Dark Castle (The Dazzling Court Book 1) Page 5

  “No?” I asked, turning to face her. “What are you going to do about it, Mother? Are you going to force me to marry a woman I don’t desire?”

  “I could,” she threatened in a low voice. She was trying to avoid a scene, just like always. “I could do as I damn pleased, Olivier! Do not forget, I am your Queen.”

  “And some queen you are,” I told her bitterly. “Forcing your own son into things he doesn’t want to be a part of. You keep reminding me of Father’s words, Mother, but maybe you should remember them, too. He wanted me to pick my own wife. Without your fucking meddling. Let me breathe, Mother. Or I’ll call this whole charade off.”

  This seemed to cool her jets, and I left her standing there as I went in search of Amber again. I felt her enraged eyes on me as I made my way through the room, ignoring the daggers she was shooting at me.

  Amber was my priority, but there were several other women who wanted a chance to speak to me, and I was soon pulled into their midst, showered with compliments and questions.

  Amber Jonathan was nowhere to be seen.

  5

  Amber

  I stared, astonished, as Olivier left with his mother.

  I knew that woman didn’t like me. Before even being introduced to her she’d written me off. If she had met me first and then decided to hate me, fine, but to let her prejudice get the better of her was rude and uncalled for. I deserved to be treated better, and the thought of her poisoning Olivier’s mind with the things she believed about me drove me mad.

  I turned to where Zara was standing, nervously twisting her fingers together. “Have you spoken to Olivier?”

  “I did, but I think he hated me. Oh God, I must have been so boring. I don’t want to get eliminated tonight…”

  “The elimination’s tonight?” I asked, chewing my bottom lip. A new habit, apparently. “And how many girls does he have to send home?”

  “Just one,” Zara replied, biting her thumbnail. “I’m sure he’s sending me home. I made such a bad impression. I should’ve picked a different dress…”

  “Why is this so important to you?” The question slipped out before I could stop myself, and she looked at me with eyes wide and wondering what the hell my problem was. “I’m sorry, I’m just curious. Have you met Olivier before?”

  “No, of course not,” she said, shaking her head and smoothing down the front of her dress. “Have you?”

  I dodged her question and fired another one at her, “But why do you want to be his wife if you don’t even know him?”

  “Well, how could I not?” she asked, a surprised laugh leaving her lips as if I were being silly. “He’s incredible. Rich, handsome… and he’s a prince. What more could you ask for?”

  “How did you find out about this?” I followed up with another question. “Who told you he was picking a fiancée? Were you formally invited?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “My parents received an invitation from the Luxurian court, and they allowed me to come here and pursue Olivier. What about you?”

  “Same,” I replied vaguely, not wanting to delve into the specifics.

  She’d find out soon enough it was all a lie. That I’d met Olivier before… even slept with him, for God’s sake. I had an unfair advantage in the game, and I didn’t want Zara to hate me because of it.

  I felt nervous around the girl, knowing I had a leg up on her. I wasn’t there to make friends, of course, but Zara had been the only girl who’d tried with me so far and I didn’t want to make enemies straight out of the gate.

  “Amber.”

  We both turned in the direction of the voice, Zara letting out a little gasp as her eyes found Olivier standing next to us. He looked dashing as ever, and I felt the traitorous blush creeping back into my cheeks.

  “Your Highness.” Zara curtsied, looking up at Olivier.

  “Can I steal you for a moment?” he asked me with that irresistible smile, turning to face Zara. “So sorry, we just left our conversation… unfinished.”

  “Of course,” Zara managed, blushing fiercely.

  Olivier took me by the arm, gently but firmly. He led me away while everybody watched, and I felt the eyes of every person in that ballroom following us out of the room.

  I followed him through the marble hallway and out into the gardens. They were gorgeous – the lush greenery accompanied with a heady floral scent that sent my head spinning. It felt like a special night, and it seemed as if the stars were shining just a little bit brighter, only for the two of us.

  Olivier seemed solemn, and my eyes zeroed in on his impatient form. It didn’t take away from his imposing presence though, and once again, I found myself marveling at his statuesque frame.

  “I’m sorry, chérie,” he said in a low growl, pacing before me as I stood with my back pressed against the wall, shivering against the sudden chill of the night. “I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

  “I understand,” I managed to get out. “I suppose it’s hard to follow your own needs and wants when your mother is the Queen.”

  “And that right there,” he said, stopping and smirking at me. “Is why I like you so much, Amber Jonathan. You can just read me like a book.”

  I smiled, more to myself than to him, my heart pounding in anticipation. I was eager to speak about something else, to have him touch me again, yet Olivier seemed to be focusing on the one woman that came between us – his mother.

  “She is the Queen,” he replied. “But that doesn’t give her free rein over my affairs. It’s hard to defy her though, especially in front of an audience like today. I’m sure you understand why I had to leave earlier.”

  “I suppose,” I muttered, and he gave me a questioning look, making me sigh out loud.

  Just because I was competing for him and needed to impress him, I wasn’t going to swallow my pride every step of the way. I wouldn’t let his mother walk all over me.

  “I just wish you could stand up to her, if only a little.”

  “Believe me, I’ve spent most of my life doing just that,” he muttered, running a hand through his tousled golden curls. “But I learned my lesson, Amber. I need to be a better man, not just for my family, but for my country, too.”

  I sympathized with the sentiment, but still thought he let his mother control him too much. I was pretty sure the whole selection thing had been her idea in the first place.

  “Olivier…” I whispered, and he turned his eyes to mine. I saw the silent fire raging in his gaze, and he outstretched a hand, gently running it over my cheek. When his fingertips connected with mine, I felt cool fire raging under my skin, like a cold burn. I was eager for more. But first, I needed to ask the question that had been on my mind since the beginning.

  “Why didn’t you just pick me?”

  His eyes were on mine, and I got nervous, babbling to get the rest of my explanation out.

  “I understand wanting to follow traditions, but we had such an amazing night together…” I whispered. “I thought it meant more to you.”

  “Amber,” he said gently. “I told you that night it could only be a night that we shared together. A memory. Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you here?”

  I blushed fiercely.

  “No need to remind me of just how unimportant I am,” I bit out.

  “Amber.” His tone held a warning that I refused to heed.

  “No,” I said, fighting the wobble of my bottom lip. “I know what you’re trying to say. I’m not worthy of a prince, am I? You think I’m worth less just because of my past. Your mother obviously wants you to pick that woman. Stephanie.”

  Jealousy turned my stomach around and I turned my face to the side, eager to hide the treacherous tears making their way into my eyes. God, I hated myself for being such a jealous little girl. I wanted to show him how independent I was. Show him some of my qualities to distract him from the fact that I was from a poor family. And I was failing miserably.

  “Well, who says I will pick Stephanie?�
�� His eyebrows knitted together. “You don’t know who I’ll pick.”

  “That’s the problem!” I cried out, shaking my head in despair. “How am I supposed to compete with these girls? This isn’t normal, Olivier! Love isn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “Love?” he repeated, smirking at me. “Who says we love each other, chérie?”

  My bottom lip trembled. I was really going to cry.

  “This is a game,” he told me, his tone softening when he saw the effect he was having on me. “You’ll do well to remember that.”

  I felt the pressure in my chest rising, constricting my breathing and making anger flow through me.

  He didn’t get to treat me like this. I was supposed to be the favorite!

  “God. You don’t care about me at all, do you?” I hissed.

  His lips tightened into a thin line and I felt the first traitorous tear slip down my cheek. Then, before I had a chance to run off, he’d grabbed me by the arm and pulled me against him. I could feel the signet ring on his hand cutting into my skin, but I welcomed the sting.

  His closeness was doing things to my body, making it respond even when I was eager to stop him. But I couldn’t. The man had an effect on me like no one else. While my mind wanted to defy him, my body was keen to please his.

  His lips found mine in a kiss, setting out to prove just how wrong I really was. I melted into his embrace, and he took my mouth savagely but in a way that made me feel protected, like I was the only one that mattered, and he, the only one who could hurt me. His tongue explored the inside of my mouth, gently pushing against mine in a game of testing my limits.

  Finally, he pulled back, smirking at me. The gesture made him even more ridiculously attractive, which made me sigh out loud in exasperation.

  “I want to hate you,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. But he heard me, laughing out loud and shaking his head.

  “I bet you do, chérie. Such a different girl tonight than you were six months ago… I’m excited to learn more about you.”

  His fingers wandered up my arm, up, up and up until they touched the hollow at the base of my throat, running his fingertips over the empty gold collar around my neck.

  “I bet you’d like to see this fill up with stones,” he muttered in my ear, and I hated myself for responding to his wicked games.

  “I doubt you’re able to fight this magnetism between us, or are you going to surprise me by packing your bags the first night?” he asked me with raised eyebrows, not giving me a chance to respond.

  His hand left my neck, and I felt the loss of it like a punch to the stomach.

  “I don’t think you’ll give up that easily. And I love toying with you too much to let you walk out. Come on, we’re going back. The elimination’s going to start any second now, we can’t miss it.”

  His fingers wrapped possessively around my arm, lightly guiding me back to the house. When we came into view of the other guests, he let go of me, grinning mischievously and pressing a finger against his lips to remind me to keep our secret kiss just between us.

  I nodded and followed him inside, lingering just behind him. I could still feel the touch of his lips, and I licked my own, relishing the taste of him.

  Moments after arriving back inside, Olivier was swept up by the sea of guests and women, each one of them demanding his attention.

  I was left on my own, and I tried not to let it get to me, though I missed him standing by me as I made my way back into the hall.

  Conflicting feelings raged through my mind, making me dig my nails into the palms of my hands, feeling the scars I’d had for years and wishing I could open them up again.

  I stopped myself in time, refusing to think about the night I’d gotten them.

  How could I let him do this to me? I had a clear goal in mind when I came to Luxuria. I needed his money. Falling in love with him wasn’t part of the plan, yet I already felt the unmistakable pull he had on me.

  “There you are!”

  I turned around to find Zara, whose attractive face was lit up by a big smile, illuminated by the candlelight in the expansive ballroom.

  “You need to tell me everything that happened,” she gushed, and her enthusiasm got the better of me, making me grin in response. “What happened with the Prince?”

  “We just talked for a while,” I told her in hushed tones.

  “You’re definitely not going home tonight,” she groaned, and I silently agreed with her, though the quiet fear that Olivier might be forced to get rid of me still made my stomach tie up in knots. “But I might go. He didn’t like me that much. God, why do I have to be so boring?”

  “You’re not boring,” I told her firmly. “And if Olivier can’t see that, then he’s a damn fool.”

  She giggled, giving me an astonished look and saying, “Boy, you really don’t mince your words.”

  “What’s the point?” I shrugged. “I am who I am. It’s better he finds that out now than further down the line. And if he still likes me, good. If he doesn’t, he never deserved me anyway.”

  Zara looked at me with newfound respect, nodding furiously when we were interrupted by the sound of light instrumental music. The elimination process was beginning.

  Self-consciously, I touched my fingers to the collar around my throat, feeling the empty spots where jewels would be added if I made it long enough through the competition.

  I hoped Olivier believed in our connection enough to keep me around.

  All of us gathered in the hall, with the thirteen of us girls standing in the center.

  He stood at the right end of the banquet hall. There was a small table next to him with a metal tray, filled with rose quartz stones that I assumed would be placed in the chosen girls’ collars.

  Everything would be decided in the next few minutes, and my heart hammered in my chest. I was certain he would pick me, but doubt was getting the better of me.

  What if he changes his mind?

  Zara had told me he’d spoken to Freya earlier. Would he pick her over me?

  Olivier took a deep breath and called out the first name while my fingernails dug into the palms of my hands, eliciting a gasp of pain.

  “Amber.”

  A smile lit up my face and I stepped forward while the crowd muttered. My heart had slowed down, and now a triumphant glow warmed me right from the inside.

  He’s picked me! I thought to myself ecstatically. Me, the Westminster nobody, over all the other girls.

  I walked right up to him, holding my head high.

  “Will you let me place this stone in your collar, Amber?” he asked in that deep gravelly voice.

  “Of course,” I whispered.

  He grinned at me as he took one of the stones, gently touching my neck while he placed the stone in its spot. I was shivering, trembling on the edge as his fingers brushed my skin.

  My panties were wet, and I craved for him to do so much more than just touch my neck. I wanted him to grab me, kiss me in front of all those people. But at the same time, I understood why he couldn’t do that. He was the crown prince, after all.

  Something passed between us while we were standing up there, barely detectible yet obvious to every single person in that ballroom. I could feel waves of displeasure coming from his mother, who was standing a little off to the side. The rest of the crowd seemed as enchanted as I was.

  He showed me to the side and I hung my head, unable to hold his gaze for another second as I moved to stand with the Queen. I could feel her eyes, staring at me with a burning intensity.

  She didn’t like me one bit, it was obvious now. I would try to convince her I wasn’t some floozy out to get her son, but I had a feeling I’d have to do a lot of convincing.

  I turned my attention back to the other girls while Olivier called out another name.

  “Freya.”

  Jealousy bubbled in the pit of my stomach as the willowy blonde stepped forward, shooting me a triumphant glance.

  I hate her, I t
hought.

  I watched Olivier placing the rose quartz on her collar and tried to remain as calm as possible, but my stomach was twisted into knots with anger. When Freya was done, she came to stand next to me, purposefully bumping her shoulder into mine.

  The next girl he called forward was Camellia, a young Italian girl I’d only exchanged a few words with.

  Two sisters followed, French girls whom I knew as the daughters of a lord.

  Then Monica, a gorgeous model, Violetta, a Spanish beauty, and Kendy, a stunning African princess who carried herself with dignity none of the others had.

  My eyes connected with Zara’s from across the room. I could tell she was nervous, and I offered her a reassuring smile. I hoped she’d be chosen. I’d already grown fond of her.

  Olivier picked Safiya next. I’d spoken to Safiya a little, and learned she was a scholar who was intrigued by mysteries and art.

  After her, he picked Eva, a girl with similar hair to mine, red as a flame.

  Now, only three girls remained. The tension in the room was palpable.

  One was Asya, a stunningly beautiful Turkish royal who wore a sad expression every time I looked at her, but it didn’t deter from her breathtaking beauty.

  The next was Stephanie, the girl the Queen had wanted Olivier to meet. It was a wonder he hadn’t called her yet. She was very obviously the Queen’s favorite, and he was pretty much forced to move her on to the next stage of the competition or risk upsetting his mother.

  And then of course, Zara, whom I wanted to move forward most of all.

  “Asya,” Olivier said, and the Turkish girl stepped forward, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

  It was the first time I’d seen her smile, and I realized just how much competition she would be. She was beautiful when she was sad, but when she smiled, her eyes lit up like nothing else.

  Olivier seemed to notice it too and whispered something in her ear as he placed the stone on her collar. She giggled, and jealousy twisted a knife in my stomach.

  My nerves were getting the better of me. I was starting to doubt not only Olivier’s affection for me, but my own confidence.