“And I’ll help,” Gen chimed in, hastily opening the door to the hallway.
Gritting her teeth, Stella had to acknowledge the truth of that. Especially if they teamed up on her. She could use sorcery against them, but… who was she kidding? She wouldn’t do that to her friends.
“Astar is going to have an apoplectic fit when he sees me dressed like this.”
“I’ll handle Astar,” Zeph replied almost grimly. “The man means well, but he needs to get out of your way.”
The three of them—who’d bathed and dressed while they took turns on Stella’s transformation—flanked her through the halls. Everyone they passed stared at Stella. “I feel naked,” she muttered.
“You don’t look naked,” Gen reassured her.
“You just don’t like being the center of attention,” Zeph noted. “No playing the shy, retiring wallflower tonight. You, my darling Nilly, will be the belle of the ball.”
“It’s honestly past time you were,” Lena added with a warm smile. “Also, if and when you decide the crowd is too much for you, I imagine Jak will be happy to keep you company.”
“Obviously nothing will happen between us tonight,” Stella said, hearing the nerves in her voice, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
“Oh, I doubt it will be nothing,” Zeph crooned, batting her long lashes salaciously and still managing to look like the gríobhth as she did.
“But go at your own pace,” Gen advised. “I know Jak will respect that, but… take my advice and don’t rush things.”
“Oh, Gen. I’m so sorry.” Stella slowed, feeling Gen’s residual pain and shame over what had happened with Henk.
“No.” Gen held up her hands as if to fend Stella off. “Tonight is not about me. I’m sorry I said anything.”
The sounds of music and talking crashed out of the open arches leading to the ballroom gallery, and Stella thought longingly of the black alter-realm, with its utter absence of psychic energy.
“You don’t have to stay long,” Lena murmured in her ear. “Just try to have fun.”
Fun. Of all the things Stella thought about at social events like this—supporting Astar, keeping a finger on the emotional pulse of the various personalities, wondering when she could politely withdraw to the relative quiet of her rooms—trying to have fun had never been one of them. She nearly said she wasn’t sure how to do that, but decided it would sound pitiful.
Then she saw Jak, and all else faded away.
~ 18 ~
He’d clearly found new clothes in the largesse provided by Queen Nix, as he wore a close-fitting suit of black velvet that showcased his dark eyes and lean build. A froth of white lace failed to soften his jawline, his beard neat and glossy. Spotting their arrival, he spun, showing off the flowing tails of his jacket, then struck a pose—abruptly spoiled when Zeph and Lena stepped aside to leave Stella with no one to hide behind.
Jak froze, goggling at her, his mouth actually falling open.
Behind him, Astar also stared—though with a decidedly different expression on his face—and started toward her, halted when Rhy seized his arm in a firm grip. Giving Stella a smug smile, Zeph swooped over to take Astar’s other arm, the pair of them forcibly escorting her brother away. Lena and Gen followed, giving her little waves of encouragement.
Stella hovered where she was, feeling quite lightheaded and definitely naked, especially with the way Jak stared at her, his gaze raking her from head to foot and traveling up again. Recovering his poise, he glided up to her and bowed, dark eyes full of the emotions he held tightly controlled. “May I?”
He offered a hand, and she placed hers in his, bracing herself for the flood of his thoughts and feelings. But he was restrained, only the warmth of his admiration reaching her. Brushing a kiss over the back of her hand, he straightened. “You are always beautiful, my star, but tonight…” He took a deep and shaky breath, then smiled ruefully. “You are both breathtaking and so stunning that I have no breath to speak the words that wouldn’t do you justice anyway.”
“Those were pretty good words,” she replied, hearing the hitch in her own voice.
“Is this for me?” he asked, letting his gaze run over her again, his gaze like a caress on bare skin.
“Yes,” she acknowledged. “Courtesy of Zeph, as I’d never have been so bold on my own.”
“I knew I loved that naughty shapeshifter,” he mused. “And look at us, you in white and me in black. We’re a matched pair.”
“More like polar opposites.”
“That explains the magnetic attraction.” He raised a hand to a passing servant and snagged them two flutes of sparkling wine. Passing one to her, he lifted his in a toast. “To the most beautiful woman in the world.”
She blushed, of course. “We both know that’s my mother, not me.”
“You are to me,” Jak replied with frank honesty, still with his flute poised, waiting for her to seal the toast. “You’re everything to me. The sun, the moon, and the brightest star in the sky.”
She had to laugh and clinked her glass to his. “I notice you’ve found some smooth words again.”
“You inspire me.” He smiled broadly, sipping his wine as she did.
The golden effervescence spilled over her tongue, bright and delicious. To her surprise, she realized she was having fun, and she hadn’t even had to think about how to do so.
“Would you dance with me?” Jak asked. “Or would you prefer to stay out of the crush?”
How well he understood her. She gazed ruefully at the crowded dance floor, just the sight of it warning her of the headache she’d get if she plunged herself amid all those people. A headache was the last thing she want to have that night. Maybe she could stand it, for the opportunity to dance with Jak. But first things first. “I should present myself to King Cavan and Queen Nix,” she said. “Her Majesty would expect me to do so.”
“Of course.” Jak presented her with his arm, and she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow. “Astar has already presented himself, so I should’ve realized that would be the first thing you’d want to do also.” He deftly maneuvered them through the outskirts of the crowd, neatly deflecting anyone who came too close to touching her. She never even sloshed her wine, he moved so smoothly. “I’ll remember that for the future,” he added, dimples showing as he smiled at her. The gold hoop in his ear glinted, incongruous with the somber attire—and oddly perfect, too.
“You don’t have to do this, Jak.”
He slid her a curious look. “Don’t have to what?”
“Don’t have to… make a study of me,” she replied with a helpless shrug. “Don’t have to accommodate all of my obligations and odd ways.”
“You’re not odd.”
“Oh, come on, Jak,” she said, laughing, feeling so utterly self-conscious. “I know how strange I am. Another woman would’ve jumped at the chance to dance with you.”
“Good thing I don’t want another woman, then,” he replied easily. “And you’re not strange.”