Page 88 of Raul
Not to mention that while everyone else was chatting away with great vivacity, she knew no one and stood by one of the giant flower arrangements, sipping her champagne and wondering why she had come. This was Raul’s world, not hers, and she didn’t belong here any more than she had belonged in his arms.
She was about to dump her half-empty glass and leave the party when Bertrand broke through the crowd. She felt a little better when he whistled as he walked up to her. “Wow! You clean up well!” he said, touching his champagne flute to hers.
“You don’t look too shabby yourself,” she said, feeling like he had thrown her a lifeline.
“Come on over and hang out with the rest of us highfliers,” he said, nodding toward the other side of the room. “We’ve got a good view of the doors the royals will be coming through.”
When they walked up to the knot of her fellow pilots and their partners, Bertrand’s wife, Solange, said, “Love your dress. You look amazing.” Then she swept out her arm. “Can you believe this room?!”
“You look fantastic too,” Erica said before she turned to survey the gleaming inlaid wood of the floor, the vast chandeliers dripping with crystals, the elaborate flower arrangements in urns taller than she was, and the huge gilt-framed mirrors that doubled the size of the colorful crowd. Serving tables covered in Calevan teal-green linen held elegantly arrayed hors d’oeuvres. An army of servers in their matching green livery circulated through the guests with silver trays of drinks and more food. Small tables with gilt chairs were scattered around the perimeter of the room for those who grew tired of standing.
“The Dragóns know how to throw a party,” Erica said, taking a sip of her champagne. The fizzing liquid on her tongue reminded her of drinking naked in Raul’s bed, and she choked as the memory sent a jolt of loss through her.
Bertrand thumped her on the back.
“I’m okay,” Erica croaked. “Just swallowed wrong.”
They chatted about the various wedding guests they had ferried in until a trumpet fanfare halted all conversation.
Everyone in the room pivoted toward the double doors at one end of the room.
“Su Majestad el ReyLuis the Fourth of Caleva andSu Majestad la ReinaEve of Caleva,” shouted a uniformed man in a deep voice.
The king and queen stepped through the doors, the king in a tuxedo and the queen in a Calevan teal satin gown with asparkling emerald-and-diamond tiara in her upswept red hair. A wave of bows and curtsies passed through the room.
“Su Alteza Real el PrincipeRaul of Caleva andSu Alteza Real la PrincessaGrace,” the herald announced.
As Raul smiled and strode in beside his half sister, Erica let her gaze linger on the well-tamed waves of his sun-streaked hair that shone in the chandeliers’ light and contrasted with the stark black-and-white of his tux. The black fabric with its satin stripe made his legs look even longer than usual, and his highly shined shoes caught flickers of light. There was not even the hint of a limp in his gait.
A shudder of longing shook her as she curtsied with the other guests.
“Su Excelentísimo el Duque deBencalor andSu Excelentísimala Duquesa deBencalor,” the herald at the door shouted.
Another wave of bows and curtsies and enthusiastic applause flowed through the guests and servers.
The newlyweds strode through the door, and Erica grinned. Gabriel had released his long dark hair from the ribbon that had held it back during the marriage ceremony. Even in his formal tuxedo, he managed to look like a musician. Quinn wore a beautiful white gown of tulle with pale pink lilies appliqued on its bodice and full skirt, and a glittering tiara in her brown hair. What made Erica smile was that Quinn had on her black-rimmed glasses.
As the royals stood side by side in front of the crowd, the string ensemble began to play the Calevan national anthem. Many of the assembled guests sang along. When it was over, King Luis lifted the champagne flute that had been handed to him by a courtier.
“Thank you all for joining us to celebrate the formal declaration of the love between Gabriel and Quinn, now theDuke and Duchess of Bencalor. I have personally watched this love grow brighter and stronger with each passing day and know that it will continue to do so far into the future. While I have always considered Gabriel my second son, I have come to care for Quinn as my second daughter. It was my honor to walk her down the aisle today. Let us wish them a long and joyous life together.Qué vivan los novios!”
The crowd responded with a loud,“Qué vivan!”and glasses flashed as they were tilted to people’s lips.
The bride’s and groom’s faces were incandescent with joy. When Gabriel leaned down to kiss Quinn, the whole room sighed.
Then the royals split up and walked into the mass of guests.
Erica followed Raul’s progress as he moved from one cluster of people to the next with practiced smoothness, chatting and flashing his brilliant smile, his head often tilted down at an attentive angle as he spoke with those shorter than he was.
She snorted as she noticed all the younger women—and some older ones too—maneuvering so that they would be in Raul’s path of progress. He seemed to know all of them, greeting them with polished charm, while they fluttered around him like butterflies around an especially desirable flower.
“Hey, Erica, how about a dance?” Gerardo, a fellow pilot, asked, startling her out of her morbid fascination.
“Oh, sure,” she said, just noticing that the string ensemble had fallen silent, and a band had started playing a famous Calevan waltz.
As her partner led her onto the dance floor, she searched for Raul’s sun-streaked hair, but there were too many guests. Banishing the pang of disappointment, she threw herself into twirling around the dance floor. When they spun into one corner, she glanced away from Gerardo to see Raul lookingdirectly at her. His professional prince smile was gone, and the set of his face was like stone.
And then Gerardo whirled her away, and she lost sight of the prince. She wanted to yank herself out of her partner’s arms and race back to Raul, but of course, she couldn’t make a spectacle of herself.
