I can’t stop thinking about that lake in the center of the cavern. It was so beautiful, almost too beautiful to describe, and I could tell that Bran really loved that place. I felt like I didn’t really belong there, like I was just a tourist getting a vision of something important that I shouldn’t be seeing, but Bran didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed like he wanted to share that place with me even more than I realized at the time.

Bran has more layers to him than I realized. He’s a lot like this cave. Above, there are all the superficial things that make it what it is, but down below there’s something deep and impressive. Bran has those layers and more, and I’m loving getting to the bottom of them.

As I’m lying around my room, killing time, there’s a knock at the door. I get up quickly and open it, expecting to see Bran or Aleks. Instead, there’s just a box on the floor. The security guy stationed outside my door doesn’t even glance at me as I bend down and pick it up.

I carry it into the living room and slowly open it. I have no clue what it could be until I push back the tissue paper and pull out a beautiful black dress.

It catches my breath. It’s made of this soft, shimmering cloth, and I can’t quite tell what it’s made of. It’s both soft and strong, and it’s probably the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.

There’s no card in the box, but I think I can guess who this is from. I carry the dress into the bedroom and figure that it’s probably time to start getting dressed.

This is an important dinner if I understand this correctly. Blaz Perko and the other opposition party people are going to be there and it’s important that I make a good impression. After all, they’re pretty much the reason that I’m here. I need to be on top of my game tonight, and that just makes me even more nervous about this whole thing.

I glance at the dress again and bite my lip. I’m not sure I can even pull that thing off, if I’m totally honest. I brought some dresses with me, but absolutely nothing close to that thing. I get into the shower and clean up before trying to put it on, almost as if I’m not worthy of the dress, which is silly. It’s just a dress, after all.

I’m not used to fancy and expensive things. I grew up in a poor family and I’ve never had money of my own. Bran pays me pretty well but most of my money goes to savings and to my student loans. I had a scholarship when I was at UPenn, but I had to take out loans to cover all my other expenses. My loans aren’t killer but they’re enough that I’ve had to be careful with money.

This place is the total opposite of what I’m used to. I’m used to simple things and to saving as much money as possible. But Bran’s underground palace is basically one giant ode to wealth and power. I mean, even my bathroom is decorated with gold inlays and beautiful tiling. I bet that the shampoos and soaps are all organic and expensive and probably imported.

I don’t know why I’m dwelling so much on the costs of everything, but I can’t help it. I’m so far out of my element, and what happened down by the lake keeps coming back to me, over and over again. I keep thinking about Bran, the way he looks at me, his cocky grin, his handsome face. He makes me feel things I don’t want to feel, very dangerous things, and it almost scares me.

I get out of the shower, dry myself off, and face the dress one more time. I take a deep breath and let it out. It’s just a dress, right? I mean, it’s a symbol of everything that I’m afraid of down here, but that’s not important. It’s just a piece of clothing.

I get my underwear on and stand in front of the dress. I slowly take it off the hook and step inside of it.

Just as I’m pulling it up, I hear a door open. I move just in time to pull the dress up over my chest as Bran steps into the doorway.

“Well, hello there,” he says, grinning at me.

“Don’t you knock?” I’m barely covered by the fabric. It’s low cut, so I’m not exactly sure if I’m holding it right. The way he’s looking at me suggests that I’m not entirely successful.

“I did knock,” he says. “A lot, actually.”

“I was in the shower.”

“Well, the dinner got moved up. You have a half hour to get ready.”

I stare at him. “Are you joking?”

“Not at all.” He grin gets a little bigger. “Need a hand with that?”

“Get. Out.”

He laughs and turns away.

I’m so embarrassed as I finish getting the dress on. It’s revealing without being too revealing, and when I go into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror, I almost don’t recognize myself. I look really, really good.

I don’t have time to dwell on that, though. I have to rush to get ready, and although I finish in a half hour, I’m not really happy with anything. Fortunately I didn’t wash my hair, otherwise I’d be screwed.

When I’m done, I step out into the living room where Bran is sitting on the couch, looking at his phone and drinking whisky. He stands when he notices me.

“Hot damn,” he says.

I smile a little bit. “This is okay?”

“More than okay. I knew that dress would look good on you, but fuck.” He steps toward me, eyes roaming my body. I know it’s inappropriate, but I really like it.

“Good. I’m glad I won’t embarrass you.”

He smirks. “You couldn’t even if you tried.”

Bran looks really handsome in a modern, slim suit. “Ready?” I ask him.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.” He leads the way out into the hall.

Aleks meets us there. We follow him down two flights and around the bend. Ahead, people are milling around in what looks like a small cocktail lounge.

“Intimate,” I say softly to Bran.

He laughs. “This is just the outside. Wait until we’re in there.”

As we approach the group, everyone stands and instantly we’re assaulted by people. Old men with their wives, young men in military dress, women in business clothing, they all suddenly appear and want a word with Bran. I’m introduced over and over, although I don’t remember a single name.

We finally navigate through the main doors and enter the banquet hall, and the scene inside takes my breath away. There were maybe thirty people outside, but there are at least a hundred more inside, probably more. As soon as we step through those doors, we’re assaulted by more people.

I meet ministers, mayors, business titans, and someone that Bran refers to as “the Don,” which I’m pretty sure is a mafia thing. I don’t have time to think about that though, because I’m pulled from one group to the next.

Finally, about ten minutes into entering the hall, a thin, pale man flanked by two younger gentlemen steps up to Bran. I can feel Bran’s vibe instantly change from jovial and kind to guarded. The pale man is about my height, so on the shorter side, with a thin mustache and very dark brown eyes. He’s gaunt, almost skeletal, but his smile is plastered on his face like a painting. The men flanking him have sunglasses on inside, which is a universal sign for “security.”

“Prince Branimir,” the pale man says. “It’s so wonderful that you’re here.”

“Minister Perko.” The two men shake hands and I realize that this is the man we’re here to see. “May I present my fiancée, Mila Lambert.”

Show time. I step up and shake Perko’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” I say.

He smiles at me. “Charmed, my dear.” He releases my hand and turns back to Bran. “You found yourself a pretty American, I see.”

Bran’s face is a tight smile. “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”

Perko laughs. “You should pick a Bellestanian woman, you know, like my wife. Bellestanian women are well known the world over for their beauty and their thrift.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’m happy with my choice,” Bran says flatly.

“Well, yes, of course. That’s very good of you, getting engaged to a foreigner.” Perko doesn’t stop smiling, but I can practically hear the menace behind every word. “The royal family desperately needs some new blood, doesn’t it?”

I feel Bran stiffen beside me. “Just like this country needs some new blood, considering you’ve been sucking it dry for years.”

Blaz Perko laughs at the insult, and Bran laughs along, but I can tell the two men know what’s really going on here.

“Come now, we’re not going to let politics get between us, I hope,” Perko says.

“Of course not. Minister, have a good evening.” They shake hands again, and we move on to the next group.

For the most part, the night is filled with pleasantries. Although it’s called a dinner, there’s much more drinking than there is eating. I manage to grab a little plate of something spicy, but I have to practically swallow it whole before Bran pulls me away to talk to some other important Bellestanian political figure.

After the meeting with Perko, though, I can tell that Bran is slightly off. I know he’s dwelling on it, probably obsessing over it. Bran is the type of man to take all of his own failings very seriously, and no matter what he does, he’ll always blame himself for something going wrong.

After an hour of this, we finally get separated. Bran apologizes but is pulled into a conversation with a general, leaving me to fend for myself. Apparently, I can’t be privy to state national security secrets, which is fine by me. It gives me more time to get something to eat.

I disappear back toward the buffet station, and I’m about to grab something to eat when I feel a hand on my elbow.

I nearly freak out, but I mange to control myself. I turn to see Blaz Perko’s smiling face, creepy and horrifying, basically the last person I wanted to see.

“Hello, Minister Perko,” I say to him.

“Dear Mila. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes,” I say. “Your country has such beautiful food.”

He laughs. “Of course we do. Although I’m sure you’ve spent more time listening to boring men talk politics than you have actually eating any of it.”

“You’re not wrong, Minister,” I say, smiling a little bit.

“Listen dear, let me apologize for earlier. You see, I’m on the opposite side of things when it comes to Bran, and so we don’t always get along.”

“I’ve heard,” I say, trying to keep it vague.

“But that shouldn’t affect our relationship.”

“Of course not, Minister.” I can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he’s angling for something here. With Perko, I suspect it’s probably always going to be the latter. He is a politician, after all. Working people and getting some kind of advantage is basically what a politician does best.

Which is why I need to be careful.

“Good, good,” he says. “Despite our differences, I do respect Prince Branimir and the whole royal family.”

“Do you?” I ask him. “Why’s that?”

“Well, it takes a very brilliant group of people to keep control of a country for so long, and to convince everyone that they’re gods.”

I blink, totally taken off guard. “Gods?” I ask him.

“That’s right.” he says. “Of course, most people don’t really believe that nonsense any more, despite how hard the crown keeps pushing it. The country is waking up, Mila Lambert, and they don’t believe such superstitious nonsense anymore.” He smiles a sleazy grin. “Ask your future husband about that one.”

Perko looks over my shoulder and I’m about to ask him more questions when Bran appears beside me. “Minister,” he says. “I need to steal my fiancée for a moment, please.”

“Of course, my Prince,” he says, smiling. “Dear. Enjoy yourself.” Perko bows slightly before disappearing back into the crowd.

“What a snake,” Bran says softly. “What was he saying to you?”

“Nothing really,” I say a little distantly. “Just something about you being a god.”

Bran cringes as soon as I say it. “That’s one of his lies,” he says.

“Is it?” I ask.

“Well…” he trails off and sighs. “Not entirely. He’s simplifying it a bit.”

“Jesus, Bran,” I say. “You tell people you’re gods?”

“No,” he says forcefully. “You know how this royal thing can get all mixed up with religion. Well, the Krizman royal family extends back pretty far into the past. And part of our royal claim to the throne is that we’re descended from some of the original Christian saints, and have divine blood.”

I stare at him for a second. “How is that not saying you’re gods?”

“Because we’re not claiming to be deities, just that we’re descended from saints. That’s all.” Bran glares at where Perko stands talking to some other ministers. “That bastard has been spreading the god lie for awhile now. Getting people all worked up over it. Everyone knows it’s just some historical royal crap.”

“Your explanation seems simple. Why not just… tell people?”

“We do, but you know how they don’t listen,” he says. “People like a salacious story better than the truth.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “So why not get rid of the whole divine thing entirely?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “We probably should, but at this point it’s just too late. It’s part of the royal tradition, and we don’t change tradition.” He shakes his head again, and I get the sense that he doesn’t love tradition at all.

The rest of the evening is spent talking to ministers and smiling. My face is freaking tired by the end of the night. I don’t think I said anything of substance the whole time, but it was hard. People weren’t always speaking English, and when they were, it was always just some little pleasantry that didn’t need my full attention to respond. It was actually pretty boring, considering I was in a room full of the most powerful people in Bellestan, and I was lying to them the whole time.

I’m exhausted when people begin to slowly filter out of the room. Bran turns to me and puts his hand on my lower back, sending a thrill down my spine. I should step away, but I know I need to keep playing the fiancée when we’re in public.

“Let’s go back to the room,” he says softly, staring into my eyes.

I take a sharp breath. “That’s against the rules,” I say.

“Are you sure?” he asks, leaning toward me. He kisses my cheek softly.

“I’m sure,” I say.

He laughs and moves his hand. “I just want to go over the night. Then I’ll retire to my own chambers.”

I give him a look. “Just talking?”

He nods. “Talking only. I promise.”

“Fine,” I say. “We have to go back to my room together, anyway.”

“Come on.” He takes my hand and leads the way. I like the feeling of him leading me, although it makes me nervous.

I know we have to pretend. We have to do these things in public to make us seem like a real couple to anyone paying attention. And Bran says that despite the way everyone seems, they’re all paying attention. Nobody is as dopey as they’re pretending to be, and everyone is waiting for him to slip up.

It’s a dangerous place, even though everyone seemed friendly enough. Maybe he’s right, maybe I do need to talk about this. He can make me understand some of the subtleties that I’m sure I missed.

It’ll be professional. Strictly professional. Just like everyone else is with him.