I wore a dark blue silk dress with a pair of simple Jimmy Choo heels and carried a silver purse at my side. I curled my hair and put on a necklace.
"Well, someone looks ready."
I turned around and saw Charles smirking after he said it. He wore a suit like he was preparing for a fashion show.
I rolled my eyes. "You Americans think you have to look inappropriate to get noticed, but dressing elegantly can do the same thing."
He chuckled. "Suit yourself, French princess."
"And screw you, American boy."
His grin only widened.
"Wow," he said, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. "You look beautiful, and that's what I get?"
I blinked.
For one very annoying second, I forgot how to speak.
Then I lifted my chin. "Do not think one compliment will save you."
He placed a hand over his heart. "So cruel."
"You will survive."
"Maybe," he said, still smiling. "But for the record, I was being serious."
I hated the way my stomach fluttered.
I turned back to the mirror and adjusted my necklace, pretending I was far more focused on that than on him. "Well," I said lightly, "you do not look completely embarrassing tonight either."
He let out a soft laugh. "That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"Do not get used to it."
He stepped farther into the room, his expression changing just a little. Less teasing. More careful.
"Are you ready for this?" he asked.
I met his eyes in the mirror.
"No," I said honestly. "But I am ready enough."
He nodded like he understood exactly what I meant.
"Madison's parties are… a lot," he said. "Too many people, too much fake smiling, too many phones out waiting for a scandal. If anything feels off, tell me. If you want to leave, we leave."
I turned to face him fully. "You say that as if I am the one most likely to cause a scandal."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you're not?"
I narrowed my eyes.
He laughed and held up both hands. "Okay, okay. Bad timing."
I reached for my purse. "I do not intend to embarrass myself tonight."
"No," he said, glancing over me again, "you'll probably embarrass everyone else just by walking in."
I should not have liked that.
I did.
We walked out together, and the White House felt strangely quiet around us. My heels clicked softly against the floor, and Charles slowed his steps just enough to stay beside me. Downstairs, the lights were warm, the staff discreet as always, the entire place polished within an inch of its life.
As we reached the entrance, Aaliyah was already there waiting in a black dress and silver earrings, looking equal parts pretty and dangerous.
She took one look at me and grinned. "Okay. So we're going in like a threat. I respect it."
I smiled. "You look beautiful too."
"Thanks," she said. Then her eyes slid to Charles. "You clean up tolerably well, Winchester."
He nodded solemnly. "High praise. I'll frame it."
Aaliyah snorted. "Please don't."
The drive to Madison's house was shorter than I expected, though perhaps that was because my mind was too busy preparing itself. By the time we pulled up outside, I understood immediately what kind of night this was going to be.
The house was enormous.
Of course it was.
Lights glowed from every window, expensive cars lined the driveway, and music spilled out into the evening air. Students clustered near the entrance in tiny, glittering groups, all polished and posed like they were attending an event more important than a school party.
"Subtle," Aaliyah muttered.
Charles sighed. "Yeah. That's Madison."
Before we even reached the front door, heads started turning.
Whispers followed.
"She came." "Is that Charles with her?" "Oh my God, that's the French princess."
So much for subtle.
I straightened my shoulders.
"If anyone asks," I said under my breath, "I was forced to come."
Aaliyah smirked. "You look way too good for that lie to work."
We stepped inside.
The entire house smelled like perfume, candles, and money. Music pulsed through the rooms, not loud enough to ruin conversation but loud enough to make everything feel like a performance. A long table near the back held drinks and little polished appetizers no actual teenager wanted to eat. Parents were nowhere in sight, which somehow made their influence even more obvious.
And there, at the center of it all, stood Madison.
She wore pale pink, of course. Something soft and expensive and carefully chosen to make her look effortless, though I knew perfectly well that effort had gone into every inch of it. Her hair fell in glossy waves, and her smile was flawless as she greeted people like a queen receiving guests.
Then she saw me.
For one second, her expression shifted.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Enough for me.
Then the smile returned.
"Monique!" she called warmly, crossing the room toward us. "You made it."
"As you can see," I replied.
Her eyes swept over me from head to toe. "You look stunning."
There was sweetness in her voice.
And calculation underneath it.
"Merci," I said. "You look very… coordinated."
Aaliyah made a choking sound beside me that suspiciously resembled a laugh.
Madison ignored it beautifully.
"I'm so glad you came," she said, linking her hands together. "I want you to meet some people."
Charles immediately spoke. "She just got here."
Madison's gaze flicked to him. "And I'm being welcoming. Isn't that what hosts do?"
I looked between them.
The tension was almost elegant.
"I can meet people," I said calmly. "I do know how to speak."
Charles looked at me, then gave a small nod. "Right. Of course you do."
Madison smiled in victory, but only for a second.
"Come on," she said, guiding me forward. "There are a few people here you should know."
I followed her into the crowd, fully aware of Charles and Aaliyah staying just close enough behind not to leave me alone.
The introductions blurred quickly: student council members, debate captains, the son of someone important, the daughter of someone richer, a girl who smiled too hard, a boy who tried to kiss my hand as a joke and looked startled when I let him.
"You're really a princess?" one girl asked breathlessly.
I took a sip of sparkling water. "Unfortunately, yes."
She blinked. "Why unfortunately?"
"Because people ask strange questions," I replied.
Charles laughed from somewhere behind me.
Madison did not.
As the night went on, I began to understand the structure of the party. It was not chaos. It only pretended to be. Madison was controlling everything from the middle of the room—who spoke to whom, who got attention, who was seen near her, who was not. Every conversation was arranged like flowers in a vase.
And then I ruined it.
Not dramatically.
Not at first.
A boy from the lacrosse team asked if France really had palaces.
"Yes," I said. "Do you not?"
His friends laughed.
A girl in gold asked whether I missed "servants doing everything" for me.
I smiled sweetly. "No. I miss competent people. There is a difference."
That laugh spread even farther.
I could practically feel Madison's evening slipping one careful inch at a time.
By the time someone asked me if I had ever met a duke, half the room was listening to my answers instead of whatever Madison had planned next.
She appeared at my side almost instantly.
"Monique," she said smoothly, "why don't we get some air?"
A request.
A command.
An extraction.
I set down my glass. "Of course."
We stepped out onto the back terrace, where the music softened behind us and the night air cooled my skin. The garden lights glowed low and gold, making everything look softer than it was.
Madison turned to me, her smile gone.
"You're very good at this," she said.
"At what?"
"At walking into a room and making it yours."
I folded my arms lightly. "I did not know this room belonged to anyone."
Her jaw tightened.
"You know what I mean."
"Yes," I said. "I think I do."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she exhaled. "You think this is a game."
I tilted my head. "No. I think you do."
Her eyes flashed.
"Everything here matters," she said. "Who people notice. Who they listen to. Who they trust."
"And who they obey?" I asked softly.
She stepped closer. "I am trying to help you."
"No," I said. "You are trying to place me."
That hit.
I saw it.
"You came here and everything shifted," she said, her voice lower now. "People are curious about you. Teachers talk about you. Charles looks at you like—"
She stopped herself.
Ah.
"There it is," I said quietly.
Her expression hardened. "Do not flatter yourself."
"I was not going to," I replied. "You did that on your own."
The door behind us opened.
Charles stepped onto the terrace, his face unreadable. "Everything okay out here?"
Madison's smile came back instantly, thin and shining. "Perfectly fine."
Aaliyah appeared just behind him, clearly unconvinced.
I looked at Madison for one second longer.
Then I smiled.
"Yes," I said. "We were just finishing."
And somehow, I knew the night was only about to get worse.