Page 59 of A Tale of Treachery

I tensed at the thought of what lay ahead tonight, and Brandon noted it. Whether he thought it was because I was mad at Aiden or upset about his intended was unknown, but he could tell something was bothering me. I waved him off. “You already know how I feel.”

Brandon grabbed my chair and twisted it around to face him. “You didn’t agree to this arrangement, did you?” His voice was deadly serious.

I looked away.

“Tell me,” Brandon begged, and shifted uncomfortably.

“Of course I didn’t agree. You, of all people, should know that. But I didn’t have a choice once the king was brought into the situation.”

He muttered a low curse, his hands clenched. “That is unacceptable. I can’t believe he would make you do this. It’s just so…unlike him.”

“I don’t think he wants this either, Brandon. He told his father that he wanted to start a relationship with me, and well… this was his father’s response. Aiden promised me this would only be temporary, and I believe him.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Dahlia,” Brandon warned, a troubled look crossing his face. “He’s acting like everything is fine between the two of you, telling George and me that you agreed to this. That you’re happy. I didn’t believe it at first, but he was convincing.”

My head shook at Brandon’s statement. “Aiden told me he has a plan to end this.”

Brandon grimaced. “He does have a plan… for his father. For you, I’m not so sure.” Brandon frowned, his eyes unfocused. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to George. Maybe if we put enough pressure on him, he can stop this before it officially starts.”

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to get Brandon or George involved, especially George. He was probably the one who’d come up with the idea in the first place. “The last thing I want to do is drag you into this, but it might help.”

The sooner I could get out of here, the better.

I dusted powder from my skirts and rose, placing my hand in the crook of Brandon’s arm. “But now, it’s time to face the music. Would you accompany me to the ball?”

Brandon squeezed my hand. “It would be my pleasure, but don’t expect me to leave with you.” He winked, clearly having plans to make trouble with a mystery suitor later in the night.

I giggled. “Never.”

We exited the room, and I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the unknown. Tonight, my title would officially be announced, and I would be presented as the prince’s mistress.

Hopefully, there was still time to put an end to this.

CHAPTER22

“Why is everybody staring at me?” I asked Brandon in a hushed tone.

“You know why.”

He was right. I knew why. Even though my title hadn’t been announced, rumors had already started circulating, sending the gossip mill churning with all types of outrageous ideas. At first, people believed I’d gotten in trouble for theft, witchcraft, or disturbing the peace, but when the king’s guard didn’t immediately toss me into the dungeon and throw away the key, the rumors evolved. Some people claimed I was pregnant with the king’s child—disgusting—while others more accurately claimed I was the prince’s mistress.

Nobody in court had missed my sudden move to the palace accompanied by a party of armed guards, nor had they missed the king’s assassin stalking my every step. Ever since that day, the speculation had been endless. I’d overheard whispers whenever I sneaked about the halls, but for the most part, I lay low in hopes of being forgotten.

Judging by the narrowed eyes of the refined ladies of the court, the leering looks of the lords, and murmured whispers of scandal, my attempts to keep a low profile had proven unsuccessful. Not that it would matter after tonight, anyway. Soon, everyone would know exactly what was going on.

“Don’t let it get to you. Just focus on making it through tonight, and we can devise a plan to dissuade the king tomorrow,” Brandon said, his arm still linked to mine as he led me to the head table overlooking the ballroom.

Passing through the growing crowd, I took it all in: the golden chandeliers, the marble floor, the tables fitted with rich gold table linens, strategically placed to surround the dance floor, the plush dining chairs made of red velvet, and the silky gowns, furs, and pressed jackets worn by those in attendance. The hall was lit by an array of candles casting a golden glow along the walls.

I had to admit, it was beautiful. I should count myself fortunate to suddenly be given a title and plucked from obscurity.

But I still didn’t want any part in it.

My steps faltered as we approached the head table, over which Aiden and his father presided. The king sat front and center, with Aiden on his right and the king and queen of New Hazel on his left. Next to Aiden was a gorgeous brunette with wide brown eyes and olive skin, a radiant beauty who exuded royalty. The Princess of New Hazel. She looked young—even younger than me—and couldn’t be more than seventeen.

A pit formed in my stomach at the sight of the open seat next to the princess, the seat reserved for me.

“Please tell me I’m sitting at the table with you and George,” I whispered.

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