The Rejected True Heiress (Liora) novel Chapter 62

Zane

Well. Today’s the big day.

Homecoming: the first official dance of the school season. A celebration of school spirit, hormonal chaos, and spending an entire week pretending you don’t care about any of it.

Except, of course, you do. Everyone does.

Even me. Which is unfortunate, really.

Because these things? They’re basically peacock conventions for people with too much money and too many opinions about sequin placement.

The ballroom was ridiculous. Absolutely, unapologetically ridiculous. Marble floors polished so hard you could ice skate on them. Velvet drapes thicker than the school budget. Crystal chandeliers so big they probably had names and social security numbers. A live quartet tucked into the corner played something dramatic enough to make your teeth itch.

Callum, our beloved golden boy, clearly spared no expense. My hand brushed one of the velvet curtains as I passed. Real subtle, Your Highness. It was hard enough competing with the guy’s grades, charm, leadership record, and jawline. Did he have to win at interior decorating too?

I shook my head, smiling to myself. Let him have the crown, the pressure, the legacy. I had something he’d never touch, freedom.

Strolling in a bit late wasn’t my original plan, but was as tradition demands. My jacket was wrinkled on purpose, because fashion is just disobedience with buttons. My hair was half-tamed, my cravat a little off-center. I’d getcompliments anyway, which was proof that none of this made sense.

Girls fluttered by in gowns like spun sugar and flower petals. Gold, sapphire, magenta, every color on the royal palette had exploded into dresses. Someone had a live butterfly caged in their updo. Another was wearing more feathers then a swan, the plush puffed out of her sleeves.

And me? I’d turned down six dances in the first twenty minutes.

“Oh come on, Zane!” An arm linked around me, trying to pull me to the floor. I planted my feet. It was the same thing year after year, and everyone was only getting more boring.

“Another time, Gizel,” I gave her a crooked grin, her cheeks flushing.

“You know, you really could at least try to enjoy this, Zane,” a classmate sniffed as she swanned past.

“Aw, c’mon Lexi! Don’t be mad, I’m thriving,” I shouted. “They’ve got microscopic cheese cubes, shrimp, and punch! I’ve never felt more alive!”

She smiled back with a wink, “Sure, just save me a dance.”

I knew that look. That was the look of a girl who had been stood up, but was pretending to be above it.

I should've walked the other way.

But I'm not completely heartless, plus that promise, I was willing to keep.

“Hey, Smartie,” I said, sliding into the chair beside her. “You look like you're plotting to steal the punch bowl. Need an alibi?”

Mia looked up, startled, instantly fiddling with her dress. “Zane, I, um, didn’t expect to see you…”

“Why?” I grinned. “I did say I wanted to have that dance. Don’t tell me your turning me down?”

She smirked, but there was this look in her eye.

My head tilted. “What’s up? Out of everyone you seemed so excited for all” My hand gestured around, “this.”