The Thing About Engagement Parties
The thing about engagement parties was, they were completely unnecessary.
Once again, Auden had resisted a lavish and expensive celebration after an equally lavish and expensive engagement parade, and once again she was overruled by Queen Amantia's icy stare and iron will. So, there she stood, fiddling with the sweetheart neckline of her gown as she waited for her cue to enter the ballroom filled with people she had never met and would likely never see again.
At least Auden was not alone in this particular brand of suffering. Dorian stood by her side, dressed to the nines in formal regalia. A sash pulled across his chest weighted down by gleaming medals. He was too young to have earned the bars and brass the traditional way; no one had gone to war in their lifetime, and so the medals were purely ceremonial. Still, he looked the part of heir: hair slicked back, glasses traded in favor of the contact lenses he hated, golden coronet atop his head. So unlike the scholar she had grown so fond of, yet still her Dorian.
The longer she stood in the hall, the more anxious Auden became. Everyone was waiting on Queen Amantia, guests included. Auden could hear the loud, restless voices filtering through the heavy double doors. Everyone was anxious to see if the reclusive queen would actually show up; apparently she had refused to be seen in public since Dorian was a child, the parade a rare exception. Now, a ball - correction, a state dinner. Auden couldn't distinguish the difference if said dinner was also to include formalwear and dancing - was held for the first time in a decade? With an exotic princess as its honoree? The rumor mill had enough to feast on for months.
Just as the clocks were about to strike eight, Queen Amantia emerged from the end of the hall followed by a trail of servants: two to carry her train, one to fan her as she walked, and another to whisper in her ear. That wasn't even counting the security that flanked her like silent shadows. For a woman who prized her privacy, she did not mind the company of servants. Or perhaps it was just Auden's company she despised.
The Queen did not greet her son, nor Auden, as she separated the couple, situating herself in the middle of the doors. She stared straight ahead and waited as one of the guards muttered into an earpiece.
Then, the doors swung outward to a fanfare of horns.
"Presenting Her Esteemed Majesty, Dona Amantia Viktoria Friederike Luise Feodora von Hohenzollern, Queen of Portugal."
Such a strong German name, Auden thought with a slight cringe at the way the announcer's mouth curled into a frown around the harsh sounds. So out of place.
Yet, despite being a stranger in a land she had lived in longer than her own, she kept forging a path ahead, giving no mind to those who subtly glared at her behind fans and gloved hands. There was a certain amount of untouchability that came with being queen. No matter how sour the face or outdated the gown, no one could knock that golden jeweled crown off Queen Amantia's head.
"Presenting His Royal Highness, Don Dorian Rafael Xavier Francisco de Assis, Prince of Portugal, and his fiancée, Her Royal Highness, Auden Marie Schreave, Princess of Illéa."
Auden tried to restrain her shock at the realization that, out of all the things she'd studied and all the language she tried to absorb, she had forgotten one very simple thing: her future husband's full name. It was strange to hear aloud, but it felt right, if not a little too regal for such an unassuming prince. Dorian straightened his shoulders and raised his head high under the weight of his golden coronet, and Auden tried to follow suit.
As she descended the stairs, the train of her midnight blue gown fell softly behind her in a wave of tulle. Goosebumps prickled on her exposed shoulders, cold despite the heat of a thousand eyes.
"They're all staring at me."
And not in a good way, she didn't add. She didn't have to. Anyone could tell that the sideways glances, the snickers tossed her way yet poorly hidden behind gloved hands and fans, and the backs turned as she passed all added up to one conclusion: spectacle.
Dorian reached down and subtly grabbed Auden's hand, giving it a light squeeze. Though he didn't dare look her way or engage in conversation while the whole world stopped and stared, he did what he could to support her, and it was enough. Auden clung to that hand like a lifeline, all the way to the foot of the dais where Queen Amantia sat imperiously on her throne. There, Auden sunk down into the deepest curtsy of her life while Dorian bowed just as deeply at the waist. She didn't dare look up and meet Queen Amantia's eye. The queen's stare was heavy, full of fire and ice and contempt, and yet Auden knew the exact moment when she yielded, nodding her tiny brunette head to allow them to rise.
The music resumed, formalities over...for now.
Immediately, Auden and Dorian were separated - Dorian pulled in one direction and Auden in another by none other than Governor Ermani.
"Your Highness, there are some people you should like to meet."
His grip on her arm was firm, leaving no room to turn and seek out Dorian. Auden knew that this engagement party was, at its core, a networking event as much as it was a celebration, but she thought she would at least get to face the masses with her fiancé.
"May I introduce the Dona Mariana DeSouza, Marchioness of Lisbon, and her daughter, Dona Luísa."
"A pleasure," Auden said politely, and both ladies inclined their heads towards her in respect.
Neither woman made any attempt to further conversation, the elder cooling herself with the intricate lace fan in her right hand, while the younger stared pointedly away from Auden, studying the crowd as if anything was more interesting and enjoyable then her company. Sensing the tension, Governor Ermani steered Auden toward the woman to their left.
"And the Countess Rafaela Santiago. The Count recently secured a large business deal trading out of the Strait. They are key players in the House of Lords." Governor Ermani smiled wider, allowing the Countess to bask in his praise. "How is your son, My Lady?"
"Very well, thank you My Lord." She dipped into a short curtsey, and Auden wondered how her neck did not snap under the weight of her massive beehive. When she rose, she placed a hand on her breast, a look of concern on her overly-made up face. "My daughter, Catarina, on the other hand...well, I thought she was destined for marriage this year. Apparently, she was beaten to the punch. Quite heartbroken, the poor thing." She turned to Auden for the first time, eyeing first the engagement ring and then the rest of her. "Not that you can understand that, Your Highness, while you coast on the wings of love."
Auden reared back. "I'm sorry, I don't understand your meaning."
"Forgive me, Your Highness, it is just...well... we ladies always assumed that His Highness would pick one of our lovely daughters to be his wife." She gestured to Dona Luísa, her pinched face pulled into a display of dispassionate heartache. Dona Luísa would not deign to look in Auden's direction, her gaze still focused on the wall beside her in perfect defiance. The Countess reached out and patted Auden's hand, though they were just shy of touching. "Not to speak ill of your family's pedigree, but, well...you are so Illéan."
Offense rose in Auden quick as a match to gasoline.
"Dorian is allowed to marry whomever he chooses, and he chose me."
"Perhaps," the Countess said with a flippant shrug, clearly unbothered about offending anyone. "But I have heard that your country paid ours a lot of money for this wedding to go through. A transaction, simply put." She flicked a spec off the cuff of her glove. "Arrangements can be made, and arrangements can be broken. Standing in front of you now, I have hope for my Catarina yet."
For a moment, Auden stood dumbstruck. How was she supposed to reply to that? How was she supposed to smile through such an insult?
Governor Ermani made no move to intervene, or check the Countess. In fact, he had all but disappeared back into the crowd, leaving Auden to flounder, knowing she could not fend for herself.
The longer she remained silent, the wider and crueler the Countess' smile grew. And when she looked over her shoulder and laughed through something in Portuguese over to Lady DeSouza, Auden knew it was about her. The Countess didn't even have to hide her mouth behind gloved hands to talk behind Auden's back, because Auden didn't know the language and everyone knew.
She was an outsider. Unwanted. Unloved.
An arm at her waist drew Auden out of her spiraling thoughts.
"Let us dance!" Dorian suggested abruptly, pulling Auden gently away from the circle of harpies. "Shall we?"
Auden took Dorian's arm, grateful for the rescue. Those women were horrible. She didn't know if she would have been able to stand their company much longer. It would be rude to take off in such a sudden manner, even ruder not to return to the group once the dance was over, but Auden didn't care. She didn't care if those women thought ill of her or called her crass or Illéan. They weren't the kind of company she planned on keeping.
The orchestra strummed up a waltz and Auden and Dorian slipped naturally in time to the rhythm. The hand on her waist kept her close, the broad expanse of Dorian's palm grounding Auden, keeping her from spinning away.
"Terrible women," Dorian tutted and shook his head, looking ever so reticent. "I am sorry for what they said. They are...crueler than normal. I do not know why my mother keeps them around."
"Have they said terrible things to you, too?"
Dorian kept quiet. His gaze skittered to the side. Ah, so he was not familiar with this unique brand of torture. Most likely they kept their mouths shut as not to offend the Queen. That consideration was not extended to Auden, apparently.
"They have daughters my age. I was introduced to many last year."
There was only one reason a royal of their age would be introduced to so many strangers at a party.
"Your mother tried to set you up."
"Yes."
Spurned dreams would be enough to earn Auden the social status of Public Enemy Number One. She did hope that, eventually, wounds would heal. It wasn't like there was a drought of high-ranking, rich young men for their daughters to marry. Auden smelled more money in this room than she ever had at a party back home.
"None of them interested you?"
Dorian's ears burned a bright red.
"Most had the misfortune of taking after their mothers. And not one of them had an appreciation for poetry," he said. Auden stifled a laugh. Even when he was being rude, Dorian couldn't help but be polite. "Mother was...very upset I did not choose one of the court ladies. She said it was a blessing to be able to choose a wife instead of have one chosen for me."
There was logic to that. Most people this day and age would run at the idea of an arranged marriage. She couldn't think of a single other person who would say yes to the situation she put herself in. And yet...
"Your parents had an arranged marriage."
"They did, and they were very happy." Dorian spun Auden in a perfect circle. When she spun back in, she fell gently against Dorian's chest. "That is why I have such high hopes for ours."
Auden harbored hopes as well, secret ones that she dared not voice. She wasn't superstitious, but things were going surprisingly well despite the drama with Queen Amantia, and the court, and the Governor. She kept waiting for Dorian to change, for the other shoe to drop, for her heart to stop falling endlessly for her Prince. But he kept surprising her, kept being the sweetest, gentlest, most genuine person she ever met.
It was impossible for someone to be perfect. She had only known Dorian for a short time. There was bound to be something wrong at some point. She just couldn't think of a reason to care when Dorian had her in his arms.
"Does your mother ever dance?"
"She will dance with Governor Ermani," Dorian said, glancing towards where Queen Amantia sat stiff-backed and bored on her throne. She had a glass of champagne in her her hand, looking quite miserable as she sipped. "Otherwise, no. She does not dance, not since my father passed."
"Strange then, that she would offer to host a ball."
"It has been years since there was a ball. If it were up to her, she would close the palace doors forever." Dorian said this as if he were joking, but Auden knew there was some shred of truth to it. Queen Amantia looked painfully out of place for someone so young; it hurt to watch her struggle. Dorian did not seem concerned, leaning in closer to say, "She knows how important it is that we have a proper engagement party."
Auden looked down at the ring on her finger, unique and sparkling under the chandelier lights. She loved her ring almost as much as what it meant.
The song ended. The dancing stopped. Auden felt like she and Dorian were the only two people in the world.
Then, she make the mistake of looking around the ballroom.
Jealous stares everywhere. Everyone's eyes were on she and Dorian, and the response to their happiness, to their first dance as an engaged couple, was unabashed jealousy.
Couples cleared the dance floor, making way for new couples and new songs. Auden wanted to dance again, and again, and again. Only with Dorian, so that they might escape back into their bubble where everything was happiness and light. But that was not meant to be.
As soon as Auden turned, the Countess appeared with a young woman in tow. This woman was beautiful, with long auburn hair and sparkling dark eyes. She wore a dress of deep crimson with a modest neckline, but there was no disguising the appeal of each curve on her body.
"Your Highness," the Countess said in breathy sigh, nearly folding herself in half in a show of respect as she curtseyed to the floor. "You remember my daughter, Dona Catarina? Perhaps you would be so kind as to grace her with a dance."
Dona Catarina kept her gaze on the ground, eyelashes fluttering as she too curtseyed deeply. She played the roll of respectful innocence to a tee. The only thing that kept Auden from believing that she was innocent to her mother's games was the way she pretended Auden did not exist.
"Of course," Dorian said. He cut a quick, apologetic glance to Auden. "I would be delighted."
There was nothing Auden could do. This was the way of things; to dance with other women, even the Dona Luísas and Dona Catarinas, was the respectful thing to do. To say no to such a powerful woman was unheard of, and these people would only blame Auden, that was incredibly clear.
She was the root of all problems. She was the outsider trying to steal their prince.
Watching them dance, Auden couldn't help but think that maybe she was wrong for Dorian. Dona Catarina was a graceful dancer, the perfect height to pick up and spin, and slight enough that Dorian did not break a sweat dipping her to and fro. They would make a beautiful couple. A Portuguese couple through and through.
It was too much. Auden couldn't take the heat of the room, of the stares for a moment longer. She turned around -
- and ran smack into a waiter.
The bottle of wine slipped from the waiter's white-gloved hands and shattered on the floor, the sound muffled by the swelling orchestra. Still, the dark red pooled across the floor, across Auden's shoes, soaking into her feet, the hem of her gown. Everyone near turned their heads and gawked. A few laughed. Even the waiter gave Auden a scathing look, though they obediently bent down to clean the mess before anyone could step on the glass.
Tears stung at Auden's eyes. Embarrassment choked her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into the chaos.
And then, she fled from the ballroom.
Propriety forbid her from actually running anywhere, but she hustled to the nearest exit and around the nearest corner, following brightly-colored hallways until everyone and everything disappeared. She found the nearest bathroom and forced the door open. It was set up hotel-style (likely from the days when palaces such as these were used as tourist attractions and not actual living spaces), with a row of stalls facing a row of sinks and mirrors, gold-gilt and pristine.
Auden locked herself into the furthest stall and sank down to the floor rest her head against the wall. The vent by her side blew cool air onto her over-heated face. She tried to calm herself, but the tears kept building behind her eyes, creating a terrible, maddening pressure.
She closed her eyes.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Dorian picked you. He wants you. Auden told herself this over and over, running her fingers across the stones in her engagement ring, memorizing each shape and facet. She was not an insecure person. She was not one to doubt the intentions of others. But anyone would be pushed to the brink, treated the way she had been treated this past hour. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion, a celebration of love. Instead, it seemed like the whole court was out to ruin her marriage before it begun.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Her foot started to cramp so she kicked her shoes off. Tiny cuts criss-crossed over the tops of her feet, crusted over with drops of blood - a parting gift from the shattered wine bottle. She would need to clean them before they got infected. She should get up and go to the sink, get the water warmed up so it wouldn't sting as badly.
Just as Auden moved to stand, the vent started talking.
She didn't mean to eavesdrop. It was not her intention to spy or invade other people's privacy. It was just an unfortunate phenomenon she inherited from her mother. Queen Finnley of Illéa was notorious for her impeccable, if not suspicious timing, and her uncanny ability to walk into a scenario at the right moment. An ability she passed down to Auden, though Auden tried her hardest to fight it.
Now, Auden leaned into serendipity and pressed her ear to the vent.
The voice on the other side was male, and angry, his words garbled as Auden strained to focus on the tail end, " - we are running out of time."
Governor Ermani. So that was where he ran off to.
"Yes, I am well aware." This was Queen Amantia, her higher tone coming through clearer. She sounded just as haughty ever, but there was a clear sense of urgency and stress. "And you would do well to remember - "
"You are threatening me?" Unkind laughter followed. "This whole country has fallen to shit ever since you took the throne. How my poor cousin would weep - "
"Keep my husband out of this."
"He never should have left his legacy to an outsider. This country belongs to me and my heirs, not to a German widow and her half-witted bastard." Auden sucked in a breath, stunned at the harsh words. Why Queen Amantia was letting Governor Ermani talk to her like this, she could not guess. Anyone else would have been reprimanded or worse, arrested. "I will make sure Portugal is strong again. As soon as I have the signatures."
Signatures? What did he mean by -
"The girl will not go quietly," Queen Amantia said, her voice muted, unlike before. "I fear she is not as meek as she seems."
Auden's blood ran cold when she realized they were talking about her.
"Outsiders," The Governor hissed, followed by the distinct sound of spitting. It was unsurprising to learn that the Governor did not approve of her. His display tonight showed Auden exactly where his loyalties lied. "Get her to bend, or remove her."
"I have tried."
"Try harder." There was no other way to describe the tone than menacing. "Use your resources. You are the Queen of Portugal...for now."
"I used every resource on the parade." Auden swore her heart stopped beating. She could barely process the implication...that Queen Amantia...that she was the one who brought those men with guns. She was the one responsible for that carnage. And then she tried to make Auden believe it was all because of her? "Your men's inability to follow direction nearly cost me my son."
"Oh, so this is my fault?"
"Careful Ermani," Amantia warned, just as deadly as him. "As you said, I am still the Queen of Portugal. I could decide I like you better in prison."
"Are you sure this is a battle you want to pick, Your Majesty?" The mockery on the title was clear, Governor Ermani's voice dripping with contempt and amusement. Something chimed, the sound of crystal on crystal. Someone was pouring a glass. "She will bend. I am sure of it."
Auden would not bend. She would not run from any more ballrooms. She would not let scheming mothers and their deceitful daughters get under her skin. She would not be bullied by Ermani or Amantia or anyone else. If they thought that, then they had a rude awakening coming.
But she was not there to defend herself.
And so, Queen Amantia asked, "How are you so sure?"
"Because she is in love with him," Governor Ermani replied, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. "And love, as we both know, makes people do strange and terrible things."