In Chains - C. Noble (ebook reader ink TXT) 📗

it. He just smiled at her again.
They danced to music that was not playing for nearly an hour. In that time, Hadrian’s grip on her had tightened considerably from the first time they danced. He had taught her proper form and footwork, and like the fast study she was, could dance just as well if not better than he could. Madam Rosita would be shocked.
“Well, Princess,” Hadrian teased. “It’s nearly five. More guests will begin arriving in a few hours. I must withdraw to my chambers to prepare. I recommend that you do the same.” He winked at her before reluctantly dropping his hands from her waist and turning to unlock her door.
He paused with one of the heavy doors open and looked back. Darcey smiled and playfully shoved him out of her room. As soon as he left, Tania entered, flustered and antsy. She bolted to the elegant closet and hastily pulled out a ball gown that Darcey hadn’t noticed. It was very much like the red one she had seen an hour earlier except that this one was a bright gold strung with dark red ribbons trailing down the back of the skirt that rivaled the mountain path in length.
“Princess,” Tania gulped, “tonight is much more formal than last night. You will be required to wear this gown. If you will please stand over there…” the maid gestured to a soft velvet stood in front of three full length mirrors.
Darcey winced as Tania yanked a stiff corset around her waist and pulled it tighter and tighter. She could hardly draw her breath when her maid had finished. She had been cinched to a suffocating eighteen inches. It was intolerable. After a great deal of browbeating, Darcey had convinced Tania to give her an extra two inches’ breathing room. It was still uncomfortable, but it wasn’t killing her.
Acres of gold fabric were thrown over her head. The dress settled around her waist, fitting her perfectly. The skirt flounced down past her toes, heaping a good six inches of fabric on the floor. The top of the dress was tight against her corseted middle. It had no sleeves or straps, but was held up by the back of it, which was adorned in streaming red silk ribbons.
Tania took her mistress off the pedestal and sat her down at the nearby vanity table. She put her hair up in a modest pompadour, a style which accentuated Darcey’s finest features. Her long hair curled down her back. Several wisps around her ears frizzed and curled around her cheeks, and several obstinate strands banded together to fall across her forehead. Red plume feathers sat on the crown of her head, flouncing when she moved. They framed her high hair but did not appear overdone.
As a final preparation, Tania took out that gilded golden tiara garnished with diamonds and rubies. She gently nestled it on top of Darcey’s forehead, just allowing sight of her traditional headband.
Her makeup, hair, and clothes neatly done up, Darcey emerged from her dressing room every inch the princess. Tania opened up her heavy bedroom doors to show a handsomely done up Hadrian waiting to escort his betrothed to the ballroom. He smiled his brilliant smile when he saw her, a smile that did not cease even as he led her down the long hallways to the sparkling dining hall. They stopped at the entrance and bowed to everyone in attendance. Hadrian then lead Darcey to a pair of unoccupied seats where he pulled one out for her and waited her to be seated before he pushed it back in and took up the seat next to hers.
The other guests took their seats as Darcey’s parents stood up at the head of the table. Hadrian’s parents followed suit as the chatter died out. The four royals stood together in a line facing the crowds. Darcey looked back at Hadrian for support. He looked calmly nervous. He caught her gaze and held it as he reached out and squeezed her hand. Smiling faintly, Darcey turned her head back to her parents, although leaning considerably back toward Hadrian.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the second day of our celebrations,” her father began. “Before we begin the feast, we have an announcement to make.”
Darcey stole another look at Hadrian. A mixture of pride and severe embarrassment was coloring his handsome face.
“As you all know, our daughter, Princess Darcey, has returned to us. She has been here little more than a month, and already looks the part she was born to play,” her father gestured to his daughter, a wide grin on his face. He winked at her before continuing. “But very few, if any, of you know that while in her cradle a marriage had been planned with a member of the royal family from a neighboring island. Exactly one year, two days, you are all invited to the wedding of Princess Darcey Martinaque and Prince Hadrian Sanchez!”
The crowd all turned to stare at the young royals sitting next to each other. An explosion of applause ensued, and the deafening noise was only ended when King Sanchez cleared his heavy throat and abruptly slammed his fist down on the massive dining table in a rather uncivilized manner.
“Yes, yes, it is a wonderful occasion. Yet, we should not be celebrating a new love, but instead the unity of two great nations into one,” raising his large glass full of wine, he toasted Hadrian and Darcey. “May your efforts to preserve peace prove fruitful and your time as rulers be blessed. To the Prince and Princess!”
“To the Prince and Princess,” the crowd echoed as they raised their wine glasses with a clink. A long silence followed as their guests drank their wine.
A large army of waiters and chefs appeared bedecked with foods of all varieties. The elongated dining table’s gold gilded top was covered in all manner of beef and pork, vegetables and fruits. Jugs of wine and water sat at intervals between the chairs.
The feast was just as noisy an affair as the previous one had been. Royals and nobility shouted out their congratulations to the young pair across the dining hall. Nobody, however, spoke louder than King Sanchez himself. He boomed his every emotion, however minute it was. He had no scruples in planning his son’s future with Darcey loud enough for the hundred or so guests to hear every word.
A concerned look from Hadrian told her all she needed to know. He was gravely embarrassed of his father’s boisterous attitude. For the first time that evening, Darcey noticed the great amount of hair oil he had used to slick back his messy mane in an attempt to differentiate himself from his father. Darcey ran a hand up his arm. He flinched, but on realizing who it was, forced his lips into a dull smile. He was really out in space.
“Hey, don’t worry. Dinner will be over soon, and when the dancing begins we can go out to the gardens or something. We don’t have to stick around,” Darcey whispered without drawing the notice of anyone.
“No…you don’t understand. We’re expected to dance together. Every dance. We can’t just flit off somewhere. It wouldn’t be proper,” Hadrian quietly replied into her ear. He knew it would hurt her, but he just couldn’t leave. Leave and risk his father’s wrath.
As promised, dinner ended within the hour. Tipsy partygoers stumbled as gracefully as possible into the ballroom as the band struck up a soft waltz. As tradition dictated, the Martinaques started the dance followed shortly by the Sanchez’. Hadrian bowed low to Darcey and requested the pleasure of dancing with her once more. With a put on smile of shy embarrassment, she agreed. Flashing him a quick wink to dissipate the confused expression in his eyes, they took the floor with their parents.
For several minutes the three couples circled the floor, their superior dancing and well crafted clothing making them an intimidating act to follow. But follow many did, as soon as the first dance ended.
Darcey fought the urge to shift her hand from Hadrian’s shoulder to the back of his neck. From the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, she knew he was thinking a similar thing. She grinned at him and squeezed his shoulder. In response, he winked, flashed his brilliant trademark smile, and lowered his hand on her back. While not noticeable to spectators, Darcey could feel it and a fiery blush spread across her high cheekbones.
After several tangos, the slowest dance of the night began. Hadrian’s hand stayed where it was while Darcey finally got up the courage to move her hand from his shoulder to hug the back of the neck. Nobody notice this, and they went on dancing slowly together, every few steps drawing a little closer together.
When the song finally ended, they were so close that if Darcey took a deep breath, the lace on the bust of her dress would brush the lapels of Hadrian’s black suit jacket. Without drawing apart they turned to clap with the rest of the audience for the band. It had been the last song of the evening. It was nearly two in the morning. The guests began filing out of the ballroom to their waiting carriages that would take them to their villas and grand mansions where they would sleep past noon, waking only for water or coffee and nursing tender hangovers.
Hadrian’s arm, which had been encircling Darcey’s shoulders and pulling her close, slid down her arm and grabbed her hand. He led her quietly through the receding crowd and out onto the palace grounds. From there he scooped up her legs, covered in frothy lace and silk, and carried her down a long, familiar, yet abandoned hallway. Darcey wrapped her free arm around his neck, stifling a laugh.
He finally deposited her outside her bedroom door. Winking at her, he said, “I’ll be back in half an hour. Get changed, I wouldn’t want that lovely dress you’re wearing to get ruined.”
Darcey smiled, but had no idea what she was meant to change into. She decided on a red bikini and a golden skirt with flat sandals. She took her hair out of its arrangement herself and let it fall happily to just above her hips. She removed her tiara and placed it carefully in its velvet box. The dress which had been strewn across her massive bed was replaced in its proper place in the closet.
It hardly seemed that half an hour had passed, but there Hadrian was, leaning casually against her door. He wore a red and gold tunic with a golden cloak and hood. He looked her up and down before striding to her closet and rummaging around inside it until he found what he desired. He pulled out a long gold silk cloak with a generous hood edged in red ribbon. He gently wrapped it around her and fastened its gold clasp shut at her collarbone. He then flicked up her hood before doing the same to his.
Hadrian grabbed Darcey’s hand and led her out a passage that she had not been down. Before long the sweet smell of hay and horses met her nose. In one heart stopping moment, she could picture herself falling from the back of one of the beasts and breaking her neck. In the next, she saw herself and Hadrian riding side by side as their mounts ran gaily across a moonlit beach.
Hadrian looked back at her, excitement in his midnight eyes. The stabs of purple were illuminated in the moonlight. Darcey sucked in her breath and pushed forward through her invisible barrier of fear. Her wide doe eyes reflected her trust in him. Beaming, he led her toward a pair of snowy horses tacked up and ready to go. He lifted her with