Page 108 of Rivals
Beatrice watched, hardly daring to breathe, as hand after hand rose into the air. Something she’d said must have resonated with everyone, because they were all voting in her favor. King Joaquin of Argentina shrugged and lifted his hand lazily; the Queen of England smiled at Beatrice with a mischievous sort of glee, as if she was secretly delighted to see some drama at these conferences for once.
Finally even Empress Mei Ling sighed and lifted her hand, unwilling to be the single vote against Beatrice’s proposal.
Beatrice felt close to tears, gratitude and disbelief warring in her chest. She couldn’t believe that finally, after everything, it was actually happening.
Through the roaring of adrenaline in her ears, she heard Frederick saying, “And so it is decided. Item thirty-one has been adopted by this twenty-fourth convocation of the League of Kings. This session is now officially adjourned.”
When Beatrice made it down the stage, Louise was standing there.
“Your speech was impressive. And inspiring,” she said quietly. “I didn’t have the honor of knowing your father well, but I have a feeling he would have been proud of you.”
Beatrice nodded, because the thing was, she knew that her fatherwasproud of her. She’d felt his presence in the room as clearly as if he’d been standing next to her, a comforting hand on her shoulder, telling her that she was strong enough to do anything.
The crowds had begun jostling toward her, everyone clamoring for her attention. Now that she was no longer a pariah—was, in fact, the unexpected star of this year’s conference—they all wanted to get in her good graces again.
“Thank you for proposing the revote,” she told Louise.
They were drifting apart as more people streamed towardthem, but Louise smiled tentatively and asked, “Maybe we can catch up before I leave tomorrow? We could take Monseigneur Franklin on a morning run?”
Beatrice nodded, smiling. “That sounds nice.”
Perhaps they could be friends again, though not in the same way they had been. No more would Beatrice trail after Louise, letting her pick their outfits and set their agenda.
If they rebuilt their friendship, it would be as equals.
It was getting harder and harder to avoid Jeff at this banquet, the way Nina had promised herself she would.
She’d spent most of the evening on the dance floor with Sam, and therefore with Marshall. It was better that she keep a safe distance from Jeff, so they wouldn’t verge on flirtation again. Especially not while Daphne was here.
Nina worried that something had happened to unsettle Daphne tonight. She’d been acting the way she always did at a party, all smiles and small talk, but Nina knew her well enough now to see the frantic energy behind her facade. She wanted to get Daphne alone and ask about it, but Daphne was constantly surrounded by people—or with Jeff.
Which was as it should be, since Daphne was Jeff’s date. Not her.
The party spilled out the back steps of Bellevue and into the gardens, everyone eagerly awaiting the fireworks that would start at midnight. The band kept playing inside the ballroom, and the doors had been thrown open, so that music drifted down to them like an enchantment. Torches lit the gravel walkways, their golden light reflected on countless jewels and crowns. The breeze from the ocean picked up the skirts of women’s gowns, making them flutter, as gauzy and iridescent as the wings of moths. Most people stayed to thewell-lit main paths, but there were pools of darkness in some of the groves and side gardens, the sorts of places that seemed meant for a forbidden tryst. The scents of flowers and salt and perfume hung heavy in the air.
Nina caught sight of Sam and Marshall across the patio. As she watched, Sam leaned closer to Marshall, letting him loop an arm around her waist. Nina’s heart ached for them both. She knew how much they loved each other, but it was hard for her to see everything Marshall was going through—the microscope he’d been thrust under, the way people ruthlessly and relentlessly went digging into his life. It reminded her of how she’d felt back when she was the one dating Jeff.
“She’s your friend, right?”
A young man had drifted toward her, a brow lifted as he followed Nina’s gaze. He was undeniably handsome, with high cheekbones and a sculpted jaw, his golden-blond hair curling softly around his ears. A ceremonial sword hung at his waist, and he wore a vest trimmed in dark gray fur that matched his wolfish smile.
The prince of somewhere, Nina guessed. Or maybe he was just a guy in a vest and a sword, not actually a prince at all. Daphne would know who he was, Nina thought fondly. She probably could recite his family tree back a dozen generations.
“Yes,” Nina said cautiously, answering his question. “Samantha is my best friend.”
“I thought so. I would have noticed you if you’d been at one of the other League of Kings conferences.” He held out a hand. “Dance with me?”
Nina cast a confused glance around the terrace. “No one else is dancing.”
“All the more reason for us to start the trend.”
There was no harm in dancing with a handsome, charming stranger, was there? Yet some foolish part of Nina wasreluctant to put herself in the spotlight like that, in case Jeff saw and misread the situation.
Not that Jeff had any right to be jealous, since they were just friends.
“I’m a terrible dancer,” Nina said. “I would step all over your toes.”
The stranger grinned, undaunted. “A risk I’m willing to take. I’m extremely brave when it comes to beautiful women.”
