The Betrothed (The Betrothed #1) - Kiera Cass Page 0,62
Delia Grace had supported and cared for me through every moment of the last ten years. She had a most precious place in my heart.
“So it’s time to let everything else go. And when Jameson proposes, I will marry. For love.”
Twenty-Three
“CROWNING DAY,” NORA SAID, BURSTING into the room later that same afternoon. “He’s proposing on Crowning Day, after the ceremony.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She nodded, crossing to Delia Grace. “Lord Warrington’s wife said her husband has been whining about it in private. She’s quite supportive of you, actually, but Lord Warrington thinks that Jameson should marry for international advantage.”
“Well, he’s in the minority now. Ever since that stunt with Valentina and the crowns, everyone’s started backing Hollis.” Delia Grace’s words were tinged with sadness, though nothing that sounded bitter. It was much easier to be around her now, knowing everything. “The sooner the king proposes, the better. Once you’re queen, no one in their right mind will oppose you,” she said to me, adding a tiny smile at the end.
Nora came over and grabbed my hands. “Congratulations,” she said, tilting her head.
“That’s very sweet, but maybe let’s wait for the actual ring.”
She laughed, then sighed, pulling her hands back. “So that’s two days away. We need to finally get the dance together, and put the finishing touches on your dress. . . . I wonder if the king will send more jewels for you.”
I turned back to the mirror as she went on with her list of wonders and concerns. I sat as Delia Grace brushed my hair out, neither of us quite able to muster any excitement.
“And one, two, three, turn!” Delia Grace called, spinning back to back with Nora. With all that we had to do for the recent visit from King Quinten, there was no time left to prepare for Crowning Day the way I would have in the past. In the end, the dance was mostly pieces from ones we already knew but arranged differently; not even Delia Grace, with all her skills, could combat time. Still, it would be pretty, and everyone was moving together so nicely. Scarlet was with me, turning to the bright sound of the violin.
“Are you having fun?” I asked, though her wide smile gave her away completely.
“I am. I miss many things about home,” she began. “The food, the scent of the air. But I do love that you all dance here almost nightly. Back in Isolte, we only dance on special days, for tournaments and things.”
“Well, you’re a Coroan now,” I said, touching her wrist to mine and walking in a circle. “We’ll have to catch you up on years and years of dancing. Though maybe Delia Grace would be a better instructor. She’s always been the superior dancer.”
Delia Grace gave us a thin smile before doing her next steps. “Not quite good enough,” she mumbled.
Scarlet looked at me with questioning eyes, but I just shook my head. It was far too much to explain, especially considering the role her brother played in it all.
We went through, step by step, making sure everyone knew the moves by heart; all eyes would be on us, so we couldn’t make a mistake.
Luckily for us, Scarlet was a natural. Though we had to go over steps multiple times for her to commit them to memory, when she performed them, there was an easy grace to the movements.
“So beautiful, Scarlet. You made me think you danced so rarely that you might struggle. The way you move your hands is particularly lovely.”
“Thank you,” she said as we moved. “Honestly, I think it may come from using a sword.”
“Your brother didn’t mention your skill with a sword,” I commented, still going through the steps. If he had, I would have remembered. I’d been working hard to banish Silas Eastoffe from my thoughts, but I couldn’t forget all our tiny moments together, all the things he’d said. If pressed, I could recall the entirety of our conversations.
“Practicing moving in a gown with a heavy piece of metal in your hand will make you light on your feet.”
I laughed. “I suppose. Come to think of it, Silas danced with me recently, and he did a wonderful job.” Stop talking about him, Hollis. It isn’t helping. “Perhaps it’s also a family trait.”
“Perhaps.” She spun around. “My family is very important to me. We’re all we have left now.”
There was something slightly accusatory in her tone. “That’s not true. You’re doing so well.”