Page 4 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

“Because it’s a ball and therefore requires dancing. Plus, I really need Delaire’s support for my plan to unionize the docks. She has good relationships with all kinds of rich merchants who might be made to see the value in it.” Nalani elbowed her brother. “You know Mama told you to be polite tonight.”

His brows rose. “I was polite.”

“You shook Delaire’s hand off your arm and snapped at her.”

“Only because she wouldn’t accept my first three refusals.” He met Nalani’s eyes and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Which were polite. Excruciatingly so.”

Charis laughed. “I shudder to think of your version of excruciatingly polite.”

Holland sniffed. “I simply told her the truth. I have no interest in parading around in front of everyone, no interest in touching someone I don’t care for, and certainly no interest in the invitation to brunch that her mother would surely send my way after she saw us dancing.”

Nalani’s expression could have shattered glass. “Holland Farragin, please tell me you didn’t actually say all that to Delaire.”

“Of course I did. It was the truth.”

Nalani sighed and turned to Charis. “He’s a lost cause, and he’s lucky we love him. Now, did I see you dancing with Lord Pellinsworth?” Her voice lowered. “I’ve heard a rumor he’s been saying some very nasty things about the royal family’s loyalty to the occupied lands in the north. Step carefully there.”

“I’m always careful,” Charis said, but she replayed her conversation with Lord Pellinsworth all the same. The obligatory observation that it was unseasonably warm for early autumn. A comment about the delicacies available on the refreshments table. And a subtle dig for information about whether the queen would be open to negotiating a cease-fire if it meant annexing enough of north Calera to keep King Alaric of Montevallo happy. It was no more than anyone else in the antiwar faction had tried, and Charis had deftly turned his inquiry aside and steered their conversation toward safer topics.

A bell rang from the orchestra pit—the signal that intermission would soon be over. Charis rolled her shoulders to remove some of the tension and massaged her aching cheeks. Just one more hour, and she could gracefully exit the ball and return to her chambers to make notes on the conversations she’d had tonight. So far, she hadn’t found any obvious solutions for peace with Montevallo—at least, not for a peace that didn’t involve sacrificing the Calerans who had already been enslaved by the invading army—but if she saw everything on paper, she might find something she’d missed. At the very least, she might find an inroad to shoring up support for the royal family so the queen could face enemies outside the kingdom without worrying about those coming at her from within.

“Your Highness!” A quiet voice filled with warmth spoke just behind the princess.

Charis turned to find Lady Channing, one of the members of the royal council and the closest thing Queen Letha had to a friend, standing there. Eyes twinkling, Lady Channing smiled and curtsied.

“I’d heard you were back from your trip to the middle kingdoms, but I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Charis returned the lady’s smile easily. “The journey can be very tiring.”

Lady Channing sighed. “Are you trying to call me old?”

“Never.”

“Come now, Your Highness. You aren’t a liar.” Lady Channing’s smile widened.

Charis laughed. “You’re only a few years older than Mother. If I called you old, I’d have to say the same about her, and I think we both know how well that would go.”

“Quite.” Lady Channing’s graying brown hair was pulled into its usual no-nonsense updo, and she wore a simple silk gown in dusky blue.

“I trust your trip to Thallis, Verace, and Rullenvor was productive?” Charis asked as, from the corner of her eye, she caught a middle-aged man anxiously hovering as though trying to find an opening to ask her for the next dance.

Couldn’t he let her finish intermission before swooping in? She hadn’t even visited the ladies’ parlor yet to have Milla reapply fragrance and check that her towering updo was still firmly intact. With that thought in mind, Charis began moving toward the southeast exit, gesturing for Lady Channing to walk with her.

“The trip was productive enough.” Lady Channing moved closer and lowered her voice. “I will continue my relationship with those kingdoms through their ambassadors in the hope that we may rely on them as we seek to end this war. Things look favorable toward that end.”

Charis’s guards kept pace with her from the sidelines as she neared the exit. “I look forward to hearing the details of your journey. I’m sure Mother already has a meeting with you on her calendar.”

“Tomorrow, Your Highness.” Lady Channing stepped back as a pair of footmen opened the door to allow Charis into the corridor that held the ladies’ parlor.

Behind them, the bell to signal the end of intermission sounded. Charis was going to be late for the third hour, but as Mother was still in the parlor herself, she could hardly fault her daughter for wanting a two-minute reprieve from the crowds.

A frisson of unease spread through Charis.

It wasn’t like Mother to spend so long in the ladies’ parlor or miss the start of the ball’s final hour. Had she eaten something that disagreed with her? If she was indisposed, Charis would have to abandon any hope of even a brief reprieve. One of them should be on the dais overseeing the festivities and making sure the guests of honor were impressed with Calera and her ruling family.

Strange that Mother hadn’t sent a messenger to let Charis know what was going on.

“Until tomorrow,” Charis said to Lady Channing.

Reuben and Elsbet, hands on their swords, flanked her as she left the ballroom and hurried toward the open door halfway down the corridor. She was nearly to the threshold when a scream tore through the air.

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