A Throne of Fangs

7 - A Pawn For A Princess

I did a final check of my outfit. The dress was simple yet elegant. It dipped at my neckline in a way that showed my womanhood, but not too much of it, and accentuated my waist. The full skirt had movement and wasn’t stiff when I walked. And it was all made of a decadent dark green satin that brought out the golden ring around my green eyes.

I had forgone over-the-top jewels tonight, instead choosing dripping earrings of gold and pearls that almost matched the pins in my hair. I wanted nothing, especially not something as nonsensical as jewels, to detract from me tonight.

I wanted to be seen.

After I re-approved myself, I waited near the door, growing increasingly nervous.

When a knock came, I jumped and had to even my breath before I called for them to come in.

Two men, taller than the average servants I had seen, stood behind it, not entering my chambers. “We are to escort you to the party,” one said.

“Thank you.” They parted ways so I could walk in front of them. Guards then. “I do not know where I am going,” I whispered over my shoulder.

“We will guide you.”

Under their direction and what I remembered from this morning, we made our way back to the main hall. From there, it was easy to follow the swell of chatter.

Two omegas opened the doors for me, and I was engulfed by the warmth of candelabras, bright conversation, and a sea of swimming fabrics, all cloying for my attention.

At the front was a stage where the queen and king sat, but the prince wasn’t with them. Bethany and my father stood off to the side.

I looked behind me, and the guards weren’t there. Was I supposed to meet someone here? Was I supposed to go to the front to join my father?

Nothing was happening yet, so I decided to join the crowd, sipping on cool champagne and admiring the dresses and general revelry of it all in the mirrored golden ballroom.

Too soon, a hush fell over the crowd. The candles above us seemed to somehow dim, and I edged closer to the front but was unable to push through the masses of people, mostly women, who formed a wall of silk in front of the stage. I was forced to stand off to the side.

“Welcome,” King Richard started, his voice booming over the crowd. “We are ecstatic to share this joyous occasion with you all to welcome our future princess and our Prince Christian’s bride-to-be.”

The crowd swelled with applause, from behind me at least. The crowd in front of me clapped demurely, sounding like soft rain on a roof. They shifted to follow the footsteps of a man who entered the stage, seeming to push at each other, trying to claw closer.

I strained to see the prince. My breath hitched when I finally caught sight of him. He was a certain sort of beautiful you only saw in paintings. He radiated poise and goodness, and my stomach flipped despite myself.

If I was f.orced to marry, to bear heirs, I didn't think his bed would be a bad one to warm. I pushed that thought away, disgusted with myself, but still pleased with the thought that the prince might be someone decent, someone I could eventually come to love or form a comfortable friendship with.

After all, he was as much a pawn in this as I was.

I stood straight, looking ahead, savoring the last few moments of anonymity before I would be called to the spotlight and never able to slip into a party like this again.

Someone sidled up to me, and something akin to warning bells went off. They radiated a cold, ancient power I had never felt before. It beckoned to me on an instinctual level.

"Are you here to offer your respects or your condolences?" a deep voice that sounded like velvety shadows incarnate rumbled next to me.

I decided to indulge my curiosity. "Condolences to whom?" I asked.

"Depends on what you think of the darling prince." The man shrugged, and I fought to keep my gaze focused ahead.

"I'm curious to hear your thoughts first, sir." I inclined my head to the stage.

"Spoken like a true courtier," he noted.

"Thank you."

"I didn't say it was a good thing."

"I will take the praise nonetheless," I replied.

He paused, assessing. "I'm here to congratulate the prince and pay condolences to his wife. If she holds any modicum of intelligence, then she will be incredibly bored with him. I pray to the gods of old that she is as dim-witted as him. Only then can they truly be happy."

I snorted loudly and covered my mouth. I felt the stranger's eyes widen, but I couldn't stop giggling. A few others around us took note and turned down their noses, but most of the audience was too enthralled by the royals on stage.

I was pretty sure I was supposed to be somewhere at this point, but I was having too much fun as a spectator. Well, I wasn't having a bad time, and I think that was as close to fun as I might get in this palace.

The man edged closer. The air between us was a palpable thing as the Queen listed off her son's many accolades.

I wondered if this person already knew who I was and if this was the first of what I was sure would be many ploys at swaying the crown. Well, swaying the prince, not me. I would just be buzzing in my husband's ear in bed.

"I am curious," The man rumbled.

"Hm?" I barely heard him. I was too enthralled with the list of accolades of my husband-to-be. It was an impressive list.

"If the prince chose his bride himself or if it was a political arrangement,"

“Aren't they all political?" I asked. Marriage had never consumed too many of my thoughts. I figured when I would take a husband, it would be for political reasons. I just thought I would be able to choose those reasons.

"I heard there were a few in the running." He shrugged. "Mostly political, some higher-ranked daughters claiming they were there for love."

I snorted again, thankfully quieter this time, and the man let out a low rumble of laughter that danced through me.

"Is that why you are here?" he lowered his voice. "A scorned lover or one hoping to be chosen?"

I wished beyond all hope the prince would choose someone else, but I knew my fate was sealed.

"Why are you here?" I asked instead. "Which bride do you have your favor on?" Which woman here was he the puppet master of? Surely, he would know that there was no competition for the prince’s hand, not one he could win anyway. I wouldn’t even dare to hope this could be undone this late.

"For the party."

I finally looked up at him. He had dark, slightly wavy hair that was neatly combed back, but a loose strand fell over eyes so deep blue that they almost looked black- a starless night. He was younger than I thought and stood taller than most in the room. I hid my surprise well, I hoped at least.

"The food is good." He shrugged. “I would never turn down a good party, especially one I’m not paying for.” He must be some sort of noble, then.

His dark stare slid to mine, and I had to look away. "You want to see the person you hope to sway to your will. See how malleable she is and who she might already be aligned with," I stated, daring a sideways glance.

Half of his face curled up in a smile. "That too, I won't lie to you," he responded. I rolled my eyes. "Fine, I might," he admitted.

"I appreciate that. That might be the only honest thing someone tells me here."

"Another honest truth?" he asked, and I nodded slightly. "I was overcome by curiosity to see who The King and Queen finally deemed good enough to pass on their darling princelings' blood."

"Just curiosity? That’s all." I asked, smirking again.

“For now,” he responded, and I didn’t know why, but I believed him.

"I don’t know if they would deem anyone good enough,” I responded. We were one kingdom; there were no other princesses of our kind.

“The last engagement wasn’t the only one that was broken off before it got started. I’m interested to see if this one goes through.” I pushed away the spark of hope that sent through me. “But this is the first one that they have made a formal announcement for,” he added, and my hope turned to ash before it could even truly spark.

“Why are you speaking to me as if I would not know of these things?” I demanded, grasping for anything to say.

He paused for a moment. “You are not from here,” he replied.

“Word gets around.”

“Yes.” I could feel him turn to me. “It does. That is why I was so surprised this one has been kept a secret; even whispers have only reached me a few days before this celebration was announced.”

“You need better spies.”

Even from the corner of my eye, I could see his smile. “That might be so.”

I didn’t realize that it was quieter now. Ms. Thatcher was stirring near the edge of the stage. I stood on my tip toes and made eyes with my father, who looked instantly relieved. Did they believe me so foolish to run? I had nothing to run to.

Figures on the stage shifted.

The air crackled, and he leaned down to me. "You still haven't told me why you are here," he whispered into my ear.

“It is our pleasure to introduce Anaya, daughter of Alpha Arthur of The Western Pack.”

Really..? The prince got a full five minutes of accolades. I’m sure they could have scraped together something.

I took a deep breath and slipped into the demure yet unbreakable mask of a future princess. One that I hoped looked like she belonged here and was happy she did.

The crowd broke out in hushed whispers as they all shifted, trying to catch the first sight of their future princess. I started walking, and the crowd parted ways, even the wall of perfume and corsets that was impenetrable moments before.

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back, but I could feel his gaze on my back, following me every step of the way.