The Ball #2
He watched the movement with a twitch to his full lips. Most of his face was hidden behind a velvet mask that resembled a raven’s wing, with undertones of navy in the black. His eyes were a startling shade of blue, like a clear pool of water reflecting a sunny day.
The stranger stepped closer, and I had to tip my head up to meet his eyes. “Others had no problem standing idly by,” he gestured to the crowd still bustling with dance.
I didn’t have an answer to that, so I merely shrugged. “It’s not in my nature, I guess, to allow the pain of others. If I can intercede—I will.”
“Is that what you’re doing over here on the fringes of the crowd? Making sure everyone stays safe?” He teased, and it had a grin splitting my face.
“I am but a guard for safety,” I jested in return, but my cheeks burned. I was grateful that my mask covered most of my embarrassment.
“Do you not enjoy dancing?” His eyes shifted from me to those partaking.
I cleared my throat, becoming slightly on edge with his piercing attention. “Oh, I love dancing,” I gushed, twisting my hands in front of me. “It’s just—”
“What?”
I couldn’t pull my gaze from his even if I wanted to. “No one has asked me.”
He lifted his hand in offering. “May I have this dance?”
I bit my lip and placed my hand in his. “Yes,” I breathed, my chest feeling tight like I couldn’t take a deep enough breath.
As he led us to the dance floor, an intense song began playing. The music rose and crested like a building wave and my heart pounded as he pulled my body taut against his.
“This is the national dance of Wimberley," he murmured, so close to my ear that my spine stiffened.
“I don’t know this dance,” I whispered, eyeing the movement of those around us. They separated and then came together again, their faces turned away from each other but their bodies pressed close.
“It’s a dance of passion,” he replied. “Just do what feels natural.”
My skirts mimicked a blossoming flower as he twirled me away from him. I sunk to a low crouch, with one leg outstretched behind me, our fingers still clasped. His eyes widened in astonishment before he tugged me back into his arms.
“Like that?” I asked, following his retreating steps with short ones of my own.
“That was perfect.” He smirked and changed our direction. “What is your name?”
“I’m Princess Colette, of Silver Hill, and you?”
His face was carefully blank, but there was a flash of something unreadable in the depths of his blue eyes. “Silver Hill, that’s not too far from here is it?”
He held one of my hands outstretched in the direction we headed, while the other was on my waist, but before I could respond, he brought my hand to his chest and slid his down my arm, to my lower back and tugged me ever closer. A thrill surged through me at our bodies meeting.
“Not at all,” I replied, trying my best to keep in step with him and not stumble at the close contact. He was a wonderfully skilled dancer, no doubt a noble or even a Prince, judging by the expertise of his movements.
Before I could ask his name again, he pressed gently on my right hip and I twirled away from him, my eyes locked onto his as we took slow, deliberate strides, circling each other.
He took a step towards me, and then another, sizing me up like a predator to prey.
The rest of the room faded away, until it was just us and the rising tempo of the violin.
“So what do you think of all this? For Prince August?” His voice was practically a purr and my hands shook lightly at my side, there was a warmth blooming in my chest and it was encompassing all of me.
I simply shrugged. “I’m just happy to be here. I’ve always wanted to journey to Wimberley.” His hands traveled up my waist before he gripped my hands and led us back into step.
“Oh, come now, you must have some kind of opinion of the prince?”
My grin had my mask shifting on my face. “I’ve heard the rumors, as has everyone else, that he’s extraordinarily handsome, but I think I would need to know more about his character to be able to comment on an opinion of him.”
There was a slight stutter in his steps as he glided us along. “So you care more about the contents of his heart than of his appearance?” There was an edge of bewilderment in his tone.
“Of course. Which is why I spoke with several of the servants and commoners on our way in.”
He cocked his head, and there was a tugging on his lips as if he was fighting back a smile. “And what did you learn?”
A giggle slipped out of me as I thought back to all the answers. “He’s made them feel seen and important. Which is a very wonderful thing. If you ask me, he’s got all the makings of a fine King … and husband. Whoever wins the trials will be very fortunate.”
The stranger seemed taken aback by my response judging by the slackening of his jaw. When he finally pulled himself together, he cleared his throat and twirled us in small circles.
“And what would you say about yourself?”
“Hmm?” I asked, tilting my head to the side, letting him spin me around like a leaf in the wind. The strains of music were drifting farther apart, and I knew the song was coming to an end.
“Would you say you have what it takes to be a wonderful ruler and wife?”
I found myself worrying my bottom lip and he halted our spin at once, his eyes beseeching mine. There was something so comforting and calming about his gaze on me.
“I would like to think so. I care—often too much—and try my best. What else is there that I can do?”
The song ended, and he leaned me into a low dip, his face coming within inches of mine.
My heart stopped as his wide smile crinkled the corner of his eyes, he cupped my face gently, and my breath caught in the back of my throat as he stroked his thumb over my bottom lip.
“It’s been a pleasure, Princess Colette …”
Then he was gone, slipping back into the shadows of the crowd, leaving my knees weak, and my head spinning. My heart raced and I placed a hand on my chest to temper its galloping speed.
I kept to the edges of the room the rest of the night, listening to all the surrounding conversations. A group of women about my age, all bejeweled and lavish with exquisite dresses, giggled. Apparently, the prince had spoken to one of them and had danced with another.
“He’s so dreamy,” the tall, lithe blonde sighed. “An excellent dancer. I felt as if I were flying.”
I smirked, looking down, and wondered if he had been as wonderful as the masked stranger who had swept me around.
“He told me he liked my dress!” Another squeaked, her hair the color of the red roses woven through the garlands. “And I told him I loved our kingdom.”
The blonde one slapped her on the shoulder. “You’re not even from here.”
The redhead rubbed her arm, the pale skin already flushed with the shape of a hand. “Ouch! He doesn’t know any better.”
I frowned, puzzled about why she would lie like that. A servant slipped through, carrying a tray of crystal champagne glasses, and in my attempt to get out of his way, I bumped into a beautiful woman with dark skin and kind eyes behind a silver mask.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
She wrapped a strong hand around my arm to steady me.
“Too much wine?” She asked with a laugh.
I grinned, but shook my head. “Too quick of servants.”
Her gown was lavish, the sapphire color enthralling when paired with her rich, dark skin, and an expertly styled updo left me in awe of her beauty.
“Hand-me-down?” she asked, with a sweep of her eyes. “Mine too,” she whispered.
“Yours is beautiful,” I breathed.
Her smile grew; a flash of bright, white teeth. “As is yours. I’m Princess Zuri.”