Rebecca fastened a matching emerald necklace around Norah’s neck and added stringed jewels to her ears. “There. You’re beautiful.”
Norah found her reflection in the mirror again. Her loose tresses hung freely over her shoulders. Her high cheekbones were kissed with color under the bright blue of her eyes. She felt beautiful, and she couldn’t help a small smile.
“Are you ready?” Rebecca asked her.
She wasn’t ready, but she stepped out of the chamber and into the hall, where her guard was waiting. “Where’s my grandmother?” she asked them.
“The queen regent is in the great hall,” Titus said with a small bow of his head. “I’ll take you to her.”
“Is Alexander there?”
He briefly hesitated but nodded. “He is, Your Highness.”
A heat tinged her cheeks at her question, realizing it was probably obvious that Alexander lingered on her mind, but that was quickly forgotten as her thoughts turned to seeing him again. She followed Titus through the halls, down the stairs, and past the throne room, to where the great hall brimmed with music. She slowed when she saw Catherine walking toward her.
“Oh, my dear,” Catherine said with an approving smile, “you’re beautiful. Come, come. Everyone’s waiting. Now, this should ease you back into things. It’s quite informal. I’ll announce your arrival, and we’ll take our places at the front of the hall. Throughout the evening, I’ll announce any lords and ladies who wish to extend their congratulations so you can receive them. You may accept a dance, if invited. Don’t bother with food; you’ll need to speak. We’ll dine privately later.”
It seemed the opposite of informal, and Norah’s stomach rumbled at the mention of something to eat. She was hungry, and a mouthful of food seemed a perfectly acceptable explanation for not speaking to people, but she turned her attention to the night ahead. Her heart raced as she tried to remember everything her grandmother had run through.
Catherine herded her to the heavy oaken doors, and Norah drew in an uneasy breath as the captain she’d met earlier pulled them open. Paneled tapestries stretched from the ceiling to the walls and draped down to the floor. Hundreds of candles flamed brightly in the tiered chandeliers and corner candelabras. People filled the room, dressed in fine gowns and jewelry. Yes, so very informal.
“Welcome home, our Princess!” Catherine’s voice rang out, and it was met with deafening clapping. Norah followed Catherine’s lead to the front of the hall, with her guard and captain close behind.
“Be ready, my dear,” her grandmother whispered as they turned to face the room.
Almost immediately, an older man approached with a young woman beside him. He was the same height as Norah, with a moderate build and his graying-blond hair meticulously combed back. His embroidered doublet had cuffed shoulders, no doubt to augment his stature. Around his waist he wore a thin belt from which hung an even thinner sword. Norah wondered if the blade was even real. Her stomach knotted. Surely this was the worst part of being a princess—talking to people. People she didn’t know.
“Lord Allan,” Catherine greeted as he neared, “and Lady Evangeline.”
Evangeline. Her second cousin, whom her grandmother had warned her about. Norah had pictured her… differently—not at all like the warm face smiling back at her, the rose-colored cheeks beaming, the blue eyes shining. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen. She curtsied as the man next to her—Lord Allan, her father—bowed.
“Princess Norah,” he said, “we’re so happy for your safe return.”
She found herself doubting that, based on what her grandmother had told her and the stiffness radiating off him, which was very unlike his daughter beside him. The series of responses that Catherine had prepped her with evaded her mind. She glanced at her grandmother, who gave a prodding lift of her brow. “Um, thank you, Lord Allan. It’s… so great to be home.” She finished with a nod, hoping that was enough.
His lips smiled, but his eyes didn’t. “We’ll leave you to the evening. Welcome home, Princess Norah,” he said. He looked at Catherine. “Queen Regent.” He bowed again, and Evangeline curtsied beside him.
The exchange seemed mercifully short and surely more for onlooking eyes than anything else. Norah copied Catherine as she gave a nod. That was what she was supposed to do, right? Nod at a bow?
“Excellent,” Catherine whispered to her as Lord Allan and Evangeline departed. “Now smile.”
Norah forced her lips into a smile as her eyes swept the room. So many people, and not all of them happy about her return. And so many expectations. Her anxiousness grew.
“Here, have some wine,” Catherine said as she handed her a glass provided by a servant.
Yes. Wine. Norah took a long drink from the glass, and it was promptly refilled. She took in a breath, feeling a little better, and then drank deeply again.
“But perhaps not all the wine,” Catherine added as she pulled the glass from her hands. “And try to smile with your whole face, child.”
She did her best to put on a cheerful face as another well-wisher came forward to greet her. The wine threatened to come back up, but she swallowed it down. She just needed to make it through this evening.
She stood through what felt like eternity—smiling, nodding, thanking the warm welcomes. One after another they came, and just when she didn’t think she could bear it any longer, blue eyes met hers.
She stopped and smiled—a real smile this time.
“Queen Regent,” Alexander smartly greeted Catherine first, and her grandmother nodded. Then he turned to Norah. “Princess Norah. You seem to be managing the evening quite easily.”
That wasn’t how she would describe it, but none of that mattered.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
Catherine cast her a stiff glance.
“I’m really not hungry,” she told him.
He stepped up beside her, turning and looking out across the hall. “Now, I know that’s a lie,” he said quietly, so only she could hear.
She held back a smile. It was a lie. She’d wreck a garden for something to eat right now.
“This is about the time you’d tell me you’d wreck a garden for something to eat right now.”
Norah jerked her head to him, her eyes wide.
“Should I steal you something?” he asked, his eyes gleaming.
It was all she could do to keep from laughing.
“Norah,” Catherine scolded.
Right. She was here with a purpose. “I’m sorry, I…”
Her words dropped as a poignant melody filled the hall, and she stopped. She knew this song. Norah turned and stared at the string orchestra as they played the familiar tune. A wave of nostalgia rippled through her, leaving her light-headed.
“Are you all right?” Alexander asked, stepping forward and ever so lightly catching her arm.
Her mind blurred.
“Norah?” Catherine asked. Her voice was distant.
“I know this song,” she breathed. “I know this dance.”
Alexander leaned closer. “You remember ‘Allameade’？”
“Allameade.” Yes, that’s what it was called. She nodded and glanced at Catherine, who stared back at her, wide-eyed.