A Swing and A Miss

Maerilee

The ballroom swirls with color and light, the soft hum of conversation mingling with the music that drifts through the air. I try to keep a pleasant expression on my face, to hide the gnawing frustration that’s slowly taking root inside me. My mother told me that she felt it instantly, that deep, magical pull when she found my father. One glance, one meeting of the eyes, and she knew. It was that simple. That certain.

But I’ve been circling this room for what feels like an eternity, and I haven’t felt even the faintest hint of it.

I smile and nod at yet another nobleman, some duke’s son whose name I can’t even remember now. He bows, his eyes bright with interest, but when our gazes meet—nothing. No spark, no sense of recognition, just an awkward silence before he steps away, clearly hoping to find an engaging conversation.

I sigh, trying not to let the disappointment show. I move on, my eyes scanning the room, searching the faces of every man I pass. Maybe I’ve missed him. Maybe I haven’t given it enough time. Surely, I’ll feel something soon. Won’t I?

The air is thick with expectation, as if everyone here is waiting for something to happen. I’m waiting, too. But as the evening wears on, the weight of it grows heavier, pressing down on me until I can barely breathe.

I take a deep, steadying breath and let my gaze wander again. That’s when I see a young prince leaning casually against a wall near one of the alcoves. His name escapes me, but I recognize him as the second son of the king and queen of Oceana. His dark hair falls over his forehead, and there’s an easy confidence in the way he stands, like he’s completely unbothered by the pomp and ceremony around him. He’s not fawning over anyone, not seeking attention like so many of the others. He’s just watching.

I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should go over to him. He intrigues me, not like the other noblemen who keep trying to prove themselves to me. He’s quiet, more reserved, but there’s something in his eyes that makes me think he sees more than he lets on.

I take a step in his direction, but before I can reach him, a figure steps into my path.

“Princess Maerilee,” the man says, his voice slick with charm. His smile is wide, too wide, and there’s a gleam in his eye that immediately puts me on edge. He bows with exaggerated flourish, his golden hair catching the light as he rises. “Surely you weren’t about to waste your time with my younger brother, Brook, were you?”

I recognize him immediately as River, the Crown Prince of Oceana. “I wasn’t—”

“Because,” he interrupts smoothly, stepping closer, “I can assure you, Princess, he’s not what you need. I am what you need.”

I frown, taken aback by his arrogance. “Excuse me?”

He smirks, clearly mistaking my confusion for interest. “Brook is fine if you want someone to waste time with, but let’s be honest, Maerilee. You’re the future queen of Altinna. You need someone of higher standing. Someone with power. Someone who can help you rule.”

He takes another step toward me, his hand reaching out to brush lightly against the small of my back. I resist the urge to pull away, keeping my expression neutral.

“And let me guess,” I say, my voice dry. “You think that someone is you.”

He grins, not catching the sarcasm. “Of course it is. I’m a Crown Prince, after all. My kingdom is strong, prosperous, and I have the experience you need. Together, we’d be unstoppable.”

I stare at him, barely able to believe his audacity. He’s still talking, now listing his various achievements, all while managing to subtly imply that I’m not nearly as competent as I should be. That without him, I’ll probably fail.

“And honestly,” he adds with a wink, “it’s not like you’re going to find anyone better here. I’m clearly the best choice for you.”

I feel my temper flare, but I force myself to stay calm. I’ve dealt with men like River before. He’s entitled, arrogant, and thinks the world should bend to his will just because he’s been handed power. I’m not about to let him think he can speak to me like that.

I smile, sweetly. “River,” I say, keeping my tone light, “while I appreciate your… confidence, let me make one thing very clear.”

He leans in, clearly expecting some sort of praise. “Yes?”

“I would sooner take my chances with a rock than tie myself to someone as utterly insufferable as you.”

His smile falters. “What?”

I step past him, my smile never wavering. “I’m sure your kingdom is doing just fine, but I’d rather not spend another moment listening to you talk about yourself. Good evening.”

I don’t wait for his response, simply heading straight for Brook.

* * *

River

I watch Maerilee walk away, my eyes narrowed as she disappears into the crowd, headed straight for my brother. A mixture of disbelief and amusement stirs in my chest. Did she really just brush me off like that? Most girls would have been swooning by now, falling over themselves for just a sliver of my attention. But Maerilee didn’t even blink. She shut me down with the sort of icy composure I’ve only seen in queens.

That was unexpected.

Who is she to dismiss me like I’m just another forgettable suitor? Yet beneath the insult, there’s a flicker of something else. Admiration, maybe. Most of the women I’ve encountered are so busy batting their eyelashes and hanging on my every word that they don’t even realize when I’m undermining them. It’s almost too easy, too predictable. They lap up the compliments, never noticing the jabs I slip in between.

But she saw right through me. And she didn’t just call me out on it—she walked away like I was barely worth her time.

Impressive.

I smirk to myself, folding my arms as I lean back against one of the marble pillars, watching her with a newfound interest. She’s making her way to Brook now, poor fool. I can’t help but chuckle under my breath. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes what a mistake that is. My brother might seem intriguing to someone like her, all brooding and quiet, standing in the shadows like he’s too deep for the rest of us, but I know better. Brook isn’t the knight in shining armor she’s hoping for. He’s just another disappointment waiting to happen.

Still, I’ll give her credit. She’s a lot sharper than I expected.

I glance around the ballroom, the glittering crowd of fae and noblemen swirling like a sea of colors and wealth. The music plays on, and the hum of conversation fills the air. Everyone here has an agenda. It’s all a game, really. And I’ve always been good at games.

Maerilee is a different kind of player, though. She doesn’t seem like the type to be easily manipulated, which makes her all the more interesting. Shame she’s not my One. I suppose I’d actually enjoy matching wits with her, at least for a time.

My gaze drifts to Brook again, and I shake my head. This is going to be a disaster. The moment she gets close to him, she’ll realize he’s nothing special. He might have the looks, but that’s about it. He’s too serious, too introspective for a girl like her. She needs someone who can keep up with her, challenge her. Someone like me.

I feel a flicker of irritation as I watch her laugh at something he says, but I quickly push it aside. No sense in getting worked up over this. If she wants to waste her time with him, that’s her mistake. I’ll be here when she realizes her error. The kingdom will need someone like me eventually, whether she sees it now or not.

Until then, I let my eyes wander across the ballroom, scanning the crowd with a more practical intent. If Maerilee isn’t interested, there’s no reason to waste the rest of the evening. There are plenty of other women here who would be more than happy to entertain me for the night. After all, the ball is only the beginning of the festivities. There’s always an after-party, always rooms tucked away in some dark corridor where we can slip away unnoticed.

My gaze lands on a serving maid, her auburn hair catching the candlelight as she moves gracefully through the crowd, carrying a tray of wine goblets. She’s slender, with wide, innocent eyes and a soft smile. The kind of girl who looks up at you with wonder, who believes every compliment you feed her. I imagine how easy it would be to pull her aside, whisper a few sweet nothings in her ear, and have her melting into my arms before the night is over.

Yes. She’ll do.

I watch her for a moment, tracking her movements as she weaves in and out of the guests, completely unaware that she’s already been chosen. There’s something satisfying about knowing I can have her with just a few words. It’s all a game, really. And I always win.

But first, I’ll finish watching this little train wreck with Maerilee and Brook. It’s not often I get to witness my brother make a fool of himself in real-time, and I’d hate to miss the show. I cross my arms over my chest, settling in for what’s sure to be a catastrophe.