The Betrothed Read online

  I heard the gasps and cries of those around me, but I managed to get in a good breath and came up without choking.

  “Hollis!” Jameson exclaimed, reaching an arm out for me. I grabbed on and he pulled me safely back into the boat in a matter of seconds. “Sweet Hollis, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  “No,” I sputtered out, already shivering from the chill of the water, “but I seem to have lost my shoes.”

  Jameson looked down at my stockinged feet and burst out laughing. “We shall have to fix that, won’t we?”

  There was laughter all around now that I was fine, and Jameson took off his coat to wrap it around me, keeping me warm.

  “Back to shore, then,” he ordered, still smiling. He held me close, looking deep into my eyes. I sensed that in this moment—shoes gone, hair a mess, soaking wet—he found me irresistible. And yet, with my parents just behind him, with a dozen demanding lords hovering nearby, he was forced to settle for placing a warm kiss on my cool forehead.

  It was enough to send new waves through my stomach, and I wondered if every moment with him would feel like this. I’d been dying for him to kiss me, hoping every time we got a brief second to ourselves he’d pull me close. So far, though, it hadn’t happened. I knew he’d kissed Hannah and Myra, but if he’d kissed any of the others, they weren’t telling. I wondered if his not kissing me yet was a good sign or a bad one.

  “Can you stand?” Delia Grace asked, bringing me back to the moment as she helped me onto the dock.

  “The dress is much heavier when drenched,” I admitted.

  “Oh, Hollis. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you fall!” Nora exclaimed once she climbed off her own boat.

  “Nonsense! It was my fault, and I learned a very valuable lesson. I shall only enjoy the river from my window from now on,” I replied with a wink.

  She laughed, almost looking as if she did so in spite of her better judgment. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes. I may have a runny nose tomorrow, but I’m right as rain, and twice as wet. No hard feelings. I promise.”

  She smiled and it felt genuine.

  “Here, let me help you,” she offered.

  “I’ve got her,” Delia Grace snapped.

  Nora’s smile instantly faded, and she went from looking quite pleased to unimaginably irritated. “Yes, I’m sure you do. Seeing as you never had a chance of getting Jameson’s attention on your own, holding on to Hollis’s skirts is the best a girl like you could do.” She raised an eyebrow and turned. “I’d keep my grip tight if I were you.”

  I opened my mouth to tell Nora that Delia Grace’s situation had never been her fault. But I found a hand on my chest, stopping me.

  “Jameson will hear,” Delia Grace said through gritted teeth. “Let’s just go.” The heartbreak in her voice was unmistakable, but she was right. Men battled on open fields; women battled behind fans. I held on to her with a firm grip as we made our way back to the castle. After so much abuse in one afternoon, I wondered if she might retreat into solitude the next day. She’d done that often when we were young and her heart couldn’t bear to hear another word.

  But the following morning, she was in my room, wordlessly pulling my hair into another intricate design. It was in the middle of this that a knock came at the door, and she opened it to an army of maids bringing in bouquet after bouquet of the first blooms of spring.

  “What exactly is this all about?” Delia Grace asked, directing them to set the flowers on any open surface they could find.

  A maid curtsied before me and handed me a folded note. I smiled to myself as I went to read it aloud. “‘In the event you have caught cold and were unable to venture out into nature today, I thought that nature ought to come to its queen.’”

  Delia Grace’s eyes widened. “Its queen?”

  I nodded, my heart racing.

  “Find my golden dress, please. I think the king deserves a thank-you.”

  Three

  I WALKED DOWN THE HALLWAY with my head high, Delia Grace just behind my right shoulder. I met the eyes of older attendees at court, smiling and nodding at them in acknowledgment. Most paid me no mind, which wasn’t surprising. I knew they felt there wasn’t much point in them getting attached to the king’s latest fling.

  It wasn’t until we approached the main hallway to the Great Room that I heard something that set me on edge.

  “That’s the one I was telling you about,” a woman whispered loudly to her friend, in a tone that made it impossible to mistake the words for praise.

  I froze, looking at Delia Grace. The squint of her eyes told me she’d heard it, too, and didn’t know what to make of it. There was a chance they were talking about her. About her parents, about her father. But gossip surrounding Delia Grace was old news, and the teasing surrounding it was usually reserved for young ladies looking for someone to take a dig at; everyone else looked for new stories, exciting ones.

  The kind that might surround King Jameson’s latest love interest.

  “Take a breath,” Delia Grace commanded. “The king will want to see you’re well.”

  I touched the flower I’d tucked behind my ear, making sure it was still in place. I straightened my gown and kept moving. She was right, of course. It was the same strategy that she’d used for years now.

  But by the time we walked into the Great Room, the stares were unmistakably disapproving. I tried to keep my expression unreadable, but underneath it all, I was a trembling mess.

  Against the wall, a man was standing, arms crossed, shaking his head.

  “It would shame the whole country,” someone muttered as they passed me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nora. Going against every instinct I’d had up until yesterday, I walked over to her, Delia Grace trailing like a shadow.

  “Good morning, Lady Nora. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but some of those at court today are . . .” I couldn’t find a word for it.

  “Yes,” she answered quietly. “It seems someone on our outing yesterday shared the story of our little battle. No one appears to be upset with me, but of course, I am not the king’s favorite.”

  I swallowed. “But His Majesty has been moving from lady to lady this last year as if it were nothing. He can’t be planning to keep my company much longer, so what’s the problem?”

  She made a face. “He took you out of the palace. He let you sit under the flag. As casual as you might think yesterday was, it was unique to all of his interactions with women to date.”

  Oh.

  “It’s the lords, isn’t it?” Delia Grace asked Nora. “The ones on the council?”

  In their first civil interaction in all the years I’d known them both, Nora gave a quick and sympathetic nod.

  “What does that mean?” I asked. “Why would the king even care what anyone thought?”

  Delia Grace, who’d always been a quicker study at government and protocol, only half rolled her eyes at me. “The lords run their counties for the king. He is dependent upon them.”

  “If the king wants peace in the outreaches of the land and expects taxes to be collected properly, he needs the lords on the council to handle it,” Nora added. “If the lords are unhappy with the way things are done, well, let’s just say they can become lazy at their jobs.”

  Ah. So the king could lose both income and security if he made the foolish mistake of aligning himself with someone the lords didn’t like. Someone like a girl who fell into a river while flinging fruit at another girl, all while still in sight of the statue honoring one of the greatest queens the country had ever known.

  For a split second, I was completely overcome by humiliation. I’d read far too much into Jameson’s words, into his attentions. I’d really thought that becoming queen might be a possibility.

  But then I remembered: I’d always known I wouldn’t be queen.

  Yes, it would be fun to be the wealthiest lady in all of Coroa, to have statues erected in my honor . . . bu
t that wasn’t realistic, and surely Jameson was only moments away from being swept off his feet by another pretty smile. The best I could do was enjoy Jameson’s elaborate flirtations while they lasted.

  Taking Nora’s hand, I faced her. “Thank you. Both for the bit of fun yesterday and your honesty today. I owe you.”

  She smiled. “Crowning Day is in a few weeks. If you and the king are still attached, I assume you’ll choreograph a dance for him. If you do, let me be a part of it.”

  Plenty of girls performed new dances for Crowning Day, hoping to gain favor by honoring the king. I supposed, if Jameson was still entertaining the idea of me then, I would be expected to have one ready. From what I remembered, Nora was pretty graceful. “I’ll want all the help I can get. You absolutely have a place.”

  I motioned for Delia Grace to follow me once more. “Come. I need to thank the king.”

  “Are you mad?” she whispered, aghast. “You’re not really going to let her dance with us, are you?”

  I looked back at her, incredulous. “She just showed me great kindness. And she was more than polite to you. It’s just a dance, and she’s very light on her feet. It will make us all look better.”

  “Her actions today can hardly make up for past wrongs,” Delia Grace insisted.

  “We’re growing up,” I told her. “Things change.”

  Her face said she wasn’t at all pacified by that answer, but she stayed silent as we made our way through the sea of people.

  King Jameson was on the raised stone dais at the head of the Great Room. It was wide, built with room for a large royal family to occupy it, but it currently held only a single throne with two small seats on either side for whoever his most important guests were at the moment.

  The Great Room was used for everything: receiving guests, balls, and even dinner each night. Along the eastern wall, the steps up to the gallery for the musicians were lined with tall windows that let in ample amounts of sunlight. But it was the western wall that drew my gaze each time I entered the room. Six stained-glass windows spanned the length, stretching from the height of my waist all the way to the ceiling. The windows depicted scenes from Coroan history in glorious illustration, cascading color and light throughout the room.

  There was one window depicting Estus being crowned, and another of women dancing in a field. One of the original panes had been destroyed in a war, and it was replaced seamlessly with a scene of King Telau bending his knee to Queen Thenelope. It might have been my favorite of the six. I wasn’t entirely sure of her role in our history, but she was deserving enough to be immortalized in the room where all the important day-to-day living of the palace was done, and that alone was impressive.

  While large tables were brought in and out for dinners, and people would come and go with seasons, the windows and the dais were always the same. I moved my eyes from the depictions of kings past to the one upon the throne now. I watched as he engaged in a deep discussion with one of his lords, but when the gold of my dress caught his eye, he turned for a second. Then, realizing it was me, he summarily dismissed the lord. I curtsied and approached the throne, welcomed by a set of warm and gracious hands.

  “My Lady Hollis.” He shook his head. “You are the rising sun. Gorgeous.”

  At those words all my resolve was undone. How could I be sure I meant nothing when he looked at me like that? I hadn’t watched him closely with the others; I didn’t think it was important at the time. But it felt completely unique, the way he moved his thumb back and forth on my hand, as if a single patch of skin wasn’t enough for him.

  “Your Majesty is too generous,” I finally answered, ducking my head. “Not just with your words, but with your gifts. I wanted to thank you for the entire garden you sent to my room,” I said pointedly, to which he chuckled. “And I wanted you to know I was well.”

  “Excellent. Then you must sit with me at dinner tonight.”

  My stomach flipped. “Majesty?”

  “As well as your parents, of course. I could use a change of company.”

  I curtsied again. “As you wish.” I could see there were others waiting for his attention, so I quickly backed away, positively giddy. I reached out for Delia Grace’s hand, clutching her for support.

  “You’re going to be set beside the king, Hollis,” she murmured.

  “Yes.” The thought left me as breathless as if I’d run across the garden.

  “And your parents as well. He hasn’t done that before.”

  I gripped her hand even tighter. “I know. Shall . . . shall we go tell them?” I looked into Delia Grace’s all-seeing eyes, the ones that could read my simultaneous excitement and fear, the ones that saw I didn’t understand what was happening.

  Those very eyes brightened as she smirked. “I think a lady of your importance should simply have a letter sent.”

  We laughed as we left the room, not caring if anyone looked or made comments. I still wasn’t completely convinced of Jameson’s intentions, and I knew that the people at court weren’t thrilled by my presence, but none of that mattered right now. Tonight, I would dine beside a king. And that was something to celebrate.

  Delia Grace and I sat in my room, completing the reading time she insisted we have daily. She had a variety of interests: history, mythology, and the great philosophers of the day. I preferred novels. Usually, I’d be transported to places dreamed up in the pages of a book, but today, my ears were on edge. I was listening, glancing over at the door every few minutes, waiting for them to storm in.

  At the one moment I finally stumbled upon an interesting section, the doors flew open.

  “Is this a joke?” my father asked, his tone not angered but shockingly hopeful.

  I shook my head. “No, sir. The king extended the invitation just this morning. You seemed so busy, I thought a letter would be more appropriate.”

  I shot a conspiratorial look at Delia Grace, who pretended to still be immersed in her book.

  My mother swallowed, her body never fully settling in one spot as she spoke. “We are all to sit with the king tonight?”

  I nodded. “Indeed, madam. You, Father, and myself. I’ll need Delia Grace with me, so I thought her mother might join us as well.”

  At that, Mother’s excited fidgeting stopped. My father closed his eyes, and I recognized the action from many a time when he wanted to think over his words before he spoke them.

  “Certainly you would prefer to be solely in the company of your family for such a momentous occasion.”

  I smiled. “There is room for all of us and more at the king’s table. I hardly think it will matter.”

  My mother looked down her nose at me. “Delia Grace, would you please leave us to speak with our daughter?”

  We shared a tired look, and Delia Grace closed her book, setting it on the table before she left.

  “Mother, honestly!”

  She moved quickly, coming to tower over me where I sat. “This is not a game, Hollis. That girl is tainted, and she shouldn’t be in your company. At first it seemed sweet, like charity. But now . . . you have to sever ties.”

  My mouth fell open. “I most certainly will not! She has been my closest friend at court.”

  “She’s a bastard!” my mother hissed.

  I swallowed. “That is a rumor. Her mother has sworn she was faithful. Lord Domnall only threw that accusation at Delia Grace’s mother—eight years after the fact, mind you—so he could arrange a divorce.”

  “Either way, a divorce is enough of a reason to stay away from her!” Mother argued.

  “It’s not her fault!”

  “Too right you are, dear,” Father added, ignoring me. “If her mother’s blood isn’t bad enough, her father’s is. Divorced.” He shook his head. “And to have eloped at all, let alone so quickly after.”

  I sighed. Coroa was a land of laws. Many of them centered around family and marriage. Being unfaithful to your spouse meant you were, at best, an outcast. At worst, there would be a trip to the
tower. Divorce was something so rare, I’d never actually seen it happen with my own eyes. But Delia Grace had.

  Her father claimed that his wife, the former Lady Clara Domnall, had an affair that resulted in the birth of their only child, Delia Grace. On those grounds, he demanded and was granted a divorce. But within three months he’d run off with another lady, handing off the titles Delia Grace was set to inherit to this woman and any offspring they might produce. Of course, what were titles with such a reputation? Eloping meant an awareness of widespread disapproval and was seen as a last resort, with some couples choosing to separate rather than take such desperate action.

  Still a lady in her own right, Lady Clara reclaimed her maiden name, and brought her daughter to court so that she might be able to grow up with the influence of the gentry. What she got instead was endless torment.

  I’d always found the whole story questionable. If Lord Domnall had suspected his wife had been unfaithful and that Delia Grace wasn’t his, why did he wait eight years to bring it up? There had never been any proof to back up the claims, but he was granted his divorce all the same. Delia Grace said he must have fallen hard for the woman he eloped with. I tried to tell her it was nonsense, but she shook her head at me.

  “No. He must have loved her more than my mother and me combined. Why would you leave for something you cared for less?” The look in her eyes was so resolute that I couldn’t argue with her, and I never brought up the topic again.

  I didn’t need to. Half the palace did on our behalf. And if they weren’t judging her to her face, they were at least thinking it. My parents were proof enough of that.

  “You are being too hasty,” I insisted. “It was very generous of the king to invite us to dinner, but it doesn’t mean anything more will come of it. And even if it does, after all this time, doesn’t Delia Grace—who has always been a model of perfection at court—deserve to stay at my side?”

  My father huffed. “People have already passed judgment about your escapades on the river. Do you want to give them more ammunition?”