“I’m as strange as they come. That’s why I’ve never—” She broke off, unwilling to expose herself even more.
Halting their progress, he drew her into an unpopulated corner. A pretty palm tree had been planted in a large pot, seeming to flourish there. Jak took her empty flute—when had she drained it?—and set it aside with his. Taking both her hands in his, he studied her face intently. “Why you’ve held off your admirers,” he finished for her. “Why you’ve never let any of them get close enough to be noticed by you, let alone admitted to the intimacy of your friendship.”
She opened her mouth and closed it. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“No,” he agreed. “I imagine you were about to say something like that’s why you’ve never been open to romance, because you think you’re destined to live your life alone, like some sort of sorcerous hermit.”
That came uncomfortably close to the truth. “I am able to see my own future,” she told him, pulling at her hands.
He let her go and set his hands on his narrow hips, sweeping back his jacket to do so, smiling knowingly as she couldn’t help remembering the body beneath the clothes. “Have you looked lately?”
“Ah, I—” she stammered, blushing hotly. Truly, she should resign herself to a permanent blush. Belatedly she realized he didn’t mean looking at him.
His dark eyes sparkled with amusement, seeing through her predicament. “At your future,” he clarified helpfully. “Have you looked at your future lately?”
She frowned. “I don’t have to.” And she didn’t want to. The lonely tower in the field of lilies frightened her. For the first time, she considered how unnatural that landscape was, with a chill of foreboding, it occurred to her that it might be an alter-realm.
No wonder it felt like that future loomed ever closer.
“Stella, my love.” Jak kept his hands off of her but edged her deeper beneath the cover of the potted palm. Her back hit the wall—the cool stone reminding her how bare it was—and she shivered at the look in Jak’s eyes. Much better than the chill of that lonely future. “I may not be a sorcerer, or a very good student, but I paid attention to any of the lessons that helped me understand you better. I know very well that the future can change, that our actions and decisions change it.”
“What are you saying?” she breathed, wondering if he’d kiss her right there in the ballroom. And if she’d let him.
Or if she’d give in to the heat between them and kiss him.
His lashes lowered as his gaze swept down, no doubt noticing her tightly peaked nipples. “Maybe you should look,” he murmured.
She did—and saw that the gown left nothing to the imagination. Her breasts stood out taut, nipples straining, as if begging for Jak to notice them. With a groan of mortification, she clasped her hands to cover her breasts.
He laughed, gently tugging her hands away. “I meant look at your future,” he teased. “Please don’t cover yourself. You look gorgeous. I only have one problem with this gown.”
“That it leaves nothing to the imagination?”
“Oh, it leaves plenty to the imagination,” he assured her, “in the best possible way. But then, I have an excellent imagination. I do not, however, see your daggers on you.”
She groaned in exasperation. “Seriously?”
He regarded her with absolute seriousness. “Yes. You should be armed at all times.”
“At a ball.”
“Perfect time to take you by surprise.”
“Where would I put daggers in this dress?” she demanded.
He leaned in close, his voice an intimate whisper. “I’m happy to help you find hiding places.”
“I’ll just bet you are,” she muttered, and he laughed. “I suppose you’re wearing blades?”
“A few,” he replied with a grin.
“Well, I have my other weapons,” she informed him archly. “Invisible sorcerous ones.”
“Have you been practicing those, then?” he asked with a suspicious glint in his eye.
“Some,” she admitted, then grimaced. “Not enough.”
Nodding, he didn’t chastise her. “We can work on that tomorrow, since we’ll be cooling our heels here another day or two. I can come up with some dummies for you to practice on, so you won’t be worrying about hurting anyone.”
“That could work.” She smiled, grateful for his thoughtfulness.
“Ready to face the royal lions?”
“I suppose I’d better,” she said on a sigh as he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm again, escorting her out from the shelter of the potted palm.
“You’ll dazzle them,” he promised. “And while I know you don’t wear anything this revealing as a rule, it’s truly tamer than what most court ladies wear.”
“That’s my point: I am not most court ladies.”
“No, you’re a princess destined to be a queen,” Jak agreed easily. “Which means, to continue our earlier conversation, that I’m perfectly happy to make a study of you, as you put it. If I’m going to have a place in your life, then I plan to be good at it.”
They were approaching the dais where King Cavan and Queen Nix sat on their thrones, heads bent together in some intimate exchange. With her hair white as snow and his silver-threaded black, they looked like an echo of what Jak had said about the two of them, a black and white matched pair. “Jak…” She took a deep breath. “I love you, but I don’t know if there’s a place for you in my life.”
There, she’d gotten it out. She’d been honest with him, even if she had equivocated more than she meant to.
Unperturbed, Jak patted her hand. “I know that’s what you think. That’s why I intend to carve one out.” He slid her a cocky grin. “I’m an excellent bladesman.”
“I know that,” she gritted out, “but Jak—”
“Ah-ah-ah.” He wagged a finger at her. “We agreed to no ‘but Jaks’ unless there’s whiskey involved.”
“I never agreed to that.”
“You did, tacitly.”
“Choosing not to argue with you isn’t the same as tacit agreement.”
“It’s a lot like not drawing your blades to defend yourself when something attacks you,” he replied, sliding her a pointed look. “If you want a different outcome, you’ll have to take a stand.”
“You’re impossible,” she hissed as the royal couple’s seneschal waved them forward.
“Not at all. I’m possible. Very possible. Even probable.” He set a hand on the small of her back and slipped behind her. “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”
Composing herself, Stella moved forward and inclined her head to the king and queen of Erie. The etiquette involved was a bit hazy. They were subject to the high throne, but Astar was crown prince still, not high king—and regardless, Stella was his sister and though generally expected to be queen of Annfwn someday, she didn’t have much in the way of her own rank. Even if she did, presumptive someday queen of an equivalent kingdom to theirs didn’t match their current rank.