Let The Games Begin

Chapter 3: Part 1

If looks could kill, I'd probably be decomposing by now.

Dominique Stewart's gaze burned holes in my skin, and even when I wasn't looking at her, I could still feel her eyes on me.

I turned my attention back to Simon, who had a group of people around us enthralled by his very presence. He really was a handsome man.

"Will you excuse me?" I said to him, putting a hand on his arm.

"Yes. Of course," he replied, a smile on his face.

I headed straight for the table of finger foods. I had to give it to my mother, she certainly knew how to throw a lavish party when we didn't even have the money to waste.

"Why on earth are you standing at the king's side like a bloody mannequin?"

My mother's voice was too low for anyone else to hear her, but harsh enough for me to feel the sting.

"What do you mean, Mother?" I said with my mouth full of shrimp, all the better to incense her. A small rebellion.

I turned to look at her, and as always, I was taken aback by her beauty. The years−and numerous doctors−had been kind to her. She never failed to make a black dress look elegant. Of course, the diamonds strung around her neck helped.

"How are you supposed to make yourself a memorable candidate if you simply stand at his side like a dolled-up simpleton?" my mother snapped at me. At a glance, you wouldn't be able to tell that she was angry. It was all in her clear blue eyes. "There are plenty of women out there who can do the very same thing, and I'm sure they'd at least be able to manage a smile while doing it."

I forced my lips to curve upwards. "How's this for a smile, Mother?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I hope you remember that your father's life insurance money won't cover us for the next few years, let alone months, and there are only so many parties I can throw to push the king towards you."

"The way you talk about my father... I wouldn't even be surprised if you killed him." The words were out of my mouth before I even realised what I was saying.

My mother fluffed up her hair, a thin smile on her face. "You have quite the imagination, Helena." Leaning into me, she said, "And men do love a good imagination. Especially in the bedroom."

I watched her walk away, her hips swaying from side to side as she approached yet another wealthy aristocrat who somehow hadn't been affected by money loss like we had.

"She's quite the presence," a voice said.

Dominique was suddenly beside me, accepting a flute of champagne from a passing server, looking every bit as elegant as the other women here, in a blood-red sleeveless dress that matched the colour of her lips.

"Who?" I said to her.

"Your mother. Alexandra. She's very glamorous, too."

"Right," I muttered. "Are you enjoying the party?"

She gave me a small smile. "I'm not entirely sure why I was invited, if I'm being perfectly honest."

"Well, you're a Stewart."

"Yes, but if you're courting Simon as I am, it seems a bit daft to invite the competition to watch you throw yourself at him, don't you think?" Dominique spoke with a smile on her face that didn't do anything to mask the edge in her voice.

I smiled back at her. "It wouldn't have looked right to leave you off the guest list." I grabbed a flute of champagne from the next server that came past, downing the whole thing in one gulp. "Oh, and Dominique? You're certainly not any competition."

I walked away from her with my head held high and my stomach dropping. The lie was burning on my tongue as I returned to Simon's side, involving myself in his conversation with two other couples. When I caught him casting a longing gaze at Dominique standing where I'd left her, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was the woman he loved.

The thought put a smile on my face.