Once Upon a Romance 03 - With True Love's Kiss (16 page)

“Greetings,
Prince Anders. I am so pleased you could accept our invitation.”

“I imagine
you would be best pleased if you could sit down, and be done with this long
presentation.”

Bianca
peered into his face, but she could detect no trace of affront. Rather, he was
smiling gently, as though he understood not only that his words were true, but
why they were true. As though he didn’t mind. So the smile she gave him back
was warm and sincere, despite her exhaustion.

“Forgive me,
it has been a long day. But truly, I am pleased to meet you, and to find you so
understanding.”

“It does not
seem to me to be a difficult thing to understand.” He smiled again, and Bianca
thought that if his face was plain, it was also warm, and sincere. “Perhaps you
will have a chance to rest before the ball tonight, and I may claim a dance
from you.”

“I would be
delighted.” She watched him greet the king and queen briefly, and then be led
off into the palace. Vivienne was silent at her side until he was out of sight.

“There’s
something about that one.”

“He seems
kind.”

Vivienne
shook her head. “That isn’t what I mean. It’s hard to explain.”

“Well, you
can try at the ball tonight. Right now, though, I am going to take off this
dreadful dress and have a nap.”

“Shall I
wake you when Ella arrives with your gown?”

“Please. But
not a second before.”

Bianca didn’t
get to sleep nearly as long as she had hoped. Ella arrived early, and dragged
her out of bed and directly into a bath, against her protests.

“I spent an
hour in the tub this morning!”

“And then you
stood in the sun and sweated in that stifling brocade. You need a bath.”

“I need
sleep!”

“It’s hard
being a princess.”

Ella was
merciless with her toilette; Bianca didn’t even get to lounge in the bath.
Before she knew it she was washed, dried, powdered, and sitting before the
mirror in her room, with Ella dabbing just a hint of scented oil on her
temples.

“Ella, aren’t
you attending the ball this evening?”

“Of course.
I never miss a chance to dance with Max.”

“Then don’t
you need to dress, as well?”

“I’ve
brought my gown with me; I’ll get it on while you’re getting into yours, and
then I’ll come back to do your hair.”

Bianca
sighed, her last hope at a reprieve gone.

A maid
brought her some tea to sip, and between Ella’s delicate brushstrokes Bianca
managed to down half a pot. By the time her face paint was complete she felt
almost awake, and ready to don her gown.

Ella’s new
design was a daring thing. It borrowed from current fashion, with a tight laced
band running under the bust, but instead of flowing loosely around the body, it
was cut to fit close all the way to the hip, and then flared to float gently
above the floor. She hadn’t designed it to be worn with the old, hip-length
style of corset, however, just the modern short stays. In other words, Bianca’s
natural form was going to be on display.

She found
she was looking forward to it.

Ella had
made the underdress of both the silks Bianca had selected. The front was
silver, then the sides and back were draped in the ice blue. The silver-shot
mesh overdress floated on top, creating the impression of white with deep
shadows beneath it. The inky blue velvet ribbon had been set to one side, along
with ribbons of silver and white, to be woven in her hair, and Ella had found a
silk of the same color to create the banding under the bust. Finally, she’d
solved the problem of covering Bianca’s back without giving her a high-necked
gown. She left the scooped neckline low, as fashion dictated, but she created a
tall, free-standing collar that rose well above the nape of the neck.

It was
gorgeous, and Bianca loved it, even if it meant she had to bathe and powder and
be woken early in order to wear it. She slipped into both layers and laced the
banding shut with the silver cording Ella had attached. Then she resolutely
turned away from her mirror. She wasn’t going to look until Ella came back, and
could see her reaction.

Fortunately
for her patience, she didn’t have to wait long for Ella’s return.
Unfortunately, Ella insisted on doing her hair before she’d let Bianca look.
She gathered most of Bianca’s hair into a low knot that sat just above the high
collar, and then spent ages curling the front into perfect little ringlets.
Then she wound the ribbons in and out of the hair, so that they peeked out of
the inky black curls, and let the ends dangle down so they barely brushed her
collarbone.

At last Ella
was done, and she gestured to the mirror with a flourish.

Bianca’s jaw
dropped. Over the years any number of courtiers had told her she was lovely,
and she wasn’t blind. She had known, in a vague sort of way, that they were
correct. But the woman reflected back in the mirror was more than lovely. She
was enchanting.

Bianca
thought that perhaps she ought to be thinking of the impression she was going
to make on the seven men who had come to court her. But as she gazed on her
reflection, she could really only wonder one thing.

What would
Robin think of his snow maiden?

***

Ella and
Vivienne escorted her down to the ballroom, but insisted that she enter alone.

“They’re
here to see you, darling,” Vivienne scolded. “You can’t think to hide behind
us.”

Ella was
more reassuring. “You look beautiful. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

They backed
away from her and slipped through the door. The majordomo announced them in
ringing tones, and Bianca heard the crowd murmuring greetings as the two young
women made their way down the grand staircase.

It was time,
and Bianca swallowed hard and forced her shoulders back. Then she nodded to the
footman, and walked with a measured tread into the ballroom.

Beside her,
the majordomo cried her name, but she couldn’t hear him, for her ears were
ringing. Below her a sea of faces looked up, and she almost panicked, but then
her eyes began picking her friends out of the crowd. Fain was standing at the
bottom of the stairs, ready to offer his arm once she reached the floor.
Vivienne stood next to him, a small smile of encouragement on her face. Max and
Ella stood to the other side of her foster-brother, and when she looked at
them, Max gave a quick twitch of his head to the stairs.

Ah yes. She
needed to go down now.

It was nerve
wracking, but she concentrated on keeping her balance and looking graceful.
Each step brought her closer to the waiting throng, and she tried to focus, to
see them as individuals rather than a mob. There—that grey-headed lord was
smiling at her. Next to him, a rather fashionable young woman broke off in her
appraisal, and made a beeline through the crowd toward Ella. A matronly woman
several steps back looked scandalized, although whether it was at Bianca’s
appearance or what her companion was whispering in her ear, who could say? And,
right at the bottom of the stairs, Billy Notter was standing in his page’s
uniform, holding a drink for her.

Bianca made
it safely to Billy’s side, and gratefully took the punch from him. “Thank you,
Master Notter.”

“I say, your
highness, this is a jolly good party!” Billy had clearly picked up slang from
the capital, without absorbing court manners. Bianca had to bite her lip to
keep from laughing.

“Billy,”
Fain admonished him, “if you’re going to dress like a page you must act the
part.”

“Oh!” The
boy’s eyes widened. “Sorry. Ummm…” He thought furiously, and then made a
quick little bow. “It was my pleasure, your highness.”

She nodded
at him, and he flashed a brilliant grin before darting off towards the
refreshment table.

“I know, I
know.” Fain was holding up a hand to forestall Vivienne. “You like him as he
is. But he wants to be a proper page, and I am trying to teach him.”

“I can’t
imagine why he wants to be a proper page.” Max drawled. “I never was, and I
turned out fine.”

“Mostly
thanks to me.” Ella said with a prim tone and a twinkle in her eye.

“Right you
are, my lady wife. Would you care to dance?”

“I thought
you’d never ask.”

The two
headed off for the dance floor, and Vivienne looked wistfully after them.

“Fain, why
don’t you ask my cousin to dance?”

Vivi whipped
her head back at Bianca’s words. “Oh, no. There will be dancing all night. I’m
not leaving you here alone, you’ll get all nervous again.”

“Perhaps I
may be of service.” Lord Edicus had approached in time to catch Vivienne’s
response. “Princess,” he said, bowing to Bianca, “may I have the honor of the
first dance?”

“I’d be
delighted, my lord.” Bianca placed her hand in his, and turned a victorious
smile on Vivi. “Now go enjoy yourself.”

The older
man led Bianca out to the dance floor, and they took their place at the end of
a long line of partners. As they waited for the music to start, Bianca started
to feel an itch between her shoulder blades.

“I feel like
everyone is staring at us, my lord.”

“That’s
because they are, your highness. But don’t let it worry you. Almost all of them
wish you well.”

“Almost all?”

He shrugged.
“Invariably, there will be those who are striving to thwart your goals, or take
your power, and there’s always good, old-fashioned jealousy to account for.”
The music started, and they raised their hands to circle one another. “It’s
human nature.”

Bianca
wanted to call him a cynic, but she thought about her life thus far, and couldn’t
disagree with his observation. She was struggling to find a response, but he
saved her the need.

“One of the
benefits of age, your highness, is that you learn to see things as they are,
and not as you would have them be.”

“How is that
a benefit, if what you see is unhappy?”

“Ah!” He
smiled as he pivoted her out in a twirl and then back into line. “One of the
other benefits of age is learning to appreciate what is good, despite the bad
things. After all, the knowledge that not everyone here will adore you does not
erase the fact that, by a very large margin, most of them do.”

She smiled
up at him. “I suppose you’re right. That seems a useful skill.”

“It is.” His
eyes twinkled down at her. “It is the same skill that allows me to enjoy
dancing with you, when I very much doubt that I have any chance of being chosen
as your bridegroom.”

She cocked
her head. He didn’t sound upset, merely matter-of-fact. “Why do you say that?”

“When all is
said and done, your highness—”

“Please,”
she interrupted. “Call me Bianca.”

“Very well.”
He gave a little nod in thanks at her permission. “When all is said and done,
Bianca, a young woman would prefer to marry a young man, and there is no
shortage of them here to court you.”

“You might
be right.” Bianca saw no reason to prevaricate; Edicus didn’t seem perturbed by
what he was saying. “But a queen might prefer to marry a man who was wise and
experienced. Such a man would make a good king.”

He gave her
a considering look as they linked arms for a promenade. “You sound as though
you mean that.”

“I do.” She
was sincere. “I have made no decisions, except that if I am to marry for the
good of my kingdom, then that is precisely what I shall do. You could very well
be the right choice. Besides,” she smiled up at his handsome face, “you aren’t
entirely unappealing.”

He laughed,
and Bianca saw a number of women, young and old, take note with appraising
eyes.

The music
ended, and he turned to walk her off the floor towards Fain and Vivienne. “I
must confess, I wouldn’t mind if I was your choice. I think we might do well
together. But, even if I am not,” he said, bowing over her hand in farewell, “I
do hope we can be friends.”

“I should
like that very much, Lord Edicus.”

He brushed a
kiss across her wrist, and Bianca had to admit, it was pleasant. She watched
his broad, straight shoulders move off through the crowd, and thought she could
do worse than to marry him.

Vivienne,
her face glowing from the dance, whispered confidentially, “Well?”

“I don’t
know yet. But I do like him.”

A
neatly-attired, middle-aged woman dropped a curtsey directly in front of
Bianca. “Excuse me, your highness, but Prince Cansado was hoping he could make
his farewells, before he retired for the evening.”

Bianca
recognized the woman as the prince’s nurse, and she assumed they were well past
his royal highness’s bedtime.

“Of course,
lead the way.”

She followed
the nurse through the crowd, and found the poor little prince drooping in a
chair next to the punch bowl. Before the nurse could roust him out, she
crouched down before him, so their eyes were level.

“Thank you for
coming to the ball, your highness. I am sorry if we’ve worn you out.”

Cansado
blinked at her, and bobbed his head in miniature courtesy, but said nothing.
Bianca’s heart twinged; the little fellow was so very young, to be offered up
for a state marriage. She resolved, right then and there, that whoever she
chose it would not be this lad.

Bianca
looked around, spotted Billy, and waved him over. “Perhaps, tomorrow, I could
send my friend Master Notter to show you around the palace.” Cansado was
indifferent, until he caught sight of Billy. The page was just enough older to
seem like a fascinating companion. The nurse looked alarmed, but Bianca
hastened to reassure her. “Master Notter is Lord MacTíre and Princess Vivienne’s
special protege. He will know everything that a well-bred young boy might like
to do in the castle.”

Which, of
course, was basically what every other boy wanted to do. She had no doubt
before the day was over the two of them would be jumping out of the stable loft
into piles of hay. But the nurse didn’t need to know that.

When Cansado
nodded eagerly, Bianca considered the matter settled. “Excellent. Then I shall
bid you good evening. Expect to see Master Notter bright and early.”

The nurse
led the young prince away, with him glancing back over his shoulder to evaluate
his new playmate. Bianca looked at Billy.