My head snapped up in surprise.
His blue eyes twinkled. “Queen Bronwen is many things, but a good dancer is not one of them.”
I laughed as he spun me around. Everyone was so careful to give each other wide berth, avoiding wings brushing, and the expansive room certainly had the space for us all.
“You’re joking,” I said as I looked down, attempting to copy the movements of his feet.
I glanced back up, his face solemn, even though amusement shone in his eyes. “First time I ever danced with her, I had so many bruises, I was limping for a week.”
That made me laugh again. “How did you fall in love with the queen?”
His gaze sharpened.
“Sorry if that’s an inappropriate question.”
“No, it just took me by surprise. Not an interesting tale, I’m afraid. It was the first time we danced. Bronwen was from the streets, orphaned and without anything. I let her stay in the castle after she’d been injured by my guards in an accident. We’d had a chance to talk and visit daily. She made me laugh. She was smart. But more than that, we’d bothexperienced the loss of our parents and knew how deeply it cut. The night before she was going to leave, I asked her to dance. That was the tipping point. I knew she was it for me no matter what anyone might say.”
“When she stepped all over your feet?” I asked in disbelief.
His words were full of adoration. “She had a way about her, a confidence that she carried no matter what. She didn’t care that she couldn’t dance. She knew her strengths and she owned them. I liked that about her. I was so unsure of myself all the time, second-guessing everything. She never wavered in the right thing to do, the right move to make. She’s been the best queen, the best wife.” His steps faltered. “She would’ve made the very best mother.”
My hands grew clammy. I didn’t know how to respond to that. So much had been taken from them because of Gran.
His face sobered. “We haven’t spent a lot of time together over this last week. I’ll admit, it’s been my fault. You seem nice, Poppy.”
I noticed his use of my name, not the one he’d just used in front of the queen: Arabella.
“But I don’t trust you.”
His words were a slap to the face. “W-what?” I sputtered.
He swept me in a circle, grip tightening. “Do you know how many girls have come forward over the years claiming to be our daughter?” He continued before I could answer the question. “Twenty-four. Twenty-four girls. Twenty-four heartbreaks. Twenty-four times I had to console my wife because yet again she’d been duped. You have no idea the lengths these imposters went to. Some used elaborate wigs and makeup, spied on us to gain personal details, some had been raised for this role by their parents. Some even used dark magic to change their appearance to look more like our heir.”
That was horrifying.
He shook his head. “Now, you didn’t come to us of your own volition, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you somehow made yourself known, got the attention of our guards so they’d bring you to us. I’ve seen it all.”
A heavy stone settled in my stomach. “You don’t believe I’m your daughter?”
“As far as I’m concerned, I already have a daughter,” he said, nodding to Saestra, who was surrounded by a group of elementals, all ofthem doting over her while she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. “She has trained her entire life for this role. She deserves it. My wife seems to think you’re Arabella, and I can’t bear to watch her shed any more tears. So for now, I’m letting her live out this fantasy, but just know that I’m watching you. That I’m waiting for you to slip up, and you will. They always do. When that day comes, you’ll regret hurting my wife.”
The song ended, everyone stepping apart from their partners. I couldn’t move, frozen by the king’s accusation.
I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I would never do something like that, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t matter. He’d made up his mind about me already.
The king nodded. “Thank you for the dance, Poppy. Now I must attend to our guests—and your mother. She gets cranky if she’s not fed.” He winked and wove through the crowd, silver wings folded tight to his back. The band struck up another song, but all I wanted to do was crumple into a ball and cry.
“Well, you have a lot of explaining to do,” a voice said from behind me.
I whirled to see a blonde standing there, her blue mask dotted with gems, matching the blue gown that exposed her shoulders and collarbone, the sleeves long and puffy, the skirt hanging to the floor, simple and straight. She waved a thin paper fan at her flushed cheeks and used the other to pat her hair, which was pinned back with pearl-studded clasps. A delicate pearl necklace gleamed against her pale skin.
I sniffled, holding back my tears. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”
No wings, so she wasn’t someone I’d met this last week. But I didn’t know anyone else.
“I guess I do clean up rather nicely after being imprisoned.”
My eyes popped as recognition flooded me. “Emory.” I grabbed her arm and led her farther away from the crowd, down toward the doors. “What are you doing here? How did you escape?” I shot a wary glance around the room, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Are you worried about being caught?”
