The Betrothed (The Betrothed #1) - Kiera Cass Page 0,42
his hips.
“Well, the tournament’s over. Quinten decided he’d rather rest than be insulted.”
“Oh, no. Your Majesty, I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head. “I know that boy was trying to do something clever, but he ended up causing a big mess.”
“This is so ridiculous! Whatever the color, wasn’t this meant to be entertainment? A diversion?”
“Yes, of course, but—”
“And doesn’t one person desperately seeking middle ground set a great example of something we should all aspire to? Why does everything have to be a competition?”
“Hollis!”
Jameson had never raised his voice to me before. I was stunned into silence.
“You don’t have to worry about this. You don’t have to think so hard. All you need to do is show Coroa how good a queen you can be. And upstage that girl of Quinten’s.”
I swallowed. “Surely considering how to better our relationship with the largest country on the continent is part of being a good queen.”
“I’ll do that, Hollis.” He shook his head. “That foolish boy. Let’s hope this can be undone.” He kissed my hand and went on his way.
I was left feeling small. Jameson had never been unhappy with me before. He’d never corrected me before. Then again, I’d never really shared my opinion before. Was . . . was Etan right? Was I an ornament?
I couldn’t bring myself to believe that. If I was to join a long line of magnificent queens, shouldn’t I be following in their footsteps? The footsteps that led to the homes of the poor? The footsteps that led to a battlefield?
I’d spent so much time being afraid of measuring up to them. Now the thought of not even trying to come close was unimaginable.
I marched over to where the competitors were milling about, hoping I’d be able to find a particular family in the mass of people. I pushed through the crowds until I, unfortunately, saw a familiar face.
“Etan!” I called.
He turned, and I waved, trying to get his attention. He tipped his head in acknowledgment.
“Where’s Silas?”
Sighing, he walked over and grabbed me from the swarm. “Do you not have eyes?”
“I’m not as tall as you. Is he all right?”
“Yes, Uncle Dashiell tucked him away near the tree line while things calmed down, and most everyone is going in the opposite direction now. Here, this way.”
I followed as best I could, trying to keep up with his long strides. We finally came upon them, Silas sitting on a barrel, talking to his parents with a bewildered expression on his face. Once he saw me, he stood and began attempting to atone for his mistakes immediately.
“Lady Hollis, I’m so sorry. You have to apologize to the king for me.”
“Slow down,” I insisted.
He took my hands, pleading. “If King Jameson revokes our permit to settle because of me . . . Hollis, my family.”
His hands were rough, but those blue eyes were so gentle.
“I know.” I sighed. “Please tell me you finished making the pieces I mentioned when we first heard about the king coming to visit.”
He nodded. “We stayed up late to make sure they were done before he came, but no one gave us instructions on when to present them.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I need to get a letter to Queen Valentina.”
Seventeen
I STOOD STILL AS DELIA Grace repeatedly laced the gown, trying to get it to sit right. “This is so strange,” she said. “How do your arms feel?”
“Heavy,” I admitted.
Delia Grace went back to the parcel and pulled out one more thing. “For your head. We can use something of yours if you prefer.”
Valentina’s things were quite beautiful. The craftsmanship was not nearly so detailed as the work done in Coroa, but the gemstones were bigger, more substantial.
“If she sent it, I will wear it.”
I walked around my apartments carrying books and acclimating to the weight of the sleeves and headpiece. In the middle of my seventh lap, Silas and Sullivan came in, dressed in their best and carrying their work on black pillows.
Sullivan fell behind his brother, taking in Nora and Delia Grace with trepidation. Though I longed to speak to Silas, I went to his brother first.
“These ladies are all my friends,” I said, placing a hand on his arm. “And tonight, you needn’t say a word. Only lift the pillow so King Jameson may take your gift.”
He nodded, giving me the tiniest of smiles.
“And what are you smirking about?” I asked, turning to Silas.
“Nothing. It’s just amazing to see you in Isolten blue. You could almost pass for a girl back home.”