Chapter Eight

“Why the heck did you tell her that you would dance with me?” I snapped to the prince as we waltzed across the marble flooring of the banquet hall.

Titus twirled me, causing the ridiculously wide skirt of my sapphire gown to open up like a flower. “I didn’t want to dance with Lady Rosa’s daughter. That’s all.”

“‘That’s all’? Considering everyone in the room is staring at us, I find it pretty hard to believe that’s all.” The vicious stares of the girls—also known as Titus’ admirers—continued to penetrate through my back. It felt like a thousand tiny needles were pricking anxiety into my spine. The women were stationed in groups of two or three, forming a menacing, yet scattered circle around me and the prince. A girl with a considerable amount of hair and frills waltzed past us, giving me a deadly glare. I shivered.

“What?” Titus asked good-naturedly as he dipped me. “You don’t like the attention?”

I glared at him from my position that was inches from the floor. The little twerp grinned at me. I scowled. “I hate you.”

“Hate is a strong word, Lannie,” Titus replied as he smoothly pulled me to my feet and twirled me again.

I felt like throwing up. My dancing skills rivaled that of a walrus, but, apparently, when you’re with someone who is an expert at dancing, they make you look like an expert when you’re actually not. I groaned as the room became a whirlpool. Just when I needed it, the tempo of the music changed to a slow beat, allowing me to rest. Titus put his hand on my waist and I set mine on his shoulder. “But really, why didn’t you want to dance with Mini Frilly?”

“Mini Frilly?” Titus’ brows wrinkled in confusion.

“Lady Rosa’s daughter.”

He chuckled in a nervous manner and shrugged. “I just didn’t want to.”

For the past couple of days, I had been watching Titus. Not watching as in stalking him, but simply observing his actions. The one thing that I had noticed was that he always tended to avoid any place that was occupied by females, especially if it was Clarice (but I figured he did that because he was genuinely fearful of her wrath). And he always acted odd around me, almost as if he were uncomfortable in my presence. Tonight’s situation with Mini Frilly finally proved my point: “You’re afraid of women, aren’t you?”

The prince’s eyes widened. “O—of course not!”

“You’re stuttering. Stuttering means lying.”

“It—” Titus stopped himself before regaining his composure. I continued to follow his footsteps as we danced. “No, it does  mean I’m lying. I just don’t like being women is all.”

“That’s the same as being afraid of them,” I pointed out. “Didn’t you tell me to experience the world? You’re going back on your own word.”

His face became red as I stared at him. I had proven a good point, and Titus was unable to defend himself. “Okay, I dislike women. Why is that so bad?”

I couldn’t keep myself from snorting. “That’s sexist, Your Highness. Why do you have such prejudice against women?”

“And why do have so much prejudice against Royals?”

I held my breath as he dipped me for the thousandth time. The world looked less like reality and more like a mirage when I responded, “I have a good reason for that.”

“Well, so do I,” he countered. “What’s yours?”

“You kicked my mother out after she served your family for eight years, Titus.”

“ kicked her out?” Titus was in disbelief. “Now you’re blaming me? It was Odelia’s fault. She was the one who convinced my mother. If Mother didn’t fire Helena, then Odelia would have left the castle.”

“And why would that be a bad thing?”

He looked at me like I was an idiot. “If Odelia left the castle, that would diminish the royal influence.” Titus sighed. “Odelia’s banquets bring people from other kingdoms together. Clarice and her mother are related to the royal family of Nor. It reassures the people to have a strong royal presence in the castle. Without the duchess, we’d lose much of the people’s faith in our ability to protect Aria.”

The music stopped and the couples dancing around us came to a halt. Titus released me, indicating his hand to the banquet tables. “They’re going to start the entertainment now.”

“Wait, I told you my reason. So what’s yours? Why do you dislike women?”

Titus paused, running a hand over his hair. The crowd was dispersing to their seats, and I could still feel the ominous glowers of Titus’ admirers encircling us. “They— I—” He stopped, lowering his voice. “I don’t know how to deal with them. You know how those girls act around me.” Titus jerked a meaningful thumb at the hovering groups of fanatical women. “Fawning over me and giggling like three-year-olds. They confuse me, so I avoid them.”

“Well, then you mustn’t them. You’re afraid of them.”

“I am afraid of women, Lannie.”

“Stop denying the truth,” I told him. “If you dislike women, why do you associate with me?”

It took Titus a while to answer. “Because you’re not like them,” he said finally. His answer was so sincere that it made my cheeks grow hot.

“.”

An impatient, yet respectful voice sounded from the balcony overlooking the garden. Dressed in an emerald ruffle gown that matched her eyes, Odelia Faretra gave Titus a meaningful look as she walked towards us. “The entertainment will be starting soon. You might want to take your place at the table.”

He nodded curtly. “Of course, Duchess Faretra.” Titus started for the tables where the guests were taking their seats, but halted and turned to me. “Would you like to sit by me?”

Part of me wanted to decline, but another part of me wanted to accept because there were a number of other people I could be seated next to. Namely, Fallon and Frilly. I shrugged. “Sure.”

The envious glares of the girls at the table were hot and threatening as I seated myself next to Titus on the far end of the table, near the wall. Clarice was on my right, talking animatedly with a young gentlemen. Odelia placed herself across from me, casting a suspicious glance in my direction. Philippa joined her, giving me a friendly smile as she sat down.

Fallon, unfortunately, was also sitting next to Odelia. The royal brat winked and gave me an arrogant grin. I was tempted to hurl a fork at his face, or at least stamp his foot, but was prevented from doing either by the servants who set covered platters of food before us.

I noticed the empty seat at the head of the table, the seat reserved for King Gavin. Titus didn’t seem to notice the seat as he removed the cover from his plate. Or was he trying to ignore the vacancy? I couldn’t tell.

The food before me lived up to the expectations of a royal meal. It was just how I had imagined it to be: fanciful in every way, with meats, bread, cheese, and wine. It was a ridiculous waste of supplies. There was no way I would be capable of consuming all of this food.