Serpent & Dove (Serpent & Dove, #1)(72)

Ansel craned his neck to find the herald. “There he is.” He pointed to a short, squat man with a wig and scroll who stood beside a large archway. Music and laughter poured from the room beyond. Another servant appeared to take our cloaks. Though I held on to mine for a second too long, the servant succeeded in tugging it from my hands. Feeling naked, I watched it disappear with a sense of helplessness.

When Ansel pulled me toward the herald, however, I dug in my heels. “I’m not being announced.”

“But the footman said—”

I jerked out of his grasp. “I don’t care what the footman said!”

“Lou, the king insisted—”

“Darlings.” Coco smiled wide, looping her arms through ours. “Let’s not make a scene, hmm?”

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to smile and nod at the eavesdropping aristocrats. “I’ll be entering from over there,” I informed Ansel through clenched teeth, gesturing across the antechamber to where servants were coming and going from a smaller, secondary set of doors.

“Lou,” he began, but I was already halfway to the doors. Coco hurried to follow, leaving Ansel behind.

The ballroom was much larger and grander than the antechamber. Iron chandeliers hung from the beamed ceiling, and the wooden floor gleamed in the candlelight. Musicians played a festive tune in the corner next to an enormous evergreen. Some guests already danced, though most preferred to stroll around the perimeter of the room, drinking champagne and wheedling the royal family. Judging from the loud, slurred voices of the aristocrats nearest me, they’d been hitting the bubbly for hours.

“Yes, Ye Olde Sisters, that’s what I heard—”

“They’ve traveled all the way from Amandine to perform! My cousin says they’re quite brilliant.”

“Sunday, you said?”

“After Mass. Such a fitting way to end the weekend. The Archbishop deserves the honor—”

Scoffing, I marched past them into the room. Any person who chose to string together the words the Archbishop deserves the honor wasn’t worth my attention. I scanned the sea of blue coats and sparkling gowns for Reid, spotting his coppery hair at the far end of the ballroom. A group of admirers surrounded him, though the young woman clinging to his arm drew my particular attention. My heart plummeted.

Anxiously awaiting, my ass.

Even from a distance, I could tell the woman was beautiful: delicate and feminine; her porcelain skin and raven hair shone in the candlelight. She shook with genuine laughter at something Reid had just said. Uneasiness flitted through me.

This could only be one person.

One boring, docile, wretchedly inconvenient pipe dream.

Coco followed my gaze, wrinkling her nose in distaste when she too spotted Reid and the raven-haired beauty. “Please tell me that’s not who I think it is.”

“I’ll come find you later.” My eyes never left Reid’s face. Coco knew better than to follow this time.

I’d just descended into the ballroom when another man stepped in my path. Though I’d never encountered him this close, I recognized his tawny complexion and hooded eyes at once. Black hair styled to perfection, he wore more diamonds on his crown than were in Tremblay’s entire vault.

Beauregard Lyon.

Damn it. I didn’t have time for this shit. Even now, that stupid cow was probably sinking her claws deeper into my husband—reminding him of her beautiful lips, and smile, and eyes, and laugh—

“That is quite the dress.” His gaze swept up my body lazily, and he smirked, arching a brow.

“Your Highness.” I dropped into a curtsy, clamping down on a slew of more appropriate honorifics. He eyed my breasts appreciatively as I leaned down, and I straightened at once. Bloody pervert.

“Your name.” It wasn’t a question.

“Madame Diggory, Your Highness.”

His grin widened in delight. “Madame Diggory? As in—Madame Reid Diggory?”

“The very same.”

He actually threw his head back and laughed. The aristocrats nearest us paused, eyeing me with renewed interest. “Oh, I’ve heard all about you.” His golden eyes sparkled with glee. “Tell me, how exactly did you trick our dear captain into marrying you? I’ve heard the rumors, of course, but everyone has their own theories.”

I would’ve gladly broken a finger to break one of his other appendages.

“No tricks, Your Highness,” I said sweetly. “We’re in love.”

His grin faded, and his lip curled slightly. “How wretched.”

At that moment, the crowd shifted, revealing Reid and his many admirers. The raven-haired woman reached up to brush something from Reid’s hair. My blood boiled.

The prince’s brows rose as he followed my gaze. “Love, huh?” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Should we make him jealous?”

“No, thank you,” I snapped. “Your Highness.”

“Call me Beau.” His grin turned wicked as he stepped aside. I stormed past him, but he caught my hand and brushed a kiss against my palm at the last second. I resisted the urge to snap his fingers. “Come find me if you change your mind. We would have fun together, you and I.”

With one last, lingering look, he sauntered off, winking at one of the women who hovered nearby. I scowled after him for a moment before turning back to Reid.