just fall | ✓

18.

Alexander and I decided to go on a date after dinner on Tuesday. All of the Selected had been thrumming with excitement at dinner, and it seemed that only Aquia and I knew the real reason for the party on Wednesday. None of us had met the royals that were visiting, though they had arrived Tuesday afternoon, and I found that even Clara wouldn't see them until the following day. Jetlag was a bitch, apparently.

We walked arm-in-arm through the gardens. There wasn't enough time to go to the little cottage, and there wasn't much else to do since it was night and everyone was busy preparing for the following day.

"Are you excited that your friends are here?" I asked. "Clara told Aquia and I that you're close with the Italian and Russian princes."

"Oh, she did, did she? And what else did Clara have to reveal?"

"That it's your birthday tomorrow, but you already knew that." My lips pulled into a smile. He'd found out earlier that I'd known, but I had half-wondered if he'd forgotten our conversation in the blur of cream-colored skirts and camera flashes. "You could've told me, you know."

He pressed his lips together, but I could see that he was trying not to smile. "Don't be so smug, my mother and Clara are planning a celebration for you as well. And the other royals will be here for it."

"Don't try to distract me from the fact that it's your birthday tomorrow," I said. "I can't believe Aquia and I had to ask your sister to find out that it's your birthday tomorrow! You didn't even give me enough time to get you something!"

I watched as all joking flooded out of him. His expression hardened just a little. "I don't want you to get me anything. I can get whatever I want," he insisted. After a few minutes, he said, "Well, maybe one thing."

"What is it?" I definitely wouldn't have enough time or money to get it for him, but...I don't know, maybe I could try? Maybe I was stupid for even asking. I didn't even know why I asked.

Once again, I could see that he was trying not to smile. "One of your weekends soon. We would leave after the Report and would return after dinner on Sunday."

I found myself nodding before I could really think about it. "Of course," I said. "I'd love to."

He grinned. "Then that's all I want."

☼

My maids were a flurry of fabric and makeup and all sorts of other things the next morning. They'd spent ten minutes arguing over whether I should smell like jasmine, rose, or some bright, citrusy scent. They'd originally thought vanilla, but when I'd said that I didn't want to smell like a cupcake, they'd grudgingly tried to pick a new scent as they tugged at my hair and did my makeup and picked out a dress. They'd decided on a blended perfume made of jasmine and carnation after realizing that nearly every girl would be wearing rose-scented perfume. I was glad anyway; I didn't like the smell of rose and the jasmine-and-carnation smelled like heaven. They spritzed it on my wrists and behind my ears, and at the base of my neck and the hollow of my throat.

My maids said that they'd seen the other girls' dresses being prepared and that they were all bright, vibrant colors. So despite the fact that it was a party, the dressed me in a simple, fitted gown of black. It was silk and looked almost like a robe, with two sides overlapping to form a V that was classy enough to not be indecent. The sleeves were long and loose, falling to just above my wrists. The top was figure-hugging, but the bottom flowed down and flared out when I walked. The fabric itself was patterned with swirling green vines and pink flowers, and they put me in heels that were the same shade of green.

Glory twisted my hair back into a simple twist at the back of my head, fastening it with only two glossy black sticks crossed over each other. I didn't know how she did it and even if I asked, I was sure that I'd never be able to do it quite as well as her. It looked nice, though. Far nicer than any half-assed bun or ponytail I would have thrown my hair into back in Kent. Colt and the others used to say that whenever I did that, it meant Business. That was how they knew shit was going to hit the fan.