Tempting the Crown (The Crown 1)

I dipped in front of her. “Princess Isabel,” I repeated the phrases Ayla had taught me.

We moved to the next person. He had dark hair and eyes like Damon. I recognized him from the pictures as his brother Liam.

“Prince Liam.” I curtsied.

The ballroom was quiet as I shifted along the row. I wished they would at least play music.

Next was Prince Donovan, then Prince Klein. The Sauvage family genes were strong. There was a striking resemblance between all the brothers.

Last in line of the siblings was Dominic.

“Prince Dominic,” I greeted him.

His eyes followed me. I couldn’t separate the man in front of me from the stories I had heard about the woman he lost. Did he resent me? Envy what Damon had done?

He nodded, dismissing me quickly.

There was only one final introdu

ction.

I lowered my head in front of her. “Queen Caroline,” I spoke clearly.

Her expression didn’t change. She nodded.

I exhaled.

The music began and the intense focus on my every word and move was over. Guests were free to mingle, drink, and eat.

Damon walked up next to me, leaning to kiss his mother on the cheek.

“I had no idea you were flying in for the ball.”

“Sutcliffe called and told me what you had planned. I needed to meet the girl who has upended the country.”

I knew I was supposed to remain polite and emotionless, but my mouth opened.

“Mother,” Damon warned with a sharp tone.

“I’m trying to remember the last time the king had a royal consort.”

My mouth went dry as she continued her cold digs at my title. This was the opposite of going well.

“I was a child, but I remember whose mistress she was.”

Oh my God. If the queen assumed the worst, she couldn’t be the only one. I was mortified.

“If the Dowager Queen has something she would like to say, maybe we should go to the royal study.” Damon gritted his teeth. “I’m not interested in your public manipulations tonight.”

She pinched her red lips together. She was a beautiful woman. Like her children, she had jet black hair and eyes like coal. There was barely a hint of fine lines in her skin. It was hard to gauge her age, but her oldest child was 32, so that put her somewhere in her fifties.

“But isn’t the ball for the public?” she questioned.

I didn’t know if I should run or slowly back into the crowd dancing behind us. I could disappear and find one of those tunnels.

I looked over my shoulder and my heart sang. Brooklyn was here.

Before I could hear another icy exchange, I bowed. “It was wonderful to meet you, Your Majesty.” I looked at Damon. “Brooklyn is here.”