Chapter 8

Olivia began to instinctively shrink back, then firmly held her ground. She realized she’d never be able to get away at the rate things were going.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot answer your questions if you all ask at once. I need to go see Princess Margaret, so please let me pass.”

Her gaze was steady and her voice sounded clear and confident. But none of that mattered when she was outnumbered. Moreover, these men knew that this was their one and only chance to inspect her up close, making them reluctant to back off.

She tried pleading with them one at a time, asking them to move, but they only closed in even tighter. Her breathing grew ragged.

Oh, where are you, Professor? She helplessly scanned her surroundings, not knowing how to get herself out of this crisis. Her back was to the wall, and she was completely surrounded by aristocrats. There was no one she could turn to for help.

It was at that moment that the atmosphere suddenly changed. There was a stirring somewhere at the back of the group of nobles, then they split like the Red Sea.

Olivia craned her neck to look over the heads of the men closest to her. Prince Noah was making his way toward her. And just like the first time she’d laid eyes on him, she completely froze.

When the prince saw Olivia, trapped in a corner with her breathing quick and shallow, he couldn’t help but sigh. His father should have at least sent a proper chamberlain to escort her back inside once the interviews were over. They’d never had a commoner guest before, so perhaps the thought just hadn’t occurred to the king.

As Noah approached, Olivia looked like a fearful rabbit, her eyes wide with apprehension. To his surprise, he saw his own clear reflection in her black irises. He stared at the mirrorlike reflection for a moment, then held his hand out to her.

Instead of reaching out as expected, she merely stared at him, bewildered.

“Take my hand,” he said. His voice was low and icy.

The young woman didn’t know what else to do. Feeling as though she were under a spell, she placed her hand in his. While Olivia’s wrists were bare under her white blouse, the prince’s hands were clad in soft black gloves. Through the silky texture of his glove, she could feel the warmth of his firm fingers. The moment she closed her fingers around his hand, the pounding of her heart suddenly fell quiet.

The prince turned around and shot a threatening look at the wanton young lords. They retreated without protest.

He took the lead, guiding Olivia through the crowd hand in hand as the other aristocrats parted to make way. She blankly stared at the prince’s profile as he cleared a path for her, always staying half a step ahead.

Her heart, which she’d thought had settled down, began to race again. This time, it seemed to be for a different reason.

At that moment, a jaunty dance number began to play. The young aristocrats who’d been making small talk headed for the center of the banquet hall en masse. The entire scene changed without warning.

Through the sea of dancers, Noah met eyes with his aunt, who was glaring at him so ferociously it almost hurt his feelings.

I’m actually trying to return this girl to you, Aunt Margaret.

“Um...” said the tiny voice next to him.

He turned to see Olivia looking up at him with a troubled expression.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll go around the crowd and make my way to Princess Margaret.”

The prince glanced in the direction where the young woman was pointing. A group of noblewomen from prominent families were standing there, fluttering their fans and pointedly sizing her up.

Noah looked down at her fair and smooth hand, then turned his gaze to the dancers.

“That may not be the best route. Do you see all the noblewomen?”

Olivia didn’t answer.

“They’ll be an even larger challenge than the men you just met. Is that really all right with you?”

“Then I’ll wait here. When the dance is over...”

“Dance numbers play in succession. There’s no break in between.” Noah paused to think. Then to Olivia’s horror, he casually said, “This dance’s steps aren’t particularly difficult. Would you like to try?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked in alarm.

With his free hand, Noah pointed to the spinning dancers. “You see how they keep moving to the right? You should be able to reach Princess Margaret in about three repetitions.” He stopped pointing and offered his other hand to her.

“I’ve never danced before,” she whispered frantically.

Noah merely arched an eyebrow at her, continuing to hold his hand out expectantly. It was customary for members of the royal family to share a casual dance with the palace guests. Besides, he was starting to feel the pressure of the clusters of chaperones and debutantes explicitly staring in his direction.

Olivia felt faint, but she somehow managed to hold herself together as she dazedly accepted the prince’s hand. She didn’t know the first thing about palace etiquette, but she was fairly certain that refusal in a situation like this wasn’t the proper choice.

As she took his outstretched hand, Noah gently released the hand he had used to guide her and placed it on Olivia’s upper back. “Put your left hand on my shoulder,” he instructed.

In all her confusion, Olivia mechanically did as she was told. Her movements were stiff with nerves.

Looking down at her, the prince explained, “All you have to do is take four steps to the right and turn twice. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

His serious face and dry tone actually helped her to pull herself together. She focused hard on the dancers, like she was getting ready to attempt the world’s most difficult task. She could see that they were indeed moving exactly as the prince had explained.

“Four steps to the right, turn twice,” she muttered resolutely to herself, as though memorizing facts for an exam.

With a light chuckle, the prince pulled her into the sea of dancers. He didn’t expect her to find this dance much of a challenge—after all, even young Princess Lucy could do it with ease.

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but that meant nothing. At this point, every woman he laid eyes on was speculated to be one of his romantic prospects, so what did it matter if Olivia Liberty from Faulder was added to the list? Besides, she would be heading back home in just a few days.

He led her across the dance floor, his movements deft and gentle. “One, two, three, four, let go, then turn around. One more time, hold it here. Easy, isn’t it?”

The rhythm was simple enough, and with the prince kindly counting out the beat for her, Olivia had to admit this dance was easier than she had expected. On top of that, the music was bright and cheerful, making it less embarrassing to dance so closely with a man she’d only met for the first time today. Once she got the hang of the movements in the first two sequences, the third sequence even felt like fun.

She twirled twice, grasping the prince’s hand to keep her balance, when she was surprised to find herself suddenly face-to-face with Margo. They really had reached her in exactly three sequences.

Noah released his hand and removed his other hand from her back. He bowed in a flawless, sweeping gesture, then flashed a smile at Margo and promptly turned to leave. He strolled away languidly as though the dance had never happened.

Olivia blankly stared after him, then snapped back to her senses and turned to Margo.

“Professor,” she said, blinking furiously and feeling somewhat mortified.

Margo gently tugged her arm. Frankly, she was flabbergasted. She’d come in from the terrace expecting to see Olivia accompanied by Beatrix, but the frail queen was unable to wait any longer for the interviews to end and had already left. As a result, Margo had been greeted by the sight of the young student enjoying the courtesy of Prince Noah’s personal attention.

She tried shooting the young man a stern look. She knew that he often ran with the wrong crowd and was an easy target for tabloids. At the same time, she had to admit that in this case he’d rightly fulfilled his duty as a representative of the royal family.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked Olivia.

“I’m starving.”

“Let’s go. I’ve ordered some battered fish to be sent to your room.”

The young woman felt her tensed neck finally relax. “Thank you so much, Professor! Is it really all right if I just leave?”

“Certainly.”

Margo led the way, marching out of the banquet hall with dignified and assertive steps. The aristocrats around her quickly retreated to make way, reminding Olivia once more that her professor was indeed a member of Herod’s royal family.

After she had followed Margo for a while, Olivia glanced back through the open doors of the banquet hall’s entrance. It was like a painting—a scene of beautiful aristocrats swirling beneath the orange glow of the sparkling chandeliers, all surrounded by the intricate gold and marble frame of the hall’s front archway. She couldn’t believe that for a moment she too had been one of the painting’s subjects.

“Olivia!” her professor called.

“Oh, coming!”

She hastily turned and hurried down the stairs. So many things had happened at once. She could still hardly wrap her head around it all, but now the splendid banquet was over.

Noah was making his way to the terrace when a group of the young lords who had been pestering Olivia intercepted him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” one of them grumbled.

“How could you just snatch her away, Your Highness?” another moaned.

The prince slowly raked his impassive gaze over the gaggle of pathetic losers.

“A guest of Astrid deserves Astrid hospitality,” he quipped.

His tone was light and conversational, but the young men flinched at the unmistakable edge to his words. They felt instantly humbled and hastily rearranged their features.

Noah took out a cigarette from his pocket and held it to his lips. When they saw his eyes gleaming dangerously from behind the smoke lazily wafting into the air, the men began to slowly back away.

“Even if she isn’t up to Astrid’s usual standards, she was invited by the royal family. She should be treated as such. Don’t you think?” he continued.

The men were too intimidated to answer.

“So what possessed you to act like hooligans?”

“Forgive us, Your Highness,” one of them muttered.

Just because I keep you in my company doesn’t mean you’re allowed to cross the line, Noah thought dismissively.

“You ought to be more careful. People are watching.” He imparted a final word, then coldly swept past them and strode into the terrace. The young lords left behind cleared their throats awkwardly, then sheepishly scattered.

From behind one of the hall’s majestic pillars, Isabelle Seymore watched the scene unfold with a twinkle in her eye. To be more exact, her eyes were fixed on only one part of the scene—Prince Noah, and then on the terrace to which he had disappeared.

“Madam Joubern...”

“Yes, Lady Isabelle?”

“What do I have to do to marry Prince Noah?” The nineteen-year-old woman plainly met the eyes of the legendary chaperone.

Madam Joubern gazed toward the terrace, then slightly nodded.

“I’ll need to think on it,” she finally answered. “Prince Noah is... different. The usual methods might not work on him. And it might take some time. Would that be all right with you?”

Isabelle nodded. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

With that, the two women smiled and gracefully turned away.