Scarred (Never After #2)(35)
“Everyone, welcome our newest warrior. She’s here to join the fight.”
CHAPTER 19
Sara B.
“I’m not an idiot, Marisol, I know how to dance.”
She purses her lips—her favorite thing to do these days—and places a hand on her hip. “This will be your first dance with His Majesty.”
Walking to the edge of the ballroom, I grab a glass of water and sip from it, wishing this dreadful “class” would be over with. I’ve been taking dancing lessons since I was a small child. I know what to do.
“It’s just awkward when your partner is another woman, that’s all.” I lift my shoulders.
She huffs. “Milady, I’m just trying to keep you from embarrassing yourself and the king.”
My eyes narrow, her thinly veiled insult sliding across my skin like needles. “No, of course we wouldn’t want to do that.”
She steps over to the cylinder phonogram, its large bell end sticking out like a brass instrument and moves the narrow edge down until music plays. Breathing in deep, I crack my neck just as the door to the ballroom on the far side of the eastern wall opens.
“Did I miss anything fun?” Sheina’s voice flows across the room, and I spin, a smile breaking across my face.
“Sheina! Where have you been? I’ve missed you.” I throw out my arms and drag her into a hug, my chest warming as I do.
“I’m dreadful for disappearing, aren’t I?” She tightens her hold on me. “I have so much to tell you,” she whispers in my ear.
Nodding, I break our hug, my hands trailing down her arms until I can squeeze her fingers with mine. Curiosity prods at the corners of my mind, wondering what it is she has to say, and where it is she’s been.
“Anything I can help with?” she asks, glancing around.
“Not unless you can find me a better dancer.” I turn to Marisol, scrunching my nose. “No offense.”
Marisol sighs, her blonde brows furrowing. “This is pointless.”
A laugh escapes me. “Oh, come on, Marisol. Lighten up!” I walk toward her, reaching out and gripping her shoulder. “Everything will be just fine. You’re doing an incredible job managing everything, and I’m sorry I’m making things difficult for you. But I do know how to dance, I promise.”
Her eyes soften, the corner of her lips tilting up and she nods, exhaling a heavy breath. “I’m sorry for being so… well, you know.” She shrugs. “Planning a ball is a lot of pressure.”
I smile. “Which is why I tasked you with the responsibility. I know you can handle it better than anyone else.”
Her features lighten as she nods.
“Why don’t you go take a break and allow Sheina and I to catch up.” I squeeze her shoulder, hoping that she won’t argue with me. I know she doesn’t wish to be here anymore than I do.
“Thank you, milady.” She curtsies before she walks across the polished ballroom floor, disappearing into the castle halls.
It isn’t until the door shuts behind her, echoing off the arched ceiling and stone pillars, that I drop my shoulders and relax, turning to look at my closest friend. The one who’s felt like a stranger since arriving here.
A smile breaks across my face and she mirrors it, both of us bursting into giggles.
“I don’t think she likes me,” I say through the laughter.
Sheina’s blue eyes sparkle. “I don’t think she likes anyone.”
My hands rest on my hips, my head cocking to the side. “I’m pretty confident she likes my soon-to-be husband fairly well.”
Her brows shoot to her hairline. “No, do you think? Is she one of his mistresses?”
I lift a shoulder. “Who’s to say? I’m sure he has several. For all I know, you could be one.”
She shoves at my shoulder. “Please, Sara. Be realistic.”
“Well, what do I know? I brought you along to be my lady-in-waiting, and yet you’ve been like one of the ghosts you claim haunt the castle.”
Her smile drops, fingers tangling in front of her. “I’m sorry, don’t be mad. I just...” Looking to the side, her cheeks grow rosy.
My chest pulls tight. “What is it?”
“I’ve met someone,” she whispers. “He’s a general in the king’s military and he’s… everything.”
My eyes widen, surprise dropping like a lead weight in my gut. “Already?”
“He’s very handsome. And very good at… other things.” The pink on her cheeks turns splotchy.
I lift my brows, unable to stop the grin from spreading across my cheeks. “And you call me the wicked girl.”
Her hands shoot up to cover her face and she groans into them. “I’m foolish.” Looking up, she reaches out to grab my palm with hers. “But I won’t disappear on you again. I’m sorry I did.”
The middle of my stomach burns in warning, just like it always does when my intuition is pricking at me, screaming to pay attention. “Well, do I get to meet the mystery man?”
Her features stiffen, and the change in her energy spikes through me like an arrow.
Something is off.
“I’d love that,” she says.