Page 26 of Legacy of Glass
She stared at it as if he was holding out a dagger instead of offering an open palm.
“Your slipper?” he prodded, trying not to let the frustration and impatience sound in his voice.
“My slipper?”
She continued to stare at him blankly until her eyes suddenly widened, and she gave a start. Removing one of the glass shoes she wore, she placed it tentatively into his hand.
Julius sighed, a headache building behind his temples. “If you know so little, it might be best if you don’t speak at all. Try not to talk of tonight if you can possibly avoid it.”
He heard her outraged gasp as he stepped back and finally closed the door of the carriage, signaling to the coachman to move off. He watched the carriage depart with a stoic countenance, hoping the surrounding footmen couldn’t read any of the frustration in his eyes.
Once again he had apparently managed to offend her. But she would be home for a single night, and it was already late. Was it really too much to ask her to refrain from gossiping about the disaster until they could all work out the best story to make public?
His parents claimed a betrothal was the only safe way forward, but did any of them really know what they were getting into?
Chapter10
Olivia
Olivia fumed as her carriage rolled away from the palace. But not even the heat of her anger at the insufferable prince could last for long. She was too overwhelmed and stunned to maintain her irritation. Nothing about the night had gone as she had expected.
Not only had Marigold completely disappeared, but instead of enjoying a night of food and dancing and fun with her friend, she was now betrothed to the crown prince.
She let out a crack of laughter. There didn’t seem any other possible response to such a ridiculous situation. Part of her was still expecting to wake up in bed and find it had all been a dream. Except she wasn’t sure her imagination was capable of coming up with such a scenario.
What would her aunt and uncle think? What would her parents and younger brothers back in Henton think? She burst into fresh laughter, tears running down her face. She couldn’t even imagine their faces when the news reached them. Just the betrothal was bad enough. If the king and queen didn’t find a way to dissolve it, Olivia’s family would have to travel to the capital to attend their daughter’s royal wedding. It was completely incomprehensible.
But as she considered her aunt’s reaction, her mirth quickly subsided. Aunt Helen was going to be delighted. Uncomfortably so.
She might briefly bemoan that it had been Olivia to befriend Marigold and not one of her own daughters, but she had never expected either of her girls to marry the crown prince. Like everyone else, she must have been expecting to see a girl of substance and position arrive in the glass slippers. Apparently, only ignorant country girls with no experience of the Midsummer Ball could have been unaware of the once-in-a-generation arrangements at this particular ball.
Olivia raked through her memory, trying to find any instances where she had missed the obvious. With so much added context, she could understand a number of comments more clearly in retrospect. People had been abuzz with talk of the prince turning twenty-one and his parents finally arranging a marriage for him. It had often been mentioned alongside the ball, but she hadn’t understood the connection. She had imagined that the ball was special merely because it was the last opportunity to dance with the prince before he was wed.
She shook her head at her own foolishness. If she hadn’t avoided the topic of the ball with her cousins out of jealousy, she might have eventually heard enough to piece together the truth. And then she wouldn’t have landed in such a quagmire.
Fresh outrage filled her as she thought of the true cause of her present predicament. How could Marigold have betrayed her so?
It wasn’t only conversation about the ball that seemed obvious in hindsight. Her friend had been bothered by something—a conflict with her father—and it was now easy to guess the cause of the conflict. Marigold’s father had informed her of her betrothal to Prince Julius, and Marigold had begun plotting a way out. Olivia had even seen the fateful idea hit Marigold and had feared it would be outrageous. But not even her past experience with Marigold had prepared her for how outrageous.
Her friend’s motivation for gifting Olivia with a custom gown and glass slippers was now glaringly obvious. Olivia just wished she had questioned Marigold further beforehand.
But even if Marigold had sent Olivia in alone to confound the king and queen’s plans, how could she then abandon Olivia to the unfolding situation? Had she truly thought sending a letter was enough? Marigold had taken the blame in it, but what if the king and queen hadn’t believed her written words? They might have blamed Olivia and punished her or her family for Olivia’s role in the charade. The circumstances that had forced the royals into continuing with the betrothal might have been the only thing staying their hand.
And even without any blame being assigned to her, Olivia felt the betrothal was its own punishment. She could only imagine what the members of court would think of her for thrusting herself on them. She wasn’t likely to have an easy time of it. And if the worst happened, she might find herself tied for life to the man from the hill, of all people.
She had always imagined that she would marry one day, and that when she did, she would find not only a lifelong love, but also someone to work beside her and support her. She had pictured the two of them as a team against anything life might throw at them, just as her parents had always been. But her betrothed had just suggested she stay silent and out of the way to avoid inconveniencing him or his family. If it came to a wedding, she would end up stuck in a position she was ill-equipped to fill with no one to support her.
Tears welled in her eyes, slipping out and running down her cheek. For a few moments, the ball had seemed as magical as she had dreamed, despite its strangeness. The prince had even apologized to her. But that had all been part of an act.
Everything he had done after she arrived at the ball had been part of a role he was playing. He had thought she was his bride, chosen for him by his parents. No wonder he had wanted to start fresh and make sure she didn’t repeat the story of his foolishness to members of the court.
The tears broke the hold she was barely keeping on her emotions, and within moments she was sobbing without restraint in the back of the carriage. But she didn’t have the luxury of a private breakdown. All too soon the carriage stopped, and she heard a groom dismounting.
Choking back tears, she wiped at her face just as he pulled open the door and let down the steps. Keeping her head bowed, she murmured polite appreciation and fled from the carriage into the haven of her aunt and uncle’s home.
But even the manor wasn’t guaranteed to provide privacy for long. How soon before her aunt and cousins arrived home? And would they dare to come into her bedchamber if she was already in bed when they appeared?
And what of Marigold? Olivia wanted to go straight next door and demand to see her friend, but despite everything, she couldn’t bring herself to pound on Lord Emerson’s door in the middle of the night. Even if she tried, she would likely be sent away by a haughty butler, with the end result that she would run into her aunt and cousins when she returned home, unsuccessful. Abandoning the idea, Olivia took the stairs at a run, slipping into her room and locking the door behind her, just in case. She needed a few hours to compose herself before facing her aunt’s shock and joy.
