cousin—he’s the one over there with the red beard,” she said, inclining her head to the left.
Violet saw that he was flirting with several ladies in his vicinity. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“So am I,” Genevieve said with a sigh.
Nearly all of the chairs at the table were filled, and it looked like almost everyone had assembled except for Richard and his parents. Violet was mesmerized by the high ceilings, the length of the table—which would take a good while to walk—and all of the ornate clothing. Even the lower-ranking servants wore finer clothes than Violet had ever owned.
The table was set with bunches of brightly colored flowers, gold and silver plates, and food she didn’trecognize laid out in large bowls and platters. None of Violet’s dining companions seemed the least amazed or impressed by the setting or the food. She swallowed hard, reminded once more of what an interloper she was in Richard’s world.
Suddenly there was a collective intake of breath from the guests seated around the table. Violet turned to see what everyone was looking at in the doorway.
A young woman seemed to float into the room. She had raven black hair and eyes to match. Her skin was so pale Violet had to wonder if she’d ever seen the sun. Her face was proud and her posture rigid. Her magnificent golden dress put all the others, including Violet’s, to shame. She was the most beautiful woman Violet had ever seen. Several of the other princesses groaned quietly in dismay.
“Who is that?” Violet asked Genevieve.
“Celeste, the princess of Lore. Everyone thinks she’s the one to beat.”
“Just because she is pretty? The challenges haven’t even begun,” Violet said.
A girl to Genevieve’s left shook her head. “Don’t worry. Celeste is sure to win every one of them. When Celeste wants something, she gets it.”
Violet gritted her teeth. Why was it that the daughter of the devious Lore devils who had caused such turmoil and despair during the Great War looked like an angel? Violet had an abrupt desire to tear the other girl apart with her bare hands. Celeste’s parents had murdered the royal family— my family, Violet remindedherself. She half rose from her chair, her hands clenched, before forcing herself to sit back down. By anyone’s measure engaging in a brawl during dinner at the castle was neither ladylike nor sensitive.
Celeste found her seat at the other end of the table. “Are you okay?” Genevieve asked.
“I will be,” Violet said, forcing a smile.
The steward clapped his hands twice to get everyone’s attention. “Majesties, Highnesses, lords and ladies, I give you King Charles, Queen Martha, and Prince Richard.”
Everyone rose to their feet as the royal family entered the banquet hall, and Violet followed suit. Richard walked beside his mother. Watching him at a distance, Violet was struck again by how handsome he was. He also seemed so different in this regal setting, as if he were far away in another world. And for an instant she forgot that he was her Richard, the Richard she had nursed back to health, the Richard she had shared a stolen moment with just minutes before, the Richard who had been leaning in to kiss her, again.
Once Richard and his parents were seated at the head of the table, the rest of the guests seated themselves. Then platters laden with the most exotic food Violet had ever seen, steaming and aromatic, were carried in. The food Violet had assumed was the main course had been only the cold dishes. As she stared at what was set before her, she realized that she was ill prepared to act like a princess, especially since she didn’t even know how to eat like one.
There was a bowl of what looked to be clear broth set before each girl. Violet started to pick it up in her hands and then paused. Discreetly, she watched Genevieve to see how she would drink it.
Genevieve reached toward the bowl and put her hands in it. She rinsed them thoroughly before drying
Violet saw that he was flirting with several ladies in his vicinity. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“So am I,” Genevieve said with a sigh.
Nearly all of the chairs at the table were filled, and it looked like almost everyone had assembled except for Richard and his parents. Violet was mesmerized by the high ceilings, the length of the table—which would take a good while to walk—and all of the ornate clothing. Even the lower-ranking servants wore finer clothes than Violet had ever owned.
The table was set with bunches of brightly colored flowers, gold and silver plates, and food she didn’trecognize laid out in large bowls and platters. None of Violet’s dining companions seemed the least amazed or impressed by the setting or the food. She swallowed hard, reminded once more of what an interloper she was in Richard’s world.
Suddenly there was a collective intake of breath from the guests seated around the table. Violet turned to see what everyone was looking at in the doorway.
A young woman seemed to float into the room. She had raven black hair and eyes to match. Her skin was so pale Violet had to wonder if she’d ever seen the sun. Her face was proud and her posture rigid. Her magnificent golden dress put all the others, including Violet’s, to shame. She was the most beautiful woman Violet had ever seen. Several of the other princesses groaned quietly in dismay.
“Who is that?” Violet asked Genevieve.
“Celeste, the princess of Lore. Everyone thinks she’s the one to beat.”
“Just because she is pretty? The challenges haven’t even begun,” Violet said.
A girl to Genevieve’s left shook her head. “Don’t worry. Celeste is sure to win every one of them. When Celeste wants something, she gets it.”
Violet gritted her teeth. Why was it that the daughter of the devious Lore devils who had caused such turmoil and despair during the Great War looked like an angel? Violet had an abrupt desire to tear the other girl apart with her bare hands. Celeste’s parents had murdered the royal family— my family, Violet remindedherself. She half rose from her chair, her hands clenched, before forcing herself to sit back down. By anyone’s measure engaging in a brawl during dinner at the castle was neither ladylike nor sensitive.
Celeste found her seat at the other end of the table. “Are you okay?” Genevieve asked.
“I will be,” Violet said, forcing a smile.
The steward clapped his hands twice to get everyone’s attention. “Majesties, Highnesses, lords and ladies, I give you King Charles, Queen Martha, and Prince Richard.”
Everyone rose to their feet as the royal family entered the banquet hall, and Violet followed suit. Richard walked beside his mother. Watching him at a distance, Violet was struck again by how handsome he was. He also seemed so different in this regal setting, as if he were far away in another world. And for an instant she forgot that he was her Richard, the Richard she had nursed back to health, the Richard she had shared a stolen moment with just minutes before, the Richard who had been leaning in to kiss her, again.
Once Richard and his parents were seated at the head of the table, the rest of the guests seated themselves. Then platters laden with the most exotic food Violet had ever seen, steaming and aromatic, were carried in. The food Violet had assumed was the main course had been only the cold dishes. As she stared at what was set before her, she realized that she was ill prepared to act like a princess, especially since she didn’t even know how to eat like one.
There was a bowl of what looked to be clear broth set before each girl. Violet started to pick it up in her hands and then paused. Discreetly, she watched Genevieve to see how she would drink it.
Genevieve reached toward the bowl and put her hands in it. She rinsed them thoroughly before drying
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