Twisted Loyalty (Twisted Next Generation #1)

17. Camilla

I take a deep breath, looking out at the sea of fancy dresses and overpriced suits, my sight not focusing in on any one thing as everything is a blur. It's not as if I'm nervous by any means. But I'm certainly not excited. I can see the forced smile on both my parent's faces, trying their best to understand why I'm so hellbent on finding a husband of royalty. They don't understand that I'm not like my mother. I can't balance my personal life with my duty the way she can. I'm not smart enough. I'm not good enough. This way, I don't need to worry about love getting in the way. And yes, I dread never feeling the love my parents feel, the love my uncles and aunts feel for each other. But if I want to be a good leader, at least half the leader that my mother is, I have to put my duty, my people first. 

   Which is what I'm doing. I'm pushing my desires and my wants aside and I'm choosing them. I don't think that will ever be enough to be half as perfect as my mother is but it's a start. I already feel stressed and overwhelmed from the thought of my mother passing the crown over to me. I don't want to worry about having to choose between my heart and head. In order to make a decision like that, you need to be a certain type of person. My mother is the perfect epitome of the person you need to be. Me? I'm just following in her footsteps, trying to live up to her legacy but feeling like I'm failing and instead, I'm on my way to becoming a disappointment whose parents lie to spare my feelings. 

   I saw Niko the moment I walked in, immediately devastated when I saw him dressed in a suit and his dark hair framing those dark eyes of his. I tried to turn my attention to somebody that wasn't him, trying to forget that he was here, watching me. But it didn't work. Even standing at the front, my attention on the princes lining up to speak to me, my mind is adrift with the thought that his eyes are still on me and that then leads to the memory of what we had did earlier. I tried to forget it, because succumbing to those temptations is what I'm trying to avoid with the marriage to a man that I feel no connection with. But I keep drowning in the memory of his touch. I don't know how to forget about him. It's as if my skin is stained with his warmth and there's no way to erase it. 

    But maybe tonight will help. Maybe it will be an escape from all the dreading thoughts that are  Niko Volkov. I'm meant to hate the man, but instead my heart bleeds for him. I'm not naive enough to believe it's because I feel anything strongly towards him. But I have known him for a long time; I grew up with him and even if he is seemingly a different man than the one I grew up with, I believe his heart is the same. He just finds it harder to show now that he's changed so drastically. "Are you ready, little princess?" I turn my head when I hear my father question me. I had zoned out completely with my thoughts that I had missed the entirety of the conversation that they were having. But I nod my head anyway, even though there was a nauseous feeling crawling up my stomach and clawing at my throat to escape. "Yes. I am ready," I reply as confidently as I can. Even this is something my mother did better than I. She may have felt nervous but nobody could tell. Her professionalism is part of what makes her a great leader. And I could never reenact her ability to hide her feelings that threaten her professional position. 

   "Who's first?" I ask, nodding towards the line of men that are waiting for a dance, which is where we will get to know each other. "Martin Cruz. He's the prince of a small town in Spain."     "Spain? Aurora sent invitations all the way to Spain?" My father nods. According to my mother, the town in Spain is so little, there is barely any people to lead which explains Martin's motivation to leave and become prince in a place with a wider audience to lead. I nod my head, walking down the stairs and meeting Martin. He offers me a polite smile, taking my hand gently and leading me to the dance floor. His hand placement is respectable, resting higher up my back rather than a little higher than my ass, as most men would do. So far, first impressions aren't the worst. "So, Martin. Let's start off simple. Do you have any hobbies?" He nods his head, lightly rocking me along with him in beat to the soft melody of the music. "Yes. I like to play golf. It sounds boring, I know, but when you're not playing with old men that make rich men jokes, it can be quite enjoyable."