The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 32

Isabelle realized halfway through the morning salon that the only reason she'd rolled out of bed that morning was in anticipation of the ball that night. As much as the promise of Alicia's removal from her suite was a relief, some unknown thing had set her nerves to dancing. Even after Alicia and her trunks had been hauled from the room, there was still a knot coiled so tightly within Isabelle's stomach that it was all she could do to keep herself from pacing. As it was, she hadn't been able to keep her knee from jiggling as she watched the painfully slow progress of the arms of the grandfather clock in the corner. She'd assumed it was the same nervous energy she'd always felt when she realized how caged and alone she was in the palace, but when her eyes kept wandering to the clock, however, she realized it was because she was counting down the hours.

Even with that realization, Isabelle adamantly refused to acknowledge the meddlesome, troublesome little voice at the back of her head that told her it was because she'd see the prince again.

When the hour finally came to prepare for the ball, she was one of the first to leave the queen's salon, ignoring the whispers that now seemed to follow her wherever she went. For the first time since she'd arrived, she scrutinized Lissa's work on her hair carefully, ensuring that not a single curl was out of place. Dressed in her favourite silvery blue dress, she donned her mother's sapphire necklace, refusing to think about her sudden urge to outshine the other debutantes.

Thanks to her impatience, Isabelle was ready far too quickly, biding her time in her suite. She offered Lissa's help to Laura and Marjorie, the pair of them in a tizzy without Alicia's firm guidance. The three of them slowly warmed to each other, the twins all too eager for Lissa's help in selecting their dresses and jewels. Isabelle forced herself to wait for her pair of ladies-in-waiting if only so she wouldn't be the first debutante in the ballroom.

Once they were finally ready, it was all Isabelle could do to keep from running to the ballroom. She wouldn't acknowledge that it was because she wanted the prince's first dance, refusing to think about how she'd react if she arrived to find him already waltzing with someone else. To her great relief, the thrones stood empty at the other end of the room, the royal family still having not yet arrived.

Releasing Laura and Marjorie to enjoy themselves, Isabelle circled the ballroom, once again ignoring the whispers that followed her. She located Cora and Violet, the pair of them chatting with a few of the other debutantes near the entrance hall stairs. Violet's eyes kept straying towards the entrance hall while Cora monopolized the conversation, her face glowing as she recounted some sort of story. Staying well away from them, Isabelle searched the room for Sam, but the tall redhead was nowhere to be found.

She was circling the banquet table when a butler touched her elbow, clearing his throat.

"Isabelle de Haviland?" he asked.

"Yes?" she replied, all too aware of the listening ears that had perked up in the crowded corner of the ballroom.

"The royal family has requested your presence," the butler said, bowing as he gestured for her to precede him. "If you would follow me, please."

Henrietta Barclay, lingering just within earshot let out a snigger as Isabelle passed, the butler showing her into the lower hallway that ran parallel to the ballroom. She followed him as he led her into the old palace, pausing to knock at a set of heavy wooden doors. A pair of footmen waited to either side, pulling them open when some called "enter" from the other side.

Isabelle took a hesitant step into an ornate, marble-floored room. Tapestries lined the walls, with statues tucked into the alcoves between them. The room was dimly lit by a series of standing candelabras, outlining some sort of aisle from the door to the raised dais across the room. Their light pooled on the floor, doing nothing to chase the shadows from the corners. Across from her, upon the dais, were a second set of thrones, these far more opulent than those in the ballroom.