“Not at all,” she said. But her voice was strangely high. “I just didn’t expect to see so many people here.” Her eyes darted around the room.
Apollo couldn’t quite tell if she was merely nervous or if she was searching for someone. The latter shouldn’t have been possible, since she didn’t remember anyone . . . or she wasn’t supposed to.
In the distance, the minstrel began singing. His lyrics spoke of Apollo the Great and Jacks the Dreaded Soon to Be Deaded. “He’s a monster among men, a walking deadly sin. He’ll slaughter your children, steal your wife, let him too close and he’ll ruin your life.”
People nearby swayed to the sound of the tune, but Evangeline looked visibly uncomfortable. She had stopped searching the room with her eyes, and now Apollo wondered if she was just nervous about all the people.
He’d never thought his bride was shy, but he remembered she’d been anxious the day of their wedding.
“I wish tonight could have been more intimate, but the court all wanted to be here, and it’s important they know that we’re happy and well.” He removed his hand from the small of her back and laced his fingers with hers. “Don’t worry, just stay close to me tonight.”
He kept her at his side as they began greeting the guests one by one.
Apollo always hated this part. But Evangeline seemed to warm up as people greeted her with smiles and hugs, complimenting her on everything from the sound of her voice to the brightness of her cheeks and the rose-gold curls of her hair.
He wished the conversations were a little more inspired, but he supposed it could have been worse. It was during one of the conversations about her hair that Apollo stole away for just a minute to procure a goblet of wine. These things were much better with a drink in hand, although it seemed he’d picked the wrong moment to step away.
When he returned to his blushing bride, Evangeline was laughing at something Lord Byron Belleflower had said. Belleflower issued another quip and she laughed again, her smile wider than any Apollo had seen all night.
Bastard.
In the council meeting, Belleflower had practically called for her head. Now he was trying to charm her.
“It seems I can’t turn my back for a second,” said Apollo as he smoothly stole Evangeline’s hand and pulled her closer to his side.
“No need to feel threatened, Your Highness. I have no wish to steal away your wife. I was merely telling her some stories about the two of us as boys. I thought she could use some entertainment after the week she’s had.” Belleflower put a hand to his heart as he turned back to Evangeline. “I also wanted to say, I heard about your fall yesterday, Your Highness. I’m so glad you were found in time and that the guards responsible for endangering your life have been put down like the dogs they are.”
“Put . . . down?” Evangeline repeated. All the laughter vanished from her face as her gentle eyes went wide with alarm.
Apollo could have killed Belleflower then.
“I thought my guards were merely wanted for questioning?” she asked, turning to him.
“There’s no need to fret, my sweet,” replied Apollo with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I think our friend Lord Belleflower has been receiving his news from the scandal sheets. The only thing that has been put down tonight is the beast we’re having for dinner. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
He pulled Evangeline closer as he steered her away from the scheming Lord Belleflower.
But it seemed the damage was already done. The glimmer of light he’d seen before had left her eyes, and her fingers now felt cold in his.
Quickly Apollo stopped a servant passing out silver goblets of wine.
“Here, darling.” He grabbed a chalice and handed it to Evangeline. “I think it’s time we have a toast, don’t you?
“Friends!” Apollo called out loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “I fear that my court has forgotten how to celebrate. Much of what I’ve heard tonight are bland compliments and uninspired rumors. So let us lift our glasses to the glory of coming back from the dead and the magic of true love!”
Chapter 16
Evangeline
It was the sort of dinner party Evangeline had pictured when her mother had told her fairytales as a child—a beautiful ballroom full of charming people wearing dazzling things. And she was one of those people now. Dressed in a sparkling gown, on the arm of a prince—or she had been, until he’d raised his goblet to make a toast.
Apollo kept his wine high above his head as people gathered round and raised their goblets as well.
Evangeline did the same, although she didn’t feel much like drinking after hearing that Hansel and Victor were dead. They had seemed so kind, and it was still difficult to believe that they could have had anything to do with the attempt on her life. But that was one of the problems with having missing gaps of memory—it made so many things difficult to believe.
She tried to covertly look around the gathering of courtiers and guards in search of Archer. Earlier, she swore Apollo had caught her looking and had seemed to become a little upset, almost jealous.
Now he was occupied with his toasting, which gave her another chance to glance around the room. It was much like when she’d first entered—all glowing columns and elaborately dressed guests.
She didn’t glimpse anyone who looked like Archer as Apollo cried, “May all those in this room who seek true love find it, and may those who stand in its way be cursed!”
The crowd all clinked their goblets and cheered with Apollo. “To love and to curses!”
Evangeline lifted her goblet to her lips. But she couldn’t bring herself to drink. She understood toasting to love, but not to curses. It was disturbing that no one else seemed to feel the same way. The heady scent of wine filled the court as the partygoers drained their goblets and stained their lips.
And for just a second, Evangeline had a fleeting thought that if this was happily ever after, she was no longer sure she wanted it.
“You’re smart not to drink to a toast like that,” chimed a musical voice.
Evangeline turned slightly away from Apollo to find the source.
If she had thought her world to be strange moments ago, it was about to become even more peculiar.
The girl who came up beside her truly looked like a fairy princess from a fairytale, the sort in which people toasted to things like honor and valor instead of careless curses. She had a heart-shaped face, bright bottle-green eyes, and hair the shimmery color of violets.
With locks the color of rose gold, Evangeline was used to being the only girl in the room with unusual hair. She half expected to feel a small bolt of jealousy—but when this girl smiled, it was so incredibly sweet, Evangeline felt a sort of kinship instead.
“Did you know,” mused the violet-haired girl, “there’s an old Northern story that says you don’t need magical spells to enact a curse? It was believed that when the North first came into being, it was so full of magic that sometimes the word curse was enough to enact one—as long as the people who heard it believed what was being said.”
“Is that what you believe happened tonight?” asked Evangeline.
The girl sipped her goblet with a catlike smile. “I believe that magic fortunately died long ago. But I also believe anything is possible.” She winked. “I’m Aurora Vale, by the way, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”