The Titleless Lady and the Emerald Prince

As guests adorned in feathers and silks elegantly glided across the marble ballroom floor, sipped the goblets of aged crimson wine, gossiped into the ears of one another, and laughed while concealing their faces behind their delicate fans, I hid.

Under one of the many stone arches of the king’s opulent ballroom filled with intricate oil paintings and glittering crystals, I wrapped my hands around myself. I was a sheep in wolves’ clothing. The dress I wore was not bought but stolen from the local seamstress, who likely had sewn together a quarter of the room’s finest dresses. My gold necklace was swiped from the jeweler when he had gone on his afternoon lunch break. My silk slippers and gloves were nicked from the estate of Lady Haziel during her sleep. The only thing that was “mine” was the ruby pin in the shape of a rose clipped to the right side of my hair. My mother’s. It was the only memory of her I had left after she died. She died so they could galavant across this room. She left me and my brother behind. My fists curled.

The ballroom suddenly quieted to a hush, and guests parted across the middle, allowing room for the king and queen to stride forward. Their son was nowhere to be found though it was written in The Talk that he was to be engaged tonight. The king lifted an arm, and the queen rested her hand atop. This was the ball for their twenty-fifth anniversary. Twenty-five years of ruin, though no one in this room felt the effects. No, its effects were on the scraps of society—those who had no warm homes, no meals, and no families. 

That was why I was here. One jewel from the queen’s hand or the king’s crown could solve all my troubles. I’d have enough money to last a lifetime. Enough to send Lynx to school. Enough to feed us for years. Enough to get us under a permanent roof.

The king and queen strode to the center of the room. One ring, one necklace, one bracelet. One of them was all I needed. The music began, and they stepped into an easy waltz, turning about the room in all their diamonds and pearls. It was almost beautiful until the gilded gold masks of wealth washed away, revealing the dirty, rotten iron beneath. They turned past me, so close that the dress of the queen almost brushed my ankles. The king lifted her in the air, eliciting a round of applause from the room.

It reminded me of those snow globes they sold at the market during the winter. Chaos could erupt outside. But the little house and the handcrafted wooden girl would stay all the same. All it would feel was the glitter pieces of snow as they fell to the floor once again. The outside world could become a living hell, but it would never touch what was inside. That was the power of wealth. Wealth was not just a show of power, but it was a tool to mend mistakes, making it seem like they never occurred in the first place. I never understood why some were born to have everything and others nothing at all. 

As the waltz ended, I saw a few tears come, which were quickly wiped away by silk handkerchiefs. Applause sounded throughout the ballroom. I watched as the king and queen moved to the two red thrones sitting on the dais at the front of the room. I turned to follow but immediately crashed into something solid. No, it was not something.

It was someone.

My eyes trailed up a perfectly tailored black suit and black tie. When they reached the face—

Burning skies.

“I quite like this thing.” Crown Prince Eyrx, son of the very king and queen whom I just watched waltz across the floor, reached down and touched me. He—he was—I stood there, stunned. I didn’t realize what he was reaching for until Mother’s ruby pin was already in his hand. He twirled it around, admiring it in the light. 

I glanced around. No one had yet noticed his presence, their attention still enraptured by the king and queen. He looked into my eyes, humor dancing through them. A strand of blond hair hung in his emerald eyes. 

The. Crown. Prince. 

A thousand words of kindness, praise, and honor fumbled in my mouth, but the only one that seemed to escape was, “Excuse me?”

“It’s beautiful. Where did you steal it?”

My eyes snapped to him. “What?”

A smile lifted on his face. “A true lady, as you claim to be, would never allow dirt to smear her dress.”

“I don’t have dirt smeared on my dress,” I said indignantly. 

“See for yourself.” He raised a brow.

I looked down.

“Not there.” He stepped closer to me and took the fabric of the back half of my dress into his hands. I could feel the heat rolling off of him. He lifted my dress to show me. Indeed, there was a bit of dirt smeared on the very ends of my dress. But that was not what was at the front of my mind. What was at the front of my mind was that he, a distinguished gentleman—prince at that—was standing so near a woman. Scandal. It would be written all over the papers if anyone had been paying attention.

“It’s only a small stain,” I tried to say as I lightly pushed against his chest with my stolen gloves. “And I would like my pin back.”

He lifted up my pin to where he knew I’d never be able to reach it and waited for the two words of title I would never say. “You are forgetting something. The secret words.”

Your Highness, otherwise pronounced as prick. Or could also be pig. Or—“Bastard.”

“What was that?”

I gulped. Why had I said that? He would certainly throw me out, and I would lose the one chance I had. “I—I—” Set aside your pride, Serena. I swallowed hard. One chance. “I’m sorry.”

Once those words were out of my mouth, he… he began laughing. 

I turned my head and saw that the guests were noticing us. Each one swiveled their heads to see the commotion. No, no, no. This would ruin my chances of ever getting to the king and queen undetected. They would write about me in The Talk as the titleless lady and seducer of the crown prince. I could care less about my image. But one jewel could save my little brother’s future. Through the side of my eye, I could already see guests whispering to one another behind silk gloves. I squeezed my eyes shut and took in a deep breath. 

“Do you still have space on your dance card?” he asked.

“What?”

“Well, I’m sure a beautiful young lady like yourself would have already had a turn about the room.” I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. He whispered, “Or… perhaps I am right. That you are not the lady you pretend to be.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t know we needed one.”

He cocked his head. “Of course you didn’t.” He held out his left arm. Now, everyone was surely staring. “Then, may I have this dance?” A few people gasped. Skies, help me now. Accept the prince and there would be a scandal. Refuse the prince and there would be an even greater scandal. 

“Yes,” I said warily. I laid a hand on his arm, accepting if not for the ruby pin he was still holding. He would certainly not be stealing from me tonight.

He led me to the center of the room. My slippers glided on the marble floor. I swallowed hard. All my life eyes were purposely averted from me. No one wanted to look at a poor, dirty street girl. But now, in a matter of seconds, every gaze in the room was on me, on us. Even the king and queen. 

That was when I noticed the ring. Not on the king. Not on the queen. But on the prince. It was a band of emeralds. Not the kind of light green emerald. But the kind of green that was so deep it almost looked blue. What surprised me more was that he wore it on his left ring finger. I knew for certain now that the headlines of the papers tomorrow would be of nothing but this. 

“I didn’t know you were married,” I commented as he took my waist. I rested my hand on his shoulder. This was for Lynx. I’d take it for Lynx

I saw him hesitate, if not just for a moment. “I am not. I am betrothed. Or will soon be. And I am to present it to the girl I intend to marry tonight.”

The music began, and we stepped into a comfortable pace. He led the dance, and I followed after him. “Then why not ask her to dance?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t feel like it.”

A complete lie. “And who might the lucky girl be?” 

“Why? Would you like it?” A smile began to creep on his lips.

Yes. I didn’t answer him, however. I wasn’t sure why I asked that. The prince’s personal life was none of my concern. Not when my little brother was waiting in the alleyway, cold and alone. If I could do anything about it, then there would be no proposal tonight.

“Did you ask me to dance in order to be ominous or out of the kindness of your heart?” Perhaps he was suspicious of me. Perhaps he wanted to know who I was before throwing me out of the castle. I cursed the dirt smeared on my dress.

“Neither,” he said. “Curiosity.”

“I’m an open book,” I lied. “What would you like to know?”

“Why you pretend to play dumb.”

“I—” I blinked. “What?” 

He spun me. When I faced him again, he said, “You don’t know.”

My brows creased. “What don’t I know?”

We were near the dias now, almost touching the crimson carpet. “You don’t remember me, Serena.” 

The room froze as he lifted me up in the air. The glittering ballroom seemed to glow brighter up here. His emerald eyes pierced beyond my heart, my soul. Everything felt slow and fast at the same time. Cold and hot. Slippery and rough. 

He knew my name. No one knows my name save my brother. Save—

I was twelve. Lynx was five. Mother died one week prior.

It was raining.

We sat under a thin rusted roof in the alleyway, clinging to each other. The lady inside the door across from us took one look at us and slammed the door on our faces. Dirty, rotten, scum. I saw a rat scurry by, taking shelter somewhere too small for my hands to reach into. 

“I want her to come back,” Lynx sniffled.

I hugged him. She was never coming back. Never.

At that moment, a glint of emerald green hit my eye. They were two peering eyes. 

Fear jumped into my heart. “Stay here,” I whispered.

I quickly snatched the rusted iron pole next to me and held it behind my back as I cautiously prowled forward. I wouldn’t let him hurt us. My hand shook as I stepped closer and closer. But then my brows creased. It was a boy. He was no older than me. He didn’t look like he wanted to harm us. He just looked… lost.

“What do you want?” I called, bringing my makeshift weapon forward.

Instead of speaking, he rolled up his pants. A gash—the side of a belt—was slashed across his left leg. It gushed out blood.

I cringed. “Where are your parents? Do you not have them?”

He hesitated before saying, “I do.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“My father did this.”

I lowered my weapon. He did not seem like a threat. No, he was just scared, cold, and hurt—something that I was not unfamiliar with. He swayed to the side. “Come,” I said and helped him to the little alcove. 

“Stay here,” I said, setting him beside Lynx.

“Why? Where are you going?” the boy asked.

I turned to Lynx. “If he is mean to you or hurts you in the slightest bit, tell me. I won’t hesitate to whack him in the face with this.” I raised the rusted metal pipe. The boy looked almost offended.

Then I left.

By the time I returned, Lynx was already asleep on the emerald-eyed boy’s shoulder. 

“I got medicine,” I said, sitting beside the emerald-eyed boy. 

“Where?” he asked.

“The apothecary. The owner isn’t smart about where he leaves his keys,” I said.

I opened the jar of medicine and applied it on his leg. He sucked in a breath. I then took the linen I also stole and wrapped it around his leg. His shoulders immediately relaxed.

“Are you going to go back to your parents?”

“I have to,” he said, shivering. For the first time, I realized he was cold. Deathly cold. His skin was sickly pale and his lips were a purplish blue. All he had on was a soaked linen shirt and shorts. 

I wrapped an arm around him.

He stiffened. “What are you doing?”

“You are cold,” I said. 

“Oh…” he said. “Thank you. No one has ever been so kind.”

“It’s called being a decent person.” After a moment I asked, “What is your name?”

“Elijah Beck. Yours?”

“Serena Powers.” 

When the sun came and the bird played their morning song, Elijah Beck was gone.

My eyes went wide as Prince Eryx set me back down. I stumbled over his foot, but he caught me in a dip. “Elijah Beck,” I murmured. The boy with emerald eyes.

He dipped his head forward, whispering into my ear. His breath sent a shiver down my back. “I never thanked you that night.”

He lifted me from the dip. He stepped forward. I stepped back. We were so young. I hardly recognized him save for the eyes. Those bright, piercing green eyes. “I figured you’d forgotten.”

“I could never forget.” He took my waist and pulled me forward as we did another turn about the room. 

“And how, may I ask, did you recognize me?”

“Your ruby pin. I would have died that night if I hadn’t seen it.”

“Did the king really hurt you?”

He didn’t say a word, but his eyes said it all. Some were born with loving parents, some with no parents, and some with cruel ones. The king and queen might not have seemed as perfect as wanted others to believe. I had known that for a long time. I almost let pity overcome me.

My stomach turned into knots, but one glint had me looking away from him and to the king’s crown. Right. This was what I was here for. Not to be swooned by a prince who had lied to me about his identity.

“I know what you want,” he said.

My eyes snapped to him.

“You know nothing.”

“I know that if you steal that crown, guards will hunt you down. You will not get a fair trial. A rope will surround your neck. You won’t even get the chance to scream.”

“Is that a threat?” I seethed.

“I am trying to repay the favor… by saving your life.”

“You don’t know a thing about my life.”

He turned me, my back to him. “I know more about you than you think.”

I wanted to roll my eyes as I turned back around. “You are a prince. You know nothing about what it is like to live what I’ve lived. You may have lived one day in my shoes, but you have not lived my life. I have lived every day of every week of every year fighting for survival. I have one little brother and he is the joy of my life. And if you think that you can stop me from saving him. If you think that I won’t go to the ends of the earth for him. If you think for a moment that I would rather have my life than watch him suffer the same life I lived, you are terribly mistaken. You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Then let me know you,” he pleaded. His eyes searched mine. “I want—” He swallowed. “I want to help you,” he said at last. “A life for a life.” 

I almost snorted. “If you want to help me, then start by getting me a crown.”

He reached into his pocket and took out my ruby rose. Before I could register it, he broke a petal from it with his finger. It cut him leaving a trail of blood on his finger. The piano crescendoed to a peak.

My eyes widened. “No!” I screamed, but it was already done.

He gently placed the pin back to my hair, one petal missing. I stared at him in shock, emotions firing in my head.

Then the music finished. He took a step back and bowed as the crowd of guests clapped. “And a heart for a heart,” he whispered.

I stood there, unable to move. Rage was rising, rising, rising, until—

An emerald glint caught my eye. It wasn’t Prince Eyrx. No. It was the thing on the ring finger of my left hand.

His engagement ring.