I barely registered the last part, my mind still whirling around what she said about Caden. Could there be a chance he felt the same way? I was scared to hope. I had lost so many people in my life. I didn’t want to lose him either. Yet once he graduated, he would be moving up in the ranks, leaving this place to get field experience, stepping up in the role his father carved out for him.
Tonight might be my last chance to make him see me and what we had together. Or could have.
I would tell Caden how I felt.
For good or bad, tonight, everything would change.
Chapter 4
“Stop fidgeting. You look stunning.” Rebeka patted my wrist, similar to the way someone would tap the nose of a misbehaving dog. “The dress is impeccable on you.”
Compulsion moved my fingers back to the top of the dress, tugging at the material, which barely covered the sides of my breasts. Not that I needed much to cover the minimal boobs I had. Genes and years of training had left my body very trim and flat. So many women would gush over my slim build, saying how lucky I was for my “model” figure and looks, while I looked at their soft curves with jealousy. I was all hard angles and coolness, nothing inviting or warm.
Many older men had told me how “sensual” they found me. Even at a very young age, my confidence and appearance drew unwanted notice and touches. I wasn’t oblivious to how I looked, the power it generated—I just didn’t care. Men treated me more as something they wanted to conquer or possess, not truly love.
“You will turn many heads tonight, my dear.” Rebeka smiled softly at me, a deep sadness filling her brown eyes. The same deep brown as her son’s.
Rebeka was in her early forties and beautiful with her silky auburn hair, deep brown eyes, and full lips. She was my height and trim, but she had the curves I always longed for, which were on display in her delicately ornate gown cinched around her small waist. The front was nearly transparent, with beads and jewels placed to catch the light and set perfectly to look glamorous and elegant instead of cheap. Navy tulle descended from her waist to the floor, and her hair was pulled up in an intricate bun, diamonds dripping off her ears.
As a young girl, I used to idolize her. Wanted to be identical to her.
The older I got, the more I realized her perfection was a prison. She was good at doing her duty as “queen” of Leopold. Smiling, charming leaders and their wives, throwing the best parties and being the beauty standing at her husband’s side. She wasn’t a silent partner, though; she could put at ease and relax even the most severe, bad-tempered person in the world. Rebeka and Istvan made a good team. When he couldn’t get something from someone, she went in, and I had yet to see her fail, making me wonder how far she went to win. She wasn’t clueless to her husband’s infidelity, but she never spoke of it. Only in brief moments would I catch a vulnerability and sadness in her eyes. But from little things I had picked up over the years, she didn’t let her bed grow cold either.
“You will do well tonight.” She tucked her arm in mine, guiding us to the ballroom.
“Do well?” I peered at her through my dark lashes.
“Before our independence from the Unified Nations, things were better for women here. Young ladies could marry freely, be whatever they wanted. The war changed that, moving us backward here. I hope someday we will have freedom again, but until then, many of us women do not dare to strive above the brunt of duty and circumstance. We wield our power in more subtle ways.”
Her fingers tightened on my arm, making me swallow over the growing lump in my throat. Where Istvan always criticized me, Rebeka was more caring. She wasn’t someone who baked cookies or played games with you, but she treated me with kindness. Sometimes even acted as a friend.
“I don’t understand.”
She stopped before the large double doors of the ballroom, impeccably dressed guards ready to open them for us. She turned to me, and a sad smile softened her painted lips, her fingers swishing a strand of my long black hair over my shoulder. Normally, it was straight, hitting my lower back, but Maja had curled it in loose waves, adding a few tiny jewels within the locks.
“You will soon.” Her lips pressed together. She shook her head slightly, rolling back her shoulders. “Now, lift up your beautiful face and show everyone in the room they can take nothing away from you. No matter what. Never apologize for how others react to your strength.”
My lungs fluttered at her odd speech. Rebeka had never been one for sentimentality or inspiring speeches. And she had never walked into a party with me, usually entering on the general’s arm.
Why tonight?
“Rebeka?” I searched her eyes, but they were walled up again, her pleasant hostess smile pinned on her face.
“It’s time.” She curved back, nodding at the guards. The doors split open, revealing the breathtaking circular room. Istvan used his sixteen-sided central hall as the “ballroom.” The guests arrived at the front entrance that led them through the jaw-dropping grandeur of the main hall, highlighted by old plated staircases, huge ornately curved ceilings, stained-glass windows, and glass fire-bulbs flickering on the gold lampposts lining the room. Waiters and servants took coats and offered champagne while a small orchestra played on the upper landing, filling the room with music.
Then they were guided to the central hall, the gold starburst designed dome ceiling leaving the visitor stunned at the ostentatiousness of the room. A huge orchestra sat on an upper level, where several full bars and tables of decadent food stood. Tons of waitstaff mulled around with rich hors d’oeuvre and champagne. Magic-influenced fire-bulbs and twinkle lights cast the room in a seductive ambiance. It never ceased to leave me breathless.
Heads snapped in our direction; Rebeka always made a memorable entrance. Now her eyes drifted to me.
“You leave them speechless, my girl,” she whispered to me. “Putty in your hands.” She squeezed my arm before ambling toward her husband.
Hundreds of eyes homed in on me, and I was overcome by the urge to turn around, go back to my room, and dive into my bed with a good book.
Sucking in a breath, I lifted my head, directing myself straight for a waiter carrying champagne. Swiping one off the tray, I guzzled half of it back when I spotted Caden across the room, leaning against the bar, his eyes on me.
His gaze felt heavy on my skin. Serious, but filled with something I had always hoped for.
Longing.
I had seen him in a suit or tux many times, and he always made my heart thrust into my throat. Tonight was no different. Dressed in a black tailored tux that fit his body perfectly, a glass of whiskey in his hand, he looked so beautiful I was almost speechless.
Sparkling bubbles danced in my stomach along with my nerves, magnifying like soap suds, causing my breath to gurgle.
He didn’t smile or move toward me, but similar to a magnet, I felt the tug between us. The spark in the atmosphere. A shift in our friendship.
Bodies moved all around me. Music and chatter weaved through the air. The smell of expensive perfumes and food reached my nose, but it all seemed far away.
Caden was all I saw.
I downed my glass of champagne, placed it on a passing tray, and moved toward him.
“Hey,” I barely squeaked out the greeting, my throat tight.