Daniela's head throbbed a rhythmic, insistent beat, a cruel reminder of last night's indulgences. Yet, despite the exhaustion and a hangover that made her skull feel ready to explode, she had to maintain the carefully crafted charm that was now second nature.
She perched at the edge of the expansive breakfast table, deliberately placing herself away from where the rest of the company would soon gather, desperately hoping for a moment of quiet solitude. Her wish, however, was immediately shattered.
"You smell lovely, Princess Daniela." Miguel's voice, deep and smooth, slid up behind her. He pulled out the seat next to hers with a scraping sound that made Daniela wince. To him, she smelled of everything delicious: malice, violence, sex—a pleasing, heady scent amongst the overwhelming, decaying perfume of the other women. Her scent was the only truly delectable one.
At this point, Daniela was genuinely convinced all the princes must be insane. Jasper, obviously, with his predilections toward being watched by the dead, and Miguel, to a far lesser extent, who had this bizarre obsession with sniffing women. It was so unexpected.
In her various lifetimes, this one had offered a startling number of surprises. This world shocked her with its visual beauty, its vicious charm, and the strangely specific things that amused its royals. None of this had been on her bingo card, yet here she was.
"Hello, Miguel," she replied, her voice dripping with the practiced honey of playful seduction.
Miguel crossed his arms over his expansive chest and stared at her, wondering if he would ever get to see her be herself.
"Are you always like this?" he asked, a note of genuine curiosity in his tone.
"Like what?" Her lips curled up into the breakfast of smiles she offered the world, but he merely tilted his head, silently expecting a true answer.
"For you, I will tone down my natural allure. Shall we start again?" she asked, her voice now far more unexpressive. She gave him a simple, polite, girlish smile—not the flirty, seductive one reserved for everyone else. Considering that neither of them was truly interested in the other, there was no harm in dropping the act. It was one less person she had to perform for.
"I wonder which side of you he likes more?" Miguel mused aloud, curious if his friend had fallen for the persona Daniela presented or for the woman she actually was. Did anyone truly know her? Did she even want anyone to? In a room full of princesses who swooned and divulged every detail about themselves, Daniela was the only mystery.
She knew the 'he' Miguel referred to. "I don't always pretend. He knows me well enough. And because we mean nothing to each other, I will exercise a level of honesty with you." With her splitting headache, this was a far easier interaction.
"Who said I wasn't interested?" His tone was defensive and sharp. He wasn't actively pursuing Daniela, but he wasn't completely disinterested either. Her charm was undeniable; he just found its execution a bit clumsy at times.
"Don't be silly. I'm a poor choice for you. I like the appropriate amount of excitement."
Miguel was intrigued by Daniela's assessment of his taste. He did have a few contenders, but he certainly hadn't felt any genuine pleasure toward any of the princesses.
"If I were you, I would pursue the quiet type. The one who is hiding her real intentions. I think you would be excited to uncover that mystery. Someone small and demure who would follow your lead but still allow for excitement. I am a bulldozer," she said, letting out a short, self-amused laugh. "And you are an immovable object. I don't like anything I cannot move, and I would wager you are the same."
In a rare show of emotion, Daniela was pleased to see his lip twitch ever so slightly, the bone mask he wore moving the smallest amount. It was the only acknowledgment that her words had landed.
The doors to the breakfast hall opened again, and she saw Jasper enter alone. His eyes scanned the room, immediately finding her before narrowing on Miguel.
"If only you would speak more, you may find you actually like one of these princesses," Daniela said. She then stood, giving Miguel a polite little bow, and made her way over to Jasper.
"What was that?" he asked the moment she was close.
"A conversation. They're quite delightful," she mused, her free hand massaging her temples, trying to soothe the raging ache in her head.
"Why are you rubbing your head?" He looked genuinely confused.
"I have a headache," she said with a small shrug.
"You're sick!" His eyebrows raised in concern. He knew how fragile the females of their species were; women seemed to die rather easily.
"Hungover. It's simple discomfort." She waved away his concern dismissively.
He reached out, gently removing her hands from her head, and used his own large fingers to massage her temples.
"You shouldn't indulge in spirits if it makes you feel sick," he murmured.
Daniela slapped his hands away, completely astonished that he, of all people, would admonish her for her indulgence.
"You! Of all people, think to question me about portion control? You?" Daniela said in complete and utter exasperation, poking his expansive chest with her finger. As she did so, she noticed one of the top buttons of his shirt was undone.
Jasper's dark eyes narrowed as she obviously referred to his bottomless hunger. "It's not the same!" he growled, annoyed that she would dig at him in this way.
"It's worse, Jasper! When I indulge, I get a headache, and when you indulge—" she let the end of her sentence hang in the air, a pointed reminder of the slaughter that followed his hunger.
He sniffed lightly at her hair as he guided her, his expression tightening. "And I'm not the only one with a bad habit. You still smell too much like the revelry. It's a distracting scent."
Daniela shook her head and, with a quick, practiced movement, reached up and deftly fastened the undone button on his shirt. "My scent is hardly a homicidal rampage, Jasper. Now sit down before you get fussy and start breaking the antique chairs."
"You're being a bit judgy! I don't judge you," he countered.
"I don't mean to be!" Daniela sighed. "But you started it! If you don't count my drinks, I won't count the bodies." She flicked a stray crumb off the tablecloth, utterly casual.
Nodding his approval, he wrapped his hand around her waist, guiding her toward the table so she could sit next to him. He couldn't take another meal of a princess stating all of her useless achievements. He would rather be tossed back into the Dark Realm.
Heather watched, completely torn between being upset that Daniela had Jasper and feeling a strange warmth at the intimacy of the scene. It was obvious the two of them shared a true, genuine connection. And as much as she thought Daniela was an absolute bitch and couldn't wait for the day she died, she had to admit they were a cute couple.
"They are quite well-suited," Heather said with a reluctant sigh.
"Objectively speaking, they aren't the most hideous pairing," Ashley added, still seething that Daniela had won the prince she wanted.
Fox looked at the couple, thinking that people that beautiful would make gorgeous little babies, and she couldn't stand it. "Daniela has been quite sickly her entire life. She'll probably die in childbirth," Fox said with a cruel certainty.
The other two ladies turned to look at Fox, their eyes wide with bafflement. They all hated Daniela, to be sure, but there was no reason to curse her. They all sought the same prizes, and there were only so many of them. Childbirth was dangerous for all women, no matter if one was strong or weak. It was the most vulnerable time in a woman's life.
"Hold your judgment! May the first princess who has not wished her death scold me!" With her hand resting on her hip, Fox looked at them, daring them to question her. Only the saint among them could question her morality; until then, these hypocritical princesses could shut their mouths.
Rolling her eyes, she walked away from the lot of them, taking up a seat where she knew Deacon would eventually sit. She had practiced all evening, working on her sultry tone and her brothel smile, all in the hopes of charming him, of alluring him the way Daniela had allured the other princes. She was prepared, she was ready. She felt like a tavern wench, and she assumed that was exactly how Daniela felt as she paraded herself around.