Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(24)
I’m grateful that the former mistress of Jér?me had left so much stuff in this room I can use. Otherwise, I don’t know how I can sneak in the ball.
It takes me a long time getting dressed up, as there is no handmaid to help me, and also because I need to find a dress my size and relatively easy to get into. Something without too much lace in the back. I end up wearing a shocking purple-and-pink gown with a row of buttons rather than a maze of laces. Hopefully, with the more liberal attitude towards fashion and sexual behavior here in Moryn, I won’t be subjected to much scrutiny. I also bring a fan. With the double protection from the fan and mask, I’m reasonably sure that no one will recognize me.
When I take a final look in the mirror, I am startled at the woman in my reflection. She looks so sophisticated, so ornamented, and so unlike me. The dress is low-necked for Athelian standards; the swell of my breasts is visible, but I don’t need to look like an Athelian tonight. I could pass off as a high-class courtesan. Or an extra in Moulin Rouge. A burlesque dancer wearing a crinoline.
Will Edward recognize me? But there’s no time to re-do my makeup or change into another gown. There’s the distant sound of music drifting from where the ball must be held.
“Well,” I tell myself. “Here’s to good luck.”
My best hope is to get Edward’s attention. It’s hard enough being a commoner in Moryn, but doubly difficult when I might be recognized as the girl who tried to impersonate Athelia’s princess. Only Edward, who is aware of my true identity, can get me out of here.
* * *
When I left Jér?me’s room, I had to do the same as what he did to me—I lock the servant in the bedroom, with a handkerchief stuffed in her mouth so she couldn’t yell. I feel sorry for doing this to her, especially since Jér?me would be enraged when he comes back, but I have to get out.
“Pardon me, but I’m afraid I have no idea where I am.” I hail a servant. “Would you be so kind to show me the way to the masque?”
My accent, carefully engineered to resemble an Athelian noble lady, poses little problem. Soon I am guided to the ballroom. Thankfully, the servant doesn’t recognize me. Actually, I’d bet neither Mom nor Paige would be able to recognize me either.
But the difficulties have just begun. The ballroom, which is just as huge, if not larger, than the ballroom in the palace of Athelia, is crowded. Augustin is the type to enjoy huge parties, and there must be tons of people in here. Like, numerous foreign nobles have been invited along with the Moryns. How am I to find Edward and speak to him?
At least it isn’t difficult to locate him. As I walk around the room, straining to catch any conversation about him, soon I hear some Moryn ladies chattering and sighing, their hands pressed to their chests. “Look at that prince from Athelia,” one sighs. “He is indeed as handsome as the papers say.”
“And cold as well. I would much rather dance with Jér?me or the Count of Mont Blanc. That prince of Athelia gives me the chills.”
“Yes, but dancing in his arms is reward enough. Oh, I do envy Simone. What a beautiful picture they are!”
I stand on tiptoe. Sure enough, Edward is dancing with Simone in the center of the room. I remember that it is custom that couples do not dance together in a big event. Like, the king had escorted Simone and Augustin the queen when they came for the State Visit. And I have to admit that Edward and Simone look gorgeous together. Even through the mask, I can recognize his dark hair and the noble manner he carries himself, and even the firmness as he presses his lips together. I recognize the way he dances, with the grace of a cat. I wish it was I in my husband’s arms.
Since there are so many people in the ballroom, it is easy to stay anonymous. A few nobles ask me to dance, and although I am in no mood for it, it might offend someone if I keep rejecting them. So I try my best, and to my surprise, I am brought only several yards away from Edward. He is talking to some Moryn noble about urban planning. Jér?me is nearby. My mind racing, I wonder how to attract Edward’s attention. If I speak, he will recognize my voice, but so will Augustin and Jér?me. And Katriona Bradshaw, dancing with some Moryn aristocrat, isn’t that far away either.
My hand goes to the wedding ring Edward gave me, concealed in my dress. As stealthily as I can, I make my way past Edward—the closest I can get to him anyway. I hold up the ring when I think he glances in my direction. He freezes, and I know he at least recognizes the ring, if not me. When the dance is over, I decline another request to dance, feigning weariness, and head to a corner where a buffet table is. If I were to talk to him, we must be far away from Jér?me and Katriona.
Some giggles from the girls signify that he has approached me.
“Lady.” His voice is low. He hasn’t recognized me—I’m hideous in this gaudy dress and mask. “How did you obtain that ring?”
I pitch my voice low. “The prince of Athelia put it on my finger.”
“I beg your pardon?”
This time I look at him, straight into his golden-brown eyes. My heart is pounding so hard, it feels like it’s going to burst through my chest.
“The first time was when we married at St. James Cathedral. The second time was when we came back from our honeymoon in Enrilth.”
He inhales sharply; I resist the urge to throw my arms around him.