A Cursed Gift

Chapter Two

"And now for the beloved Prince of our country, Prince Aaron Donahue, and his closest of friends, the lovely Celestia Sciarra!" The announcer's voice booms across the ballroom, amplified by a hidden microphone in his collar. I remember making Aaron tell the steward to change "his date" to "his closest of friends". I had felt awkward having that title, but I don't really mind anymore. Every other newspaper seems to proclaim: Celestia and Aaron, Dating At Last! and then the next headline would be: Aaron: "We're Just Friends". Quite frankly, I've been branded his girlfriend so many times, it doesn't faze me anymore.

Well, not since his soulmate hourglass ran out on a getaway trip to a fancy restaurant and he saw Annette and her seductive curvy figure.

Since then, I've just been called a fling and a scandal. I'm not exactly partial to magazines anymore.

Aaron whispers a quick "Here we go" in my ear before he pulls me into the grand room, lights and cameras flashing. Everywhere I look, I see floating light residue. It's quite annoying.

Arm in arm, Aaron and I march quite regally down to his parents, where we go to stand at their right side, the place of honor. I used to blush the first few times Aaron dragged me to these functions, but now I take it in stride. I'm used to paparazzi. Thankfully, I no longer live permanently with my family, so I can't be mobbed constantly like I used to be.

I stretch to my tiptoes to only reach his neck. It really aggravates me that he's taller than me. By far. I remember a time when I was taller than him, even though it was only by a few inches. That time only lasted a couple years, but the memories are still sweet.

Mercifully, he bends down to let me reach his ear. "How long is this going to be?" If I had to guess, it would be only about four hours, like most parties. But with the increased amount of attendance, I'm not entirely sure. Six hours at the most, but that's a stretch.

Aaron smiles devilishly. Oh no. "Eight hours. If I had to stamp a time on it."

I gape at him in horror. Eight hours? How about eight minutes? That would much more preferable. "And it didn't cross your mind to let me know that I'd be dancing and talking and flirting all night?" I whisper-yell at him.

"I figured it would smother your willingness to come." He looked almost sheepish.

"Damn right, it would have," I growl.

He chuckles under his breath.

"You heathen. Sei un mostro," I seethe through gritted teeth, my anger simmering beneath my skin.

He laughs louder than before, earning himself more than a few curious looks. The steward announces his younger sisters, the royal twins, Kiera and Emmaline. They begin their march down the aisle to take their place at the king and queen's left side.

He bends down to murmur something in my ear. "And what's this talk of flirting?"

"Hey, I know you're a guy and straight, but hello!" I whistle very unladylike, earning a few stares myself. I scan the crowd below us appreciatively.

"Well, you'll have all night," Aaron laughs. I'm tempted to hit him lightly, but I wasn't sure how the press would take that. A flirty move, I'm sure. Annette is a model, and highly respected, so I don't think they'd take it too well. I settle for an ice-cold glare instead.

   It has the opposite effect. He's laughing quite loudly now.

   "Che diamine non va in te?" I mumble under my breath. He has no idea what I said, as he doesn't speak Italian like I do, but he laughs harder anyway, his shoulders shaking violently. I shush him, worrying that he would whap me in the back of the head with his broad shoulders.

   It's not that I don't want to be seen as funny publicly, I just don't want him to seem informal at this particular function, as they had an apparent "important announcement". Which brought me to a question.

   "So what's the 'big news'?" I ask, feeling uncomfortable as people continued to stare at us. It occurs to me for the first time that, though I've done this countless times before, I'm on par with the royal family right now. I slip my hand discreetly into Aaron's in order to keep myself from floating away with this newfound realization and he squeezes it, ever my rock. I trust him with my life.

   "You'll see." I huff. I do a lot of huffing.

   "Do you at least know when it's going to be announced?" I ask impatiently. I tap my foot to the beat of the quiet orchestra in the corner.

   He tilted his face in my direction slightly. "Why?" he smirked. "Can't wait to dance?"

   He's going to feel it later when I step all over his toes when we dance. "Of course not. I can't wait to leave early and go to bed," I retort.

   "Oh, sure. You just can't wait to see my superior dancing skills," he says with a complete straight face. I can't help but let out a few giggles; he is the worst dancer I, scratch that, this palace had ever seen.

   "Buon Dio. Your superior dancing skills? When did that happen?" Dancing is the one thing he sucked at. I, on the other hand, am a fabulous dancer. "If anything you can't wait to see my superior dancing skills, amore," I say without a hint of modesty. "You know I—"

   I am interrupted rather rudely by the steward. He and I are going to have a word later.

   "Ladies and gentlemen, noblewomen and noblemen, please make room for our king and queen for the first dance. King Luther and Queen Amorella, take it away." He vows respectfully and turns the attention to the king and queen with a grand hand gesture.

The orchestra starts an upbeat song; or at least as upbeat as you can get a bunch of violins and harps. The king leads the queen across the dance floor, love and light shining in his eyes as he gazes at the queen. I look away, feeling as if I've intruded on an intimate moment.

They parade across the dance floor, and the song ends just minutes later. I always get nervous at this part.

   "And now for our next dance, Prince Aaron and Miss Celestia Sciarra," the steward calls.

   Aaron shifts his hand in mine to a more formal position and leads me to the dance floor, looking like an angel on earth.

There is a lot more Italian language in this. Buon Dios.
Translations:

Buon Dios- Good Lord

Amore- Love

che diamine non va in te?- What the hell is wrong with you?

Sei un mostro- You're a monster/You monster

   News: Elaine is still in Europe and can't write right now. I, Kate, am probably also going to write tomorrow's update too. And the day after that. And basically all the updates until she gets back. And, FYI, I will do my best to update daily. It will get easier when Elaine is able to write. As for you GOG&T readers, yes, I will still find time to update Saturday. And as for you BTG readers, Lainey will update when she's back.

   BTW: Both our individual stories on our individual accounts are our own works, and have next to no input from the other sibling, unlike this.

We love all our readers! 😘
— TheGoatTwins