Once Upon a Broken Heart (Once Upon a Broken Heart, #1)(15)
Before Evangeline had been turned to stone, there had been a different heir to the throne: a young man nicknamed His Handsomeness. Unfortunately, she’d learned that during the Week of Terror, the Fates had made their reappearance known to the public by murdering this unlucky royal. The new empress, and her younger sister—whom people called the Fate Slayer—had battled the Fates to get the empire back, killing one, and proving that Evangeline’s theory had been correct—the Fates weren’t true immortals. They didn’t age, but they could die.
Most of the city adored the sisters for their victory over the Fates, but some believed the new empress was actually a Fate. The scandal sheets claimed that she could read minds and her fiancé was a pirate covered in a web of scars.
Evangeline knew better than to believe all the rumors. Yet she was still anxious about the mind reading. She didn’t want the empress seeing her thoughts and learning that Evangeline was not the savior everyone believed.
Evangeline toyed with the buttons of her cream capelet, suddenly hot as she left her carriage and followed a palace servant down a flower-covered path to a door with a golden handle shaped like a hummingbird.
After opening the door, the servant bowed. “Your Majesty, Miss Evangeline Fox has arrived.” He stepped aside, welcoming her into a garden full of fairy-green trees dripping coral, pink, and peach-colored flowers that made Evangeline think of soft kisses on cheeks.
“Welcome!”
“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Evangeline!”
“Your hair really is divine!”
The empress and her sister, Princess Donatella, spoke at once as hummingbirds zipped above their heads.
“We weren’t sure what you liked, so we ordered a bit of everything,” announced the princess. With cloudburst-blue ribbons in her blond curls and a playful expression on her pretty face, she was not at all how Evangeline had imagined the brazen, Fate-slaying hellion from the scandal sheets.
“We have blackberry creams, harvest terrines, pumpkin pudding, walnut tarts, and every type of tea.” The princess waved a hand toward a tiered tower of colorful teapots piping pretty pink steam. If the royal sisters were trying to dazzle her, they were doing an excellent job.
Evangeline felt like a princess herself as she finally removed her capelet and took a seat at the generous table. “This is wonderful. Thank you for inviting me.”
“We’re so pleased you could join us,” said the empress. She was young—probably around Evangeline’s age—although it was difficult to be sure, as she had a thick gray streak cutting through her dark hair. She wore an off-the-shoulder ruby gown, pretty lace gloves, and a smile so sweet Evangeline found it hard to believe she’d been anxious about meeting her. “We’ve wished to meet you ever since hearing about your heroism during the Week of Terror.”
“But we also want to ask for a favor,” the princess chimed in.
The empress eyed her sister, who was apparently going off script.
“What? I’m sure she’s dying with curiosity. I’m just trying to save her life.” The princess reached across her sister’s plate and picked up a square of cream paper covered in copper print.
* * *
In Honor of
His Highness Crown Prince Apollo Titus Acadian
You Have Been Summoned to the Magnificent North
to Attend Nocte Neverending Festivities Begin on the First Winter’s Day
and They Will Not End Until Prince Apollo Has
Found His Bride
* * *
The metallic ink shimmered as if it were still wet—or touched with Northern magic. Evangeline tried not to leap to any conclusions and failed almost immediately. She’d been hoping there was another happy ending waiting for her, and as she looked at this invitation, it was practically impossible not to imagine that this could be her way to find it.
“The North has different customs from ours,” the empress said softly. “The crown prince can’t fully ascend to the throne until he’s wed, and hosting a ball to choose a bride is one of their oldest traditions.”
It was also a tradition that Evangeline was familiar with, which felt like another sign. Her mother had told her all about Nocte Neverending. As a little girl, Evangeline thought it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard. Secret ballrooms were built for it in forests where fallen stars had once landed, leaving everything laced with bits of enchantment. Liana Fox used to say that there were special kinds of magic that only existed in the North, and not even memories of this magic could pass to the south. Then she would tell Evangeline how every night during Nocte Neverending, the current crown prince would watch from a hidden location until he picked five ladies to dance with. Night after night, he’d follow the same routine, watching and then asking ladies to dance until he found the perfect bride.
“I’d always hoped Nocte Neverending was real,” Evangeline said. “But I was never quite sure.”
“Well, it is, and we want you to go.” The empress took a sip of tea as a hummingbird dropped peach flower petals into her cup. “We would attend, but I don’t believe it’s wise to leave the empire so soon after being crowned and—”
“There’s someone in the North that I’m avoiding,” inserted the princess.