“Lady Evagene Poclete, of Eagle Mount. Her grandmother was one of my ladies in waiting when I first married.”
Perri sat up straighter so she might see the woman more clearly. Lady Evagene’s gown an unusual colour but it did wonderous things for her creamy flawless skin and dark raven hair, currently twisted up in an elaborate arrangement. She had lovely dark eyes, and a way of sitting that displayed her figure to perfection, announcing she was confident in her beauty and skills.
“I hope the journey down from the Mount was not too tiresome or perilous?” Words were expected, and the Prince was nothing if not polite, observing the social niceties. His bland question should have deserved an equally bland answer.
Lady Evagene instead gifting him a rather intimate sensual smile, as if he’d just enquired what perfume she was wearing. “It was very pleasant, Your Highness. Thank you for your concern.” Her words husky and strangely breathy. Trying perhaps to imply that given their familial connections, Evagene had a personal history with the Prince already.
Meanwhile, the Prince’s attention had already returned to his Grandmother, prompting her with a silent look to continue the introductions.
“Miss Delish Kikmain, of Precet-by-the-sea.”
Perri winced on the tongue-tied girl’s behalf, as her mother, seated beside her, gave the girl a sharp elbow to the ribs, eliciting a squeaky high pitched greeting that brought a flood of colour to Miss Delish’s cheeks, matching almost perfectly the colour of her silk gown.
“I have visited your lovely town. I can highly recommend a swim in the ocean there.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I… I mean… thank you, Your Grace.” Another flood of colour entered the young lady’s cheeks.
“Lady Parkour Sensch of Green Vales.”
This young lady was all poise, rising gracefully from her seat and performing a curtsey so low and deep that the Prince had no choice but to observe her full and flawless bosom on display, thanks to the very low cut bodice of her pale green satin gown that matched her eyes to perfection. “Your Grace, it’s an honour.”
“That’s the sort of curtsey you should be aiming for.” Brandth whispered into Perri’s ear. “At the very least wear a dress like that and no one will complain if you get it wrong.”
“Hush.” Perri had missed the Prince’s response to Lady Parkour.
“Lady Tolbeth Intnal, of Intnal Wells.”
“It’s a pleasure, Your Highness.” The cheerful blonde enthused. “And may I introduce Sparkles?” Lady Tolbeth held up a tiny mop of a dog that had been sitting in her lap, all white shaggy curls, a big ribbon, matching the pastel yellow of her owner’s dress holding the hair out of its eyes. “Do you like dogs, Your Highness?”
“Yes.” What else could the Prince say. But it was the opening Tolbeth had been expecting.
“Then we have that in common. I take Sparkles with me everywhere. And being so tiny, she needs lots of walks. We’d be honoured if you would join us a time or two?”
“Miss Jacquene Hail, of Benslerra.”
Jacquene had taken a bold fashion path and chosen to wear bridal white. There was even a tiny veil crowning the top of her lustrous brown curls. Perri unsure whether the outfit was to give the Prince a picture aid, as to what his future bride might look like on the day, or just to remind him why they were all here and to cease all the dilly dallying and choose a wife already.
Either way, Jacquene, with her sparkling brown eyes, cupid bow mouth and milk maid complexion did look very pretty, if a little too – on the nose, with a hint of desperation – bridal for the initial meeting with the Prince. Or so the other candidates believed as more than one sent Miss Jacquene a pitying mocking look.
With surprising backbone and spirit, Miss Jacquene didn’t buckle under her peers’ censure, instead, she smiled widely and sent the Prince a sweet welcoming wave. “I look forward to bettering our acquaintance, Your Highness.”
The next two candidates were so busy glaring at each other that they barely acknowledged the Prince’s introduction. Both adorned in pastel blue.
The candidates failing to realise that the colour did neither of them any favours. Lady Niah Klow of Grand River’s dark skin washed out by the insipid colour. Whilst the matching gems woven into her dark long hair, falling to her waist in two intricate braids, were all but lost.
Lady Cannon Rawn of Spreenta faired a little better when it came to the colour suiting her complexion, even better it made her flaxen hair look rich and glossy. Unfortunately though, there was way too much of the dress. Layers and layers… and then even more layers. You couldn’t see her hands because the sleeves fell past her finger tips, the fabric producing a strange flapping sound every time she moved her arms. The sheer weight of all that material bowing her shoulders and making it look like she was sinking into her chair.
The next to last candidate was Miss Freer Barton, of Kirby Cliffs. Sitting in a shaft of sunlight the female all but glowed, her gown a soft gold, making her hazel eyes sparkle and her curled to perfection dark brown hair shine. She was beautiful, lifting her gaze from her needlework, a pretty smile lifting the edges of her mouth as she made eye contact with the Prince. Her expression mild, yet amusement lurked at the edges of her full lips as if she was secretly laughing at the events going on, and didn’t the Prince think it was all so silly too?
Lady Cecelia sent Miss Freer an approving imperious smile before lastly shifting her attention to Alia. Perri could see her hesitate. Did the Dowager-Queen not know who Alia was? She must have heard Talac… the Prince, refer to her name as he entered. Gods, did she intend to snub Alia, and thus obliterate all their plans in one fell swoop?
“Which leaves our last arrival, Lady Alia Gloomenthrall, of Gloomenthrall.”
Crossing her fingers, Perri prayed Alia would mind her manners and keep her mouth shut. Once this event was over there would be no need for Alia to interact with the Dowager-Queen… or even the Prince again. They would attend the parties, staying out of the limelight, hunt Regal down, reap justice, save Levi, and leave… as soon as possible. Never to darken the halls of the Palace again.
Just play along, Alia, please, Perri pleaded silently.
“An honour, Your Grace.” Alia nodded her head in acknowledgement of the Prince.
