As my dance with Damian finished and I moved to find my next partner, I passed Delilah heading for Damian. She wore an expression of elegant determination, though her complexion was a bit pale. I whispered briefly.
"Good luck. Don't let him dance with the girl again."
She nodded and I followed her with my gaze. Damian received her politely with a charming smile. The desperate longing in her eyes was well shielded, the pitiful hope in her smile carefully masked. In spite of knowing her as long as I did, I could barely see through.
What a shame. My poor friend was superior to Catherine in every aspect, but spending as much as Damian did with me and the other proper ladies perhaps made him tired of perfection. After all, the female lead was destined to leave a trail of ruin in her wake, not sparing a care in the world for side characters like the villainess's follower or the second male lead's best friend, or countless other broken hearts.
"May I have this dance, Lady Valentina?"
"Oh, certainly."
Yet it was my birthday, so at least for tonight, I wanted to forget my worries and enjoy myself. Now that I'd dealt with Damian, I did exactly that, dancing until all thoughts of the novel were left behind. No man could match the beauty of a male lead, but their company was another matter, and their deferential admiration was quite satisfying.
All the gentlemen wanted to dance with me, and all the ladies wanted to be me. I was the rightful center of attention, drawing eyes wherever I went, the shining jewel of high society. For the first time since the start of the novel, I felt serenely happy. This was the life I should be having, the life I would have for good once a few small obstacles were removed. With the world at my fingertips, it felt even that could be easily accomplished.
"Won't you escort me to the refreshment room? I need a drink."
The bells had tolled for midnight a while ago, but large balls like this one usually went on until dawn, and dancing was a wonderful exercise that demanded energy. In the refreshment room, I was delighted to find Annalise and Delilah there as well. With my thanks, my latest partner respectfully slipped away as I went to my friends. They were sitting around a small table with a bottle of spirit, a third empty, and a shot glass Delilah presently drained. Annalise grimaced.
"Really, Delilah, you shouldn't drink so much! It's not healthy."
"I'm fine, Annalise, don't fret so. Oh, hello, Valentina. You're of age, aren't you? Come have a shot with me."
Delilah's cheeks were rosy and her eyes unfocused, but she seemed more balanced than other nobles I'd seen who'd drank less. We were allowed to drink weaker alcohol like wine and champagne after debuting, but stronger types like spirits were only allowed for those above eighteen. My friends and I normally drank in moderation, but Delilah always drank heavily after dancing with Damian.
"Ah, sure."
Partly I felt responsible for my brother, and partly, I was curious to try spirit. Delilah waved over a servant and took a shot glass from his tray. She filled our glasses and raised hers.
"To you, our lovely Valentina. Happy birthday."
She downed hers in one sip. Slightly alarmed, but figuring that I ought to return the sentiment, I did too. The liquid burned my throat disagreeably and I coughed. Delilah laughed, more freely than her sober self ever would.
"How splendid, Valentina. Would you like another?"
"That's very generous of you, but no, thank you."
Delilah nodded nonchalantly and poured herself another shot.
"To all the men that'd be better off dead."
She drained it again and sat very still for a moment, breathing heavily. Then, slowly, she leaned towards Annalise and rested her head on her shoulder. Her eyelids drooped.
"You don't mind, Annalise? I'm… a little tired."
"Shh, it's all right. I get to say I told you so."
Delilah smiled peacefully as her eyes closed, and Annalise sighed. She glanced up at me.
"How are you feeling? That spirit even smells frightening."
"Not too horrible, actually. However, I think I'll go get some air."
Somewhat breathless and far too alive, I left the refreshment room and headed to the nearest balcony. I welcomed the cool air of the summer night, trying to calm the burning sensation running through my veins. Now that my throat was better, it didn't feel so bad. In fact, I liked how exuberant and vivacious I felt. It was almost similar to the rush of thrill that power gave me. I was happy. After everything I'd gone through so far, I deserved to be, even just for one night.
The story had already changed so much from the novel. My reputation was not that of an overly arrogant girl with nothing but her frail position as the future crown princess and without any real power of her own. I was the proud heir of House Avington, with all our resources ready at my command, and God's chosen saint. The villainess of the novel had been widely disliked in secret, with friends that betrayed her as soon as she fell. I had loyal allies and connections in every corner of society, carefully built up over the years so that my influence was everywhere.
"Are you all right, my lady?"
"Yes. But do come closer, Mikhail."
He came to stand by where I leaned against the railing of the balcony. My smile broadened freely as I noted once again how pretty he was and his expression of absolute devotion.
In the novel, Damian avoided Valentina out of disinterest, Oscar disliked her narcissistic personality, Nathaniel knew her only by her notorious reputation, and Mikhail was barely mentioned. Now, for better or for worse, Damian loved me, Oscar didn't treat me with open contempt and regarded me with perhaps so much as a bit of affection, Nathaniel was indebted to me, and Mikhail would follow me to hell and back.
On the marble railing, I snuck my hand towards Mikhail's. He looked at it and wouldn't meet my eyes when I glanced at his face, but he didn't move away. Our pinkies touched, but that was as far as I went.
"Do you like me?"
"Of course, my lady."
I nodded. I had always known that.
Yet not everything had gone to plan. Catherine's relationship with her uncle was unexpected and sorrowfully familiar. I was not up against the mere attraction of an unsophisticated girl, but a shrewd baron who may be allied with the royal family, though I had no proof. A cure for Damian was still up in the air, and Oscar didn't like me as much as I'd want him to.
"Go get me a glass of water."
"Yes, my lady."
Mikhail left and I watched him go. Though I liked his presence, I didn't want to do anything I'd regret. I gazed up at the brilliant night sky, twinkling with stars that had been hidden by city lights in my past life. The crescent moon shone with pale elegance, making the flowers blooming beneath in our garden all the more enchanting. A breeze lifted my hair, and music from the ballroom drifted faintly by. I smiled. What a romantic night, and no one to share it with.
I belonged to this world, and to this beautiful kingdom that would eventually be mine to rule. That was why a rebellion was my least favourite plan, reserved for only if worse came to worst and all else failed. History proved that mages as powerful as Damian often brought nations to ruin and destroyed themselves in the process, and I didn't have enough faith in my brother's self control to want to try. When I became queen, I wanted to make my kingdom strong.
Besides, after all these years of restraint, it'd be a shame to just throw everything away, especially the progress I'd made with one particular individual. My initial plan of simply not falling in love with Oscar had only worked in moderation, and though I'd managed to preserve my rationality, it wasn't entirely so with my heart.
"Valentina."
I swirled around to see Oscar standing in the doorway of the balcony, and I giggled because it was so like a novel for the male lead to appear when the female lead thought of him that I almost suspected it was a dream, where I could be the real heroine. He came towards me until he stood in front of me, and I could see my reflection in his breathtaking golden eyes. In private, we addressed each other without titles, and tonight, I was tired of courtesy.
"Hello, Oscar. I didn't know you cared enough to stay. I expected you'd have more important things to think about and do, like always."
"There isn't anything more important than you."
With those quietly spoken words that rang too loudly, he seemed completely serious. I laughed, wondering if he'd actually thought I'd believe that. For some reason, my heart beat faster, and the air felt oddly warm.
"Curious, given that you never pay attention to anything I say."
"I do. I'm sorry I never respond as I ought to. I'm afraid to lose control of myself, if I speak to you too much."
Ah, yes. Regardless of all these years we'd spent betrothed, he couldn't trust me, couldn't let his guard down for me. He shouldn't, since I was the villainess, the fake saint, the head of the corrupt nobles, and the one keeping him away from his destined love. Nevertheless, I'd never been anything less than a devoted fiancee to him, while he refused to let me in with such damned indifference.
"Then why are you here?"
"I was thinking of our earlier conversation, and I realized there may be a misunderstanding."
Oscar lifted a hand and caressed my cheek. He wasn't wearing gloves, and his touch was pleasantly cool against my flushed skin, sending a tantalizing spark through me. My voice came out as barely a whisper.
"Oh?"
His other hand lightly lifted my chin and I closed my eyes as I felt his lips softly brush against mine. He kissed me, gently but firmly, and I was lost. Warmth blossomed in my chest, spreading through me until my mind was blank and all I could feel was him. If I'd thought I'd ever felt happiness before, I'd been wrong. It could've lasted a second or an eternity, but it didn't matter as time stopped for us. I never wanted to let him go.
When he finally pulled away, I was satisfied to see a slight redness in his cheeks. It was good enough, for now. But for fuck's sake, I liked him, and as secure as my position may be, I cared about what he felt for me and I didn't want him to like Catherine. I'd admit it all if it meant he'd just tell me he felt the same. Words rushed out of me passionately.
"Why do you keep doing this to me? You tell me you like me and for a little it's perfectly romantic, and I can't be with you enough. Then you ignore me half the time and do things that make me question all of it. Why'd you want to go to Lady Catherine's debutante? Why'd you dance with her afterwards? Why'd you leave your banquet early to go and see her, without giving a damn about all the rumours? Isn't it all just because you like her? And why'd you run when the demons attacked us?"
For a very brief moment, I thought I saw pain in his eyes, but they quickly became shielded again. It may have been my imagination, but his voice sounded more sincere than usual, tired and raw.
"I'm sorry, Valentina. I never wanted to leave you, but Father forced me to go with him. And I don't know what the hell I feel about Lady Catherine, but all I know is that I like you and I want to be with you."
"Yet you're so inexplicably drawn to her."
"I don't care, and I promise it's not anything like what I feel for you. Please, trust me. One day, I'll marry you, and you'll be my queen."
I touched his hand, still holding my cheek. He probably knew his crown was the best temptation for me, so it was encouraging that he would nevertheless choose me over Catherine. My heart skipped contentedly, and I smiled a little.
"All right."
As long as my throne was secure, it wouldn't hurt to give him a chance. Perhaps it was what desperate fools did, but I chose to believe him. I hoped I wouldn't regret it, and with all the emotions I'd gotten out of him tonight, and the almost pleading note in his voice, I thought I wouldn't.
I thought, perhaps, we could be happy.