Like the Dawn (Lark #3) (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

             
T
he ball is tomorrow and the castle is buzzing with excitement that I still don't quite understand. When Hugo returned with his army of elves, I thought for sure that we would go ahead with a plan of attack and cancel the ball. Obviously I didn't win that argument either, but at least Fight Club is out in the open now and the council agreed with me that this was our best chance.
              My apathy regarding the impending soiree is obvious.  Klaus, on the other hand, is ridiculously excited and was tremendously relieved when it wasn’t cancelled. To make it more bearable, I try to look at it as a necessary business obligation. 
              It was decided that we would continue with the ball as planned and use the occasion to officially sign the alliance papers. I suppose it’s fitting since the original point of the evening’s festivities in the first place was to persuade the kingdoms of Gautelfr and Raumelfr to ally with us.  It did not go unnoticed that they had already decided upon that minor detail before I was invited into the council meeting.
              I wonder who’s to blame for that suggestion.
              We now have the complete support of one kingdom and the heir from the other is also on our side—
and Blaise doubted my charms
. I laugh to myself.              First thing Monday morning, we'll begin planning the attack on the Dark Elves while teaching a crash course on combat technique to the other elves.
              It's not exactly what I had in mind—I still think it would be better to just cancel the ball and dive right into training, but I'm trying to make the best of the situation and focus on the fact that this is all almost over.
              Assuming I can end it anyway.  It’s hard to ignore the possibility that the outcome could go in Dugan’s favor.
              No. I can't allow any doubts. I
will
succeed. I have to.
              I've gotten used to my new chambers regardless of how ridiculous the space seems—I mean, seriously, I’m standing in my very own drawing room at this very moment. What am I going to do with a drawing room?
              I find myself exploring every nook and cranny of the area meticulously, looking for anything out of the ordinary.  Since discovering the hidden passageways in the vault it’s made me wonder what other secrets these castle walls may be hiding.  So far, no such luck.
              Freya suddenly enters my drawing room and announces, “Mia, Lord Hugo is here to speak with you.”
              “Really?” I ask, surprised. “Send him in.”
              Freya gestures and Hugo struts through the door.  The docile elf curtsies before making her exit. She's adorable and no matter how many times I ask her not to be so formal with me, it's like a habit she can't break. At least she's finally started calling me Mia so maybe there's hope for her after all.
              “Princess,” he greets me, kissing my hand in his usual acknowledgment. “You look beautiful as always.”
              “Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself.”
              “Oh, I know,” he says with a suggestive smirk. “Are you anxious for tomorrow?”
              “Anxious for it to be over,” I admit.
              “How will I find you in the sea of masks?” he asks with a teasing lilt. Isobel and Klaus were apparently the ones who came up with the brilliant idea of a masquerade. I glance over at my white mask with the intricate purple beading and feather plume resting in a box on my vanity. Isobel had it custom made to match the purple dress she had suggested I save for the ball.
              “Oh, I guess you will just have to test your luck.”
              “Challenge accepted.” He winks. Handsome as he may be, his flirtatious gestures aren’t nearly as endearing as Jacoby’s. It helps that Jacoby doesn't really take himself too seriously whereas Hugo most definitely believes he is Sól's gift to females.
              “Well, good luck then,” I say, friendly, yet unaffected.
              He doesn't seem discouraged. “But that isn't why I've called on you this afternoon. I've come to see if you’ve had a chance to consider my offer?”
              Good grief why does this elf always put me on the spot like this?
              “I honestly haven't had much time to think about it, Hugo.  I'm sorry.”
              “Oh no, it's quite understandable. You have a lot on your plate of course. I had just hoped that after officially declaring the alliance tomorrow evening, we could make an exciting announcement of our own.”
              “I think I just need some more time,” I lie. I don't need more time—I don't want to spend my life with someone who will merely 'tolerate' me. I owe Hugo a lot—he really came through for my kingdom, but I won’t marry someone out of obligation. However, I think I'll keep that decision to myself until after the alliance is made official.              
              “Of course.  Just don't take too long Princess, I’m sure you realize that a catch like me could disappear from the market like that,” he says, snapping his fingers then following up with another of his signature winks.
              “I'll keep that in mind,” I assure him, grinning at his pompousness. It's a wonder he's able to fit his big head through the door.
              “I also thought you would like to know that my mother and father will be attending the ball after all.”
              “Seriously?”
              “I told you mother would be able to force father to see reason.”
              “So does this mean they will also sign the alliance?”
              “I feel certain they will.”
              “Hugo! This is amazing! I can never thank you enough! When everything is over, I swear, I'll think of a way to repay your kindness.”
              “Oh, I'm counting on it.” He winks yet again, then bows before turning on his heel and leaving.
              I flop down on the closest chair and try to collect my thoughts. A part of me considers that Hugo actually does have a point.  Someday—albeit in the very distant future—I will be queen and I think it would be difficult to rule alone. But, on the other hand, Alberico managed just fine so maybe I just need to have a little more faith in myself.
              Ugh, I need to quit worrying about what will happen if and when I eventually take the throne.  That day will not be here anytime soon.  Or ever, for that matter. At this moment, it is not my duty to worry about ruling the kingdom, it’s figuring out how to defeat the Dark Elf King.
              “
Well, I won't deny that I'm oddly relieved that we are in the middle of a war then
,” Jacoby speaks inside my mind.
              “
What do you mean by that?
” I ask him.
              “
It's just good to know that, for the time being anyway, you have other things to occupy your thoughts besides your future spouse.
”
              “
Good point.
”
              “
Can I come in?
”
              “
Like, right now?
”
              “
Yeah, well, that would be nice since I'm standing outside of your room right now and elves are bound to start talking about it.
”
              “
And like letting you in would be any better?
”
              “
Hey, you let Hugo in
.”
              “Okay, fine.”
              I open the door to find him leaning against the frame. His auburn hair falls casually in front of his eyes, and he runs his hand through it before barging right in. He makes himself comfortable on the chaise lounge.
              “What do you want anyway?” I ask him.
              “Nothing.” He smirks as he makes a show of propping his arms behind his head. “Just wanted to say good-night.”
              “You could've done that without coming into my chambers,” I point out.
              “True, but why pass up an opportunity to bug you?” He winks.
              “Seriously, Jacoby. What do you want?”
              He looks up toward the high-arched ceiling and closes his eyes before he speaks. “I just—I just wanted to make sure you didn't make any promises to anyone. I'd hate to make a liar out of you.”
              “And how would you do that?”
              He drops the nonchalant facade, exhaling deeply before twisting back into an upright position. In one swift motion he's off of the chaise lounge and standing in front of me.
              “I just would. It doesn't matter because—you and me—” he says, gesturing between the two of us. “We're soul mates. I know that sounds cheesy as hell and, believe me, I never thought I'd believe in crap like that. But that was before I met you.  I may not be sure of a lot of things but there's one thing in this life that I
am
sure of.”
              “What's that?” I choke out the words in barely a whisper as he closes what little distance there is between us.
              “You and me. It's always going to be you and me,” he whispers huskily.
              Before I have time to react to his sudden closeness, he's pulling me into his arms, pressing his lips firmly against my own with such an intense urgency one would think it was the last kiss we were ever going to share.  
              But I really hoped that it wouldn't be.
              “Jacoby—” I pull away breathlessly. “We can't.”
              “I know. Not right now. And I understand.”
              “You do?” I ask, kind of shocked that he was giving up so easily.
              “I'm not giving up. I won't ever give up. Not as long as you promise me one thing.”
              “I don't—”
              He presses a finger to my lips interrupting me. “No. Don't. It's an easy promise, I swear.”
              “What?” I ask when he removes his finger from my mouth.
              “Promise me that you won't make any promises to anybody else until after this is over.”
              It's not such a hard thing to promise him. Not in the grand scheme of things. After all, I didn't want to make any promises to anyone else anyway.                “Okay.”
              “You promise?”
              “I promise.”
             
“Good,” he says, and he seems genuinely relieved like he was actually worried about it. Then all seriousness has passed and he's back to his teasing self. “I can't wait to see you in your dress tomorrow.”
              “Yeah, keep your fingers crossed I don't trip and fall all over myself.”
              “Don't worry, if you fall I'll be there to catch you.”
              “I hope so.”
              He gives me a crooked smile before kissing the top of my head.
              “Good night, Lark.”
              “Good night, Jacoby.”
             
             

Chapter Twenty-Six

             
I
t's almost time for me to make my grand entrance and I haven't even left my chambers yet. An overwhelming sense of dread has been drowning me all day. I hardly slept at all after Jacoby left last night. Part of it was just nerves about today but it was mostly because I couldn't stop thinking about him and everything he said.
              “Are you ready, Mia?” Freya asks meekly.
              “Yeah, I think so. Would you mind grabbing my mask from the drawing room, please?”
              She curtsies before scurrying away. On a whim I decide to strap the iron-centered dagger to the inside of my thigh. I feel a little silly but for some reason it just seems like a good idea.
              Freya returns and I place the elaborate mask on my face.
              “You look beautiful, Mia,” she says.
              “Thank you.” I smile. “I'll see you after the ball?”
              “Yes,” she says with a soft smile. “Have a wonderful time!”
              “Thank you. Wish me luck!” I tell her before I go.
              It feels weird walking down to the ballroom alone. Grey has always accompanied me and offered his support whenever I have to act like a princess. But this time I'm on my own. I can't really blame him. I know that I hurt him.
              “I can do this,” I murmur to myself. I take a deep breath and descend the stairs leading toward the ballroom.
              An elf wearing an official uniform nods as I approach him and then with a deep and booming voice, announces my arrival. Everyone bows and curtsies as I make my entrance. It amazes me that I'm not even fazed by the attention anymore. This is my life now.
              Elves come up and eagerly wish me a “happy birthday”—most of them I don't even recognize because of the masks they are wearing. Their excitement is contagious and I find myself getting caught up in the moment. Maybe this ball wasn't such a bad idea after all. 
              The ballroom is stunning.  The colors appear to be taken straight from a twilight sky boasting deep pink and purple hues. The dim light provided by the glowing lanterns floating overhead paired with the masked crowd creates an enchanting and mystical ambience. It's very different from the last ball I attended here which was very floral and whimsical—like something out of
A Midsummer's Night Dream.
I can’t decide which one is more beautiful.
              It's hard to identify the party-goers from behind their elaborate masks, but of course a few stand out to me. I spot Adele, easily detectable by her short platinum hair, standing over in a corner chatting with a couple of other elves.
              Then I see an elf with an emerald green and black mask wearing an ostentatious black hat with a rather large green plume sticking out of the side. He's smiling widely as he makes his way through the crowd toward me.
              “Good evening,” the elf greets me, pulling me into an enthusiastic embrace.
              “Klaus?” I ask hesitantly, as I try to wiggle out of his arms.
              “How did you guess?”
              “The hat was a dead giveaway.”
              “Happy birthday, Princess.”
              “Thank you, Klaus. But you know it's not really my birthday,” I tell him. “And you're supposed to call me Mia.”
              “Only when we're alone.” He winks before asking,” Are you having a good time?”
              “As good of a time as I can anyway.”
              “You're that anxious for the battle?”
              “I'm that anxious to end the war,” I correct.
              “Never would've believed such a little thing could be so spunky.”
              I laugh. 
              The soft music fills the air along with the quiet murmuring of the crowd. I make my way around the room, saying hello and smiling though I don’t recognize many of the guests between the masks they are wearing and the dim lighting of the room. 
              I spot an elf watching me carefully across the room. Despite the disguise, it doesn't take me long to recognize him. Grey's wearing a simple black mask and has tied his dark hair back at the nape of his neck.
              My heart clenches knowing that everything between us has changed—that I've likely inflicted irreparable damage between us. Even though I know that I don't want to be with him romantically anymore, he's been my friend for so long that the idea of not having him in my life hurts too much to bear.
              When he starts making his way toward me, I feel as though my heart stops altogether.  He tucks a loose piece of hair behind his ear and rocks on his heels nervously.
              “Can I have this dance?”
              I can't find the words so I just nod and let him take my hand. He leads me out onto the dance floor and I realize that we've been here so many times before yet the timing of it has never been quite right. I wonder if he realizes that as well and that's why he's looking down at me nostalgically.
              We twirl around the room silently and when I can't take it anymore I blurt out, “I'm sorry.”
              “Me too.”
              “You don't have anything to apologize for.”
              “But I do. You are right, I don't give you enough credit—I never have. I just got so used to being the one to always save you that I didn't realize that I made you feel like you weren't my equal.”
              “The timing never was right, was it?”
              “I suppose not,” he agrees. “And I suspect your heart already belongs to someone else—and I'm not referring to Klaus.” He smiles knowingly.
              “No, definitely not. Though I suspect his heart belongs to you.” I can't help but laugh as I let my eyes wander over to where Klaus is watching us. Poor guy.
              “Yes, we will definitely have to do something about that.” He shakes his head disbelievingly.
              Another silent, bittersweet moment passes between us, then he says, “I understand it though. I want you to know that. You really do belong to him.”
              “I don't belong to anyone.”
              “But he is your other half.” That seems to make him sad, but I can't make myself deny it. I think I've known it all along.
              “Your other half is out there too. It just wasn't me.”
              “Hmm,” he murmurs noncommittally.
              “You should consider giving Adele a chance. I'm pretty sure she's in love with you.”
              “What? No.” He seems genuinely shocked.
              “You really can't tell?”
              “I think I've been a little too preoccupied with someone else to notice.”
              I blush and feel guilty at that.
              “Do you think we will ever be able to just be friends?” I ask him.
              “I hope so.” He hesitates but I know he means it. “But maybe not right away. I think I will need time. You aren't going to be easy to get over.” He sighs. “I will always be here for you. Never doubt that—regardless of my feelings. I've learned from my mistakes—I won't let my heart cloud my judgment ever again.”
              The song ends, drifting effortlessly into the next one and then the world shifts. I don't know how I know he's here but I know that Jacoby just walked into the room. It's like I can feel it—as though my soul recognizes its other half. I've only ever felt whole when he's been near.
              I glance around the room and then like some unseen magnetic force my eyes find him. He starts to make his way toward me and the world stops spinning altogether.
              It doesn't matter that he is wearing a mask—I'd recognize those green eyes and that devilish grin anywhere.
              “Can I cut in?” Jacoby asks.
              Grey searches my face for a second before nodding curtly and placing my hand in Jacoby's outstretched one. He spares me one more look before returning to the side of my father just off of the dance floor.
              “How did you know it was me?” I ask. Did he recognize me as easily as I recognized him?
              “It was easy. Yours is the brightest aura in the room.”
              “What color is it today?”
              “Gold with flecks of pink. It's beautiful,” he whispers.
              My cheeks redden and I have to look away from the intensity in his green eyes. It's then that I notice the stares and whispering amongst the Light Elves. I should have known that they would never really stop their gossiping ways—especially not when Jacoby or myself is involved.
              Jacoby wraps his other hand around my waist and I place my empty one on his shoulder. For the first time in weeks, I feel complete again.
              My whole body aches to be closer to him and from the way he is staring down at me, I can tell that he feels it too.
              And I know that I can't keep up this masquerade any longer.
              I do love Grey. There's no denying it. But I'm
in
love with Jacoby. I can't pretend otherwise anymore. With him—is where I belong.
              “You look beautiful. Not that I'm at all surprised of course.”
              “Thank you.”
              “I'm sorry I'm late,” he apologizes and there's something sad about the way he's looking at me that makes me think he means more than what he's saying.
              “You're not,” I tell him, hoping he understands my meaning.
              “I'm not?” A faint glimmer of hope sparks in his eyes.
              “It isn't possible for you to be too late.” How can I stand here and pretend that I don't love him. There is nothing truer in the entire world than my love for the boy standing before me.
              We stop dancing then—if we ever really started to begin with. For all I know we might have been standing here frozen in time because nothing else in the room matters to me. I think he feels the shift in my resolve, or maybe he heard my thoughts—I've never been good at blocking him—because he asks, “Can we go somewhere more private?”
              I nod and follow him out into the gardens. When we are alone he turns to face me. He gently removes my mask, tossing it off to the side along with his own. For a moment he studies my face intently as though he needs to memorize it.
              “Did you mean it?” he asks eagerly though still uncertain. “Do you still love me?”
              “Of course I still love you.”
              The change in him is so instantaneous that I'm honestly surprised that he isn't glowing with the power of the sun, but of course, that's my super power—not his.
              “But Jacoby, it doesn't change anything.”
              “Of course it does—it changes everything.”
              “The logistics of it still don't make sense,” I try to reason with him even though imagining a life without him causes an ache to erupt in my chest.
              “Don't you get it? I don't care. I'd rather die knowing I got to spend my life with you then live forever without you.”
              “But what about when you're an old man and I still look eighteen? Won't that bother you?”
              “Are you kidding me? Do you honestly think
that
would bother me? I'll have a hot wife when I'm an old man—I'm pretty sure that's every man's dream.”
              I smack his arm. “I'm being serious. You don't think that will be weird?”
              “No way!” He grins. “I'll be the luckiest old man ever.”
              “People will think you are a pervert,” I point out.
              “So be it.”
              His lips crash into my own and everything that I've kept locked up tightly inside of me bursts forth.                It's the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more all at the same time. For the first time in weeks I'm not thinking about the war, or allies, or the Dark Elves or how many times I've screwed up. All I'm thinking about is how for the first time in a while, I feel like everything is going okay.
              Everything about the way he's kissing me feels right and soon we find ourselves lying in the feathery soft grass of the garden. The world feels new yet familiar at the same time and I'm glad that we waited for this moment because nothing could have been more perfect than being here surrounded by the beauty of Álfheimr, in the arms of the boy I love.