Chapter 9

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The faces of the people blur together. Shaking my head to clear it, I step forward and give the crowd a deep bow before straightening. I smooth the wrinkles in my dress and begin the introductions, my mother pushing me this way and that, to every person she deemed important in the room, which was pretty much all of them. 

By the twentieth one, I'm dying of boredom. I rub my temples with my gloves, drowning out the sound of Kernel Clarkson telling me about the wonders of the lumber we have in this kingdom. I desperately search for an excuse to move on to the next guest.  I rub my throat. 

Should I just go for it then?

"I'm not feeling particularly well this evening, would you excuse me for a moment?" I say, using my most ladylike voice possible. 

The Kernel's lips pull into a smile, showing the few teeth he has left. He bows. "Certainly."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and saunter toward the food table. Grabbing a glass from a waiter nearby, I gulp down whatever is in it. It burns my throat, but within moments my head clears. I weave past the guests, trying to make myself as discreet as possible. After a few more minutes of ducking trays and avoiding making an utter fool of myself, I reach the opposite end of the room. Leaning against the cool wall, I inhale and exhale deep breaths, which are difficult considering my corset is digging into my ribs, which are in turn pressing up against my lungs. I close my eyes for a moment before I feel a yank on my arm.

 "What are you doing all the way back here?!" my mother whisper-yells. Dressed in a tight and poofy yellow dress, white pumps, and a tall powdered wig, she looks every bit the concerned mother as she should. Not. 

Sighing, I straighten my posture. "I just need a break." 

She cups my elbow and pulls me back into the crowd. 

"There someone I want you to meet."

I let her pull me along until we reach an older man with white hair and deep wrinkles encircling his thin lips. He looks me up and down as I curtsey to him. My mother flashes him her porcelain pearly whites. 

"King Mason, this is my daughter. Have you met?" 

King? Of what Kingdom? 

He bows. "No, I haven't had the pleasure." 

Something about the way he smiles makes the contents of my stomach churn. I suppress a sigh of relief when his eyes move to something past me.

 "Son!" 

I gulp. 

He has a son too? I hope he's more pleasant than his- 

My eyes widen. It's the same young man from earlier. He saunters up to me and bows before taking my lace gloved hand and pressing his lips to it. His bright white hair falls into his baby blues.

 "Pleasure to meet you miss..." 

"Ariana, " I say once I've found my voice again.

 I clear my throat. "And you are?" 

With a dramatic sweep of his long coat, he says "Darien. Prince of the Pirates." 


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