I glanced back at the dark black fur of Gaven’s decorative cloak, surprised he had not left it in his room and gone with something more formal for the evening. But I chalked it up as maybe a prized possession he couldn’t go without. Men were odd that way. I could tell from the size that it was probably a fey creature, and my heart was saddened by its death.
Earlsgaarde was quite taken with Gaven’s story and asked many questions about the hunt, and the way in which Gaven had taken his trophy.
Not in the least interested in the details of its gory death, I found myself studying the head table, drawn to Xander’s plight and pain.
When there was a lull in the conversation, and Earlsgaarde had gotten up from the table, I leaned to my left. “Why is there tension between Florin and Baist?” I whispered so only Gaven could hear.
“Do you not know the story?” he asked, wiping his mouth on a napkin and looking at me curiously.
“No, I don’t. I don’t get out much,” I said softly.
Gaven placed his hand on the back of my chair and leaned in to whisper in my ear like a lover would. “The queen of Florin and her child disappeared in the middle of the night. There were rumors, of course—they were kidnapped by pucas, eaten by trolls, or turned to dust by a witch. But the one that wouldn’t go away was that they were murdered at King Gerald’s command. The king of Florin has blamed Baist ever since, even though he can’t prove it. There’s no evidence of their death or kidnapping, so they’ve been at a delicate peace ever since.” He looked over at Earlsgaarde warily. “They’ve been sniffing around, trying to find a reason to break the treaty and declare war.”
“War would be awful.”
Gaven nodded. “Yes, Florin’s army is far greater than ours. The prince’s marriage to Yasmin Nueva would have strengthened our borders and kept Florin at bay, but now?” He shrugged. “Our small country could not withstand another war. We’ve barely recovered from the last one.”
I shook my head, knowing the advances Florin and the other kingdoms had over Baist. All of the magical weapons and artillery that were easily accessible but lacking in this kingdom. “Why are they here now?”
“Today is the eighteen-year anniversary of their disappearance.”
“How horrible,” I said, feeling a moment’s pity for the cruel prince.
Glancing up, I swallowed nervously when I met Xander’s angry glare. He was staring right at me, his brows furrowed in confusion. The angry tic in his jaw made me nervous. Uh-oh! Does he recognize me in my finery? Or is he staring at his enemies on my left?
My mouth went dry, and I became uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. I turned my head and tried to focus on Gaven, but I became increasingly aware of Xander. I could feel his gaze like a hot knife slicing along my skin, leaving me shivering. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw he hadn’t moved or shifted. I kept my back straight, refusing to look directly at him.
In a stalemate, the prince picked up his goblet, stood up, and dropped it. It clattered loudly on the stone floor, and every single head, including the emissaries’, turned to look at the prince—except for me. I took a sip of my own glass and kept my eyes forward. I was a coward. Nothing short of a fire would compel me to meet those heat-filled eyes.
Gaven seemed to notice Xander’s stare, as he asked me, “Do you know the prince?”
“We’ve met,” I answered.
“He hasn’t stopped staring at you for the last quarter mark. Have you done something to anger him?”
“I’m sure my very existence is enough to anger him, but as I said, he hardly knows me.”
“It seems you’ve caught his attention.”
“That does not bode well for me,” I grumbled.
The rest of dinner went relatively the same. After the meal, we were escorted into the ballroom, and I couldn’t help but feel a thrill at getting a second chance to partake in the festivities, as long as no one guessed my real identity. I was just one of the ladies, as far as anyone was concerned.
A fire breather caught me off guard, the heat of his breath brushing past my cheek. Laughing, I stepped around him, giving him a wide berth, and became enthralled with the jugglers and acrobats. As beautiful and elegant as the royal wedding was, the celebration tonight was far more wild and up-tempo in an attempt to impress the emissaries’ tastes from Florin. Clapping to the beat from the musicians, I joined in a line of women, and we weaved in among the dancers. Creating bridges with our hands, I smiled and pirouetted under them. My skirts swirling, my laughter filling the air, my joy was immeasurable as I counted this as the happiest day of my life. Who knew all it took for me to find happiness was for the country’s enemy to come pounding on their door?
No one in this room knew me as a daughter of Eville and a person to be feared. Here, I was nameless, one of them, and I belonged. Oh, how I’d always wanted to belong.
The music came to a halt and the crowd parted as Prince Xander strolled down the middle of the room toward me. His face was stony, and he seemed displeased with my presence.
Does he know it’s me—his wife? Did he find out I escaped my room? Or is he mad at me, the servant?
My hands covered my heart to stop its frantic thudding as I told myself to calm down.
The emissary stepped in front of him and bowed. “Prince Xander, I am Lord Earlsgaarde from Florin. It seems we have come at a most inopportune time. What we wish to discuss with you will wait until the morrow, but until then, will you honor us with a wedding dance?”
Xander’s face turned even darker, and he replied stiffly, “I fear I cannot.”
“Ah, are you hiding your new wife from us, then? I hear her beauty is that of legends,” Earlsgaarde teased, but I could hear the underlying challenge, knew he wanted to satisfy his curiosity and see which daughter the prince was married to.
“It is?” Xander said, obviously surprised, but then regained his composure. “As I said, I cannot, for my wife,” he said with derision, “has taken ill.”
“That’s too bad,” the emissary muttered, then brightened up. “Then choose a lady as proxy for her, and we will dance and toast to her quick recovery.”
Xander turned to walk away, but he caught my eye, and a cruel smile crept up into his lips. Then he nodded and turned back to the crowd. “Very well, I will celebrate my union by dancing with one of the ladies of the court.”
Squeals of laughter came from the crowd as a mob of women surged forward to present themselves as partners. That seemed to incite the multitude, and Gaven was briefly pushed from my side. Xander stepped up onto the musician’s platform and looked out among the ladies—searching, I’d bet, for a particular petite blonde.
With the current of women and onlookers rushing forth, it created a gap around me, and I stood out in the room alone, with little competition. Except I saw Yasmin, a sparkling jewel among the crowd. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, her dress pressed and unwrinkled; she must have had her ladies ironing and styling since before lunch.
Yasmin was parting the ladies and making her way toward him, her smile a little too confident. My blood boiled.
No, this dance was rightfully mine, not hers. And I would take it.
I raised my chin, smiled coldly and sent a whisper of command his way. It wasn’t much of a persuasion, as that wasn’t my true gift, but it was enough to get his attention.