Even later, at the ball, her words rang through my mind. Left at the altar. That was not an option for me. Talk about public shame. Make that more public shame. After talking with the Queen, I had asked about Malcolm. The last time I saw him, he was in a police car, and I had been worried. My grandmother had informed me, he would be leaving and going back to his estate. I was sad about that and felt like I had lost my only friend. I had not pressed her for more information, but I had wanted to.
I looked around the crowded room again, hoping to see him so I could at least say goodbye until we met again. I wanted to walk around and look for him, but I was confined to the hip of my grandma, who had told me to take notes. I was taking them alright. Notes on how to be fake. She was pleasant and welcoming to everyone who approached her, but when they left, she spilled all the tea. She didn't like half of them and the ones she did like still had flaws in her eyes. Watching her, she kept all emotions in check. She was a pro.
I had only left her side to dance with Cornell, who was currently entertaining a circle of debutantes. They all had stars in their eyes looking at him as if holding their breaths for his next words. The dance tonight had been nothing like the practice session. Tonight, he was stiff and non-conversational. Once it was over, he had returned me to my grandma and swiftly walked away. The sour taste in my mouth had everything to do with his silent rejection. It hurt because deep down, I had thought of him as mine.
There was still a large part of me that didn't like him at all, but there was a bigger part that wanted him to like me at least a little. Especially if we have to be married. I was going to get the hang of this princess thing and I was going to master it and snag my prince, too. That would be hard with him not talking to me, but I think I could handle that. If only I could get away from my grandmother. I turned to her, prepared to address her, and remembered her earlier warning.
'I'm quite fond of the nickname you gave me. I've never had a nickname, however, in public you will address me as your highness. It is expected.'
Clearing my throat, I went for it. "Your Highness, I need to use the bathroom."
Queen Beatrice's eyes widened. They darted from side to side before she came to rest on me again. "Powder room, child. You need to use the powder room."
"Yes," I said slowly, "the powder room."
"You are excused," she murmured. "Don't get lost on your way there, or back."
I curtsied and made my escape. I knew the last thing I should be doing was, well-doing anything. But if I had to stand there mimicking my grandma and getting quietly yelled at every time I messed up, I would not make it. I hurried through the sea of people, who parted, like a road to let me through. Everyone smiled and bowed and curtsied, but I was not fooled. These people had been talking about me all night. Some discretely and some not so discrete.
I was feeling the weight of high society disgrace. It was not fun, because you couldn't grab a bitch up here and beat their ass. I had no one to vent or let out my frustration. I felt on display and alone. Even as I stuck out like a sore thumb in a bright red dress that hugged my curves like a glove. I looked good, but inside I felt horrible as if I were dying.
I made it to the 'powder room' which was full, but it quickly emptied as I walked in. I overheard one lady telling her daughter I would never fit in, and that I was a bad influence. I didn't spare her a glance as I walked into a stall and did what I had wanted to do all evening. I hid.
Sometime later, I exited the stall and washed my hands. I studied my face, noticing how much older I looked. It was as if I had aged five years in a few hours. Huffing, I mentally yelled at myself to stop the pity party and find my girl thongs and face the music. These were people of influence but as I had been told all night, a Duvall faces whatever the issue is, with our heads held high.
Exiting the powder room, I did just that. I stood for a moment, watching as everyone noticed me. They paused and parted like the red sea a beeline to my grandmother. Yet I didn't take a step. I allowed my eyes to meet some people who shunned me. I heald their eyes until they looked away. I knew I was not helping the situation, but I needed to somehow clarify that I was not to be fucked with. I would one day rule and if they crossed me, I would not forget their faces when my time came.
Satisfied that I would remember those faces. I took a single step, only to stop a tall form stepped into my path. I looked up into the sweet blue eyes of Cornell. His eyes were not as hard as they had been earlier. Instead, they held a little humor as he bowed and held out a hand.
"Princess Royal," he said, for my ears alone.
I nodded to him and he stood tall again. I realized I was holding my breath as I waited for what he would say. These would be the first words he had spoken to me all day.
"You want to get some fresh air?" he asked, a smile gracing that gorgeous face.
I released a sigh of relief as I felt the first real smile of the evening. "Yes."
This felt like a truce, one I was eager to have. For what it's worth, Prince Cornell was my second favorite person in LaCresha. As I placed my arm in his, I felt was less alone.