Page 53 of Reign
A week later, Daphne stared around the ballroom at Washington Palace, which was as crowded and glittering as she had ever seen it. She should have been thrilled: this was her engagement party, the culmination of everything she’d spent years working for. In her narrow-waisted white dress with blue embroidery, her hair swept into an updo, she looked like she was already a princess.
But the reality wasn’tquiteas flawless as she’d dreamed. She still caught a few of the guests, the high-ranking dukes or foreign ambassadors, staring at her with mingled confusion and distaste. They were clearly wondering what Jefferson was thinking, tying himself to the daughter of a disgraced former baronet when he could have had any woman in the world.She’s pretty, sure,Daphne could almost hear them whispering to one another,but that doesn’t mean he shouldmarryher.
Not to mention, she was still dealing with the ominous messages from Gabriella.
Another had landed in her inbox this afternoon, from the same anonymous address. Daphne kept looking across the ballroom at Ethan, wondering if he’d received one, too; she’d texted him before the party but he hadn’t answered. She wished she could march over and ask him outright. Instead she’d spent the night standing here with Jefferson, greetingthe endless stream of guests who came over to offer their congratulations.
Finally, one of the guests stepped aside, and Daphne glanced across the ballroom to where Ethan was staring at her.
She jerked her head toward the exit. Ethan seemed to sigh in resignation, though Daphne was too far away to be sure. She mumbled her excuses to Jefferson and his mother and headed into the hallway, where Ethan was already waiting.
“What is it?” he asked, but Daphne shook her head. No way would she risk anyone overhearing.
She waited until they were halfway down the hallway before throwing open the door to a linen closet, its shelves stacked with dozens—no, hundreds—of sheets and pillowcases, all stitched with the royal crest. Some part of her registered that it was close quarters, but she was too hyped up on anxiety and adrenaline to worry about that right now. At least they were safe in here.
“Gabriella sent another email this afternoon,” she hissed. “Did you get one, too?”
Ethan hesitated. “I did. But, Daphne, I’m still not sure it’s—”
“I know, I know, you don’t think it’s Gabriella. Justlook.”
Daphne fumbled with her clutch, a tiny thing covered all over in pearl embellishments. She pulled up her email and passed her phone to Ethan.
From: UNKNOWN SENDER
Subject: (NO SUBJECT)
Why are you getting married when you’re in love with the best man? After everything you’ve done, you should know better. Call it off, Daphne.
All evening Daphne had been replaying the words in her mind. This wasn’t written by some stranger, a random paparazzo or internet stalker who’d never met her. This was someone who knew her—who despised her.
Ethan was quiet. “She says you’re in love with me?” His words lifted at the end, turning them into a question.
“I told you, that’s what Nina thinks.” At Ethan’s look, Daphne rolled her eyes. “Of course Nina thinks that! It justifies her own desire to get Jefferson back—because if I’m in love with someone else, then Ideserveto be steamrolled out of the way. How typically Nina, that she would need to be high-minded and idealistic even when destroying someone.”
They were both leaning close, hovering over her phone screen. Daphne felt suddenly aware of every inch between them.
Ethan was the first to take a step back. “I see.”
“Anyway, I have the money.” Daphne pulled out her wallet, which was much fatter than normal. It had been slightly nerve-racking, carrying around this much cash. “Three thousand exactly.”
“Do I want to know where you got this?” Ethan asked, tucking the bills into his pocket.
“Are you suggesting I did something illegal?”
“You’ve broken laws before.”
Daphne decided to ignore that. “I sold some clothes, okay?”
“Ah,” Ethan said meaningfully. “And I take it people pay above market value for clothes that were owned by a princess-to-be?”
“They would, except I never tell them. I don’t exactly want tabloid headlines about how I’m selling off my wardrobe.” It would make her look pitiful, and there was nothing Daphne hated more than other people’s pity.
“Anyway, please just go convert this to cryptocurrency or whatever you need to do. I don’t want to be involved,” Daphne added quickly. The sooner they paid Rei, the sooner Rei could hire extra servers and hack that firewall.
“I’m pretty sure Rei takes cash.” Ethan sounded amused.
Before Daphne could reply, footsteps sounded outside the door to the linen closet. Ethan’s head snapped toward the noise.
