, but you need never lift another finger.”
“Em!” I nearly had to shout to stem her enthusiastic gush. Moderating my voice, I said, “I already told you. I will never marry Prince Florian.”
“Surely you cannot still mean that. Not after the way you kissed him. And in front of the entire neighborhood.”
“I did not kiss him. He kissed me. That is a very different thing.”
“But what a kiss it was!” Em sighed. “So passionate! Enough to make any girl swoon.” She frowned. “I am glad you did not because there is that dreadful law about fainting in the presence of royalty. But surely it will not apply to you once you are a princess.”
“It doesn’t matter. The only way I will ever pass out in Florian’s presence is if he suffocates me with his mouth.”
My stepmother had been raised with all these romantic notions about charming princes who swept maidens off their feet with the tenderness of a kiss. If I was ever going to disillusion her about Florian, I was going to have to be brutally frank.
“I don’t want to shock you, Em, but apparently Prince Florian has spent much time on this island called Lothmara.” I hesitated.
Mal had told me all about this place, but I didn’t want Em to know that. She already deplored my friendship with Mal and her low opinion of his character would not be improved if sherealized he had been discussing such a salacious subject with me.
I continued, “Someone informed me that this island is populated by these seductive women who school men in the arts of passion. Most particularly a kind of kissing that involves much use of… well, tongues.”
I waited for Em’s gasp of horror, but she nodded, “The siren’s kiss.”
“You know about that?”
