The Heart of a Wielder (Book One of The Wielders Trilogy) ✔️

Chapter Four

The days until the ball passed uneventfully. Maren kept to her rooms, either meditating or reading, and waited for time to pass. Solitude did not particularly perturb her, and she much preferred solitude to having the Prince grumbling at her.

The way he had acted around her was irritating, of course, but also somewhat comical. He seemed to be torn between fear and loathing of her.  He had even recoiled from her approach before they walked in the gardens! It seemed rather ridiculous that he should be afraid of her. He, Crown Prince of the kingdom, was terrified of the lowly daughter of a rural count?

In a way, she understood some of his fear. But the Prince acted as though she carried some sort of contagious disease that he might catch if he came too close. That was the part that truly annoyed her.

And now she had to spend an entire evening in his company.

She prepared for the ball with minimal enthusiasm. Mrs. Whitley had dubbed one of her gowns "suitable" for the event. It was made of dark green lace and had a square neckline with fluttery lace cap sleeves. Maren thought it was rather pretty with its full skirt and sweep train, although she had originally objected to her mother buying it as an unnecessary expense. But her mother had refused to send Maren to Court without at least one ball gown, and now she was truly grateful. She wished her mother could see her wear it.

She generally avoided balls and similar events—not that there were that many to attend at her home. But since the principal reason for women her age to attend social gatherings was to find a suitable husband, and she absolutely would not marry, she considered them a waste of time and an unnecessary risk. Any social gatherings were an opportunity to expose herself, and she avoided them.

She supposed a 'normal' woman in her position would be excited to go to a ball on the arm of a prince, but Maren could think of few things she'd like to do less.

Lucy, at least, was excited enough for both of them. She had chatted to Maren incessantly while helping her dress and fixing her hair. Lucy had heard from Lady So-and-so's maid that she was wearing a pink dress, and wasn't that scandalously unfashionable? And did she know that Count Such-and-such would be here with his new wife? She was Prince Kieran's choice at last year's Selection.

Maren politely smiled and nodded along. She would have been happy enough to let Lucy take her place if she could.

"Do you know what Lady Callista will be wearing?" Lucy asked Maren when her hair was nearly finished.

"Who?"

"Prince Kieran's mistress..." Lucy explained, her tone suggesting Maren should absolutely have known that.

"Ah, yes...ah...no, I don't know," Maren answered.

Maren had never even seen Lady Callista or had any idea of who she was. She didn't have any real interest in getting to know the other woman, either. Maybe in the past, women from the Selection developed some camaraderie among themselves, but Maren couldn't imagine cozying up to Lady Callista. Their circumstances might appear similar from the outside, but Maren doubted very much she could find common ground with her.

Besides, having something like a friend was entirely too dangerous.

"There, all finished!" Lucy declared. "You are very lovely, my lady."

Maren surveyed her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was arranged into an intricate updo. Lucy had done an impressive job.

"Thank you, Lucy, and thank you for your help. Please have a nice evening," Maren said, smiling at the maid. She really was very sweet.

Lucy bobbed a curtsy and left.

Maren checked the clock. There were a few minutes before the ball started. She sat quietly for a few moments, trying to muster up her strength for the evening.