Page 113 of The Gilded Survivor

I drew my gaze away from the crowd, and it landed at the bottom of the stairs. Since I had no parents, it was appropriate for my mentor to escort me into the crowd so that I could start dancing and mingling with the other competitors. Silently auctioning for a husband, I supposed.

Antonio was there, waiting for me. The second that my gaze landed on him, that same fluttery, champaign-bubble light feeling took over me. His eyes seemed to have no iris, shining like twin black diamonds, and glistening with the same inner light and heat I felt mirrored in my body.

The way he had growled at me earlier resounded in my mind. A part of me melted slightly, taking in all the sensation of him as I took step after step toward him.

As if I were running toward him.

A warning went off in my eyes as I glanced back up at Isaac.Isaacwanted me, but I didn’t want him. He was promised to someone else. Señor Pérez wanted me to restore our relationship, his mother wanted to use me, and everyone else wanted to enjoy stepping into my limelight. How could I look at anyone else but Antonio?

Antonio, who had stopped demanding anything of me other than my survival. Antonio, who pushed me to be the best version of myself, not someone else. I wished that my heart didn’t so fully govern my body.

Then I reached the last step, and Antonio was at my side in a second, his arm curved and awaiting mine.

Gently, I slid my hand into the crook of his arm.

Antonio smiled tightly, his eyes still burning, but he merely murmured, “Buenas noches.” We walked through the ballroom, toward the circle in the middle where the dancing was happening.

Heads turned as we passed by, some out of admiration, some out of envy. Everyone wanted to get a glimpse of me, of thismysteriousyoung woman who seemed to be so unafraid of opulence.

I could even hear my false name whispered through the crowd like ripples from a drop of water.

“Renata,” some murmured, a name that seemed to evoke reverence in the other competitors and families, an alleged descendant of royalty, while others glared at me like I was evil incarnate. They sized me up like they would a criminal.

Each time I heard my pseudonym, my smile fell a little further. I adjusted and tried to keep my expression stoic and determined while we approached the dancing circle. Attention was suffocating, and being favored for anything felt more like a death sentence than a blessing.

Speaking of death sentences,I thought. “Has Canciller Duarte arrived yet?” I leaned over and asked Antonio.

He shook his head once, and I let out a long breath. He would likely be one of the last to arrive to ensure everyone could pay him his due deference.

A new woman stepped in front of us, and I let out a breath of relief that it wasn’t Martina de León. That relief was short-lived when she dipped into a small curtsy in front of me and then held her hand out.

Antonio stiffened. “Renata,” he said robotically as I returned the curtsy. “This is my mother, Adelaida Morales.”

Adelaida was a plump, middle-aged woman with bright red hair. She was a walking jewel, stitched together with luxurious splendor, and she practically glowed as her son introduced her. Diamonds, which I was growing tired of seeing, glittered on her ears and fingers, and a wide gold bracelet with red crosses hung from her wrist. She smelled of vanilla and cinnamon.

I took her hand and gently kissed the back of her hand in a sign of respect. She wasn’t wearing evening gloves, unlike me, and her nails were long, red and polished.

A vision of shocking youth.

Her red hair was without a single gray strand, and neither a blemish nor mole marred her tan skin. She wore a dress so lavish it could be a wedding gown, and her makeup was an extravagant mask of shimmering neutral colors.

“Mija, Renata, I am so glad to finally meet the young girl my son has been hosting all these months,” she said cheerily. Her voice was the perfect, polished tone that I was still getting accustomed to.

I smiled. “Thank you so much for sending Isolda. She has been so lovely. And thank you for bringing your team to help me get ready.”

Adelaida’s smile didn’t waver as she said, “Oh, yes. I was so moved by the loss of your parents, I couldn’t help but be generous. It is my nature.” She fanned herself with her free hand, as if she were trying to keep tears at bay.

I smiled. “You are generous, indeed.” I didn’t mean it to sound as sarcastic as it did, but her smile finally hardened over.

She produced a fan from the small pocket purse dangling from her waist. It was spread open with an audible smack. “Yes, well, I was distraught to find out that there would be another woman living in Antonio’s home after what happened with Beleza. I needed to make sure that my son behaved himself.” She fanned herself.

Antonio was practically a statue, but he stepped in at the right time. “Thank you, Ma, but Renata needs to dance with the other candidates before the Canciller arrives.”

Adelaida held her ground. “Perfecto. Then you two should dance together first. The youngest mentor in the history of the Blood Tournaments with this season’s favorite—everyone will be captivated.”

With that, she retracted her fan and reached out to push both of us together. Our shoulders bumped as both of us protested.

Then the song ended.

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