Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
“Stop fidgeting. You look stunning.” Rebeka patted my wrist, similar to the way someone would tap the nose of a misbehaving dog. “The dress is impeccable on you.”
Compulsion moved my fingers back to the top of the dress, tugging at the material, which barely covered the sides of my breasts.
Not that I needed much to cover the minimal boobs I had.
Genes and years of training had left my body very trim and flat.
So many women would gush over my slim build, saying how lucky I was for my “model” figure and looks, while I looked at their soft curves with jealousy.
I was all hard angles and coolness, nothing inviting or warm.
Many older men had told me how “sensual” they found me.
Even at a very young age, my confidence and appearance drew unwanted notice and touches.
I wasn’t oblivious to how I looked, the power it generated—I just didn’t care.
Men treated me more as something they wanted to conquer or possess, not truly love.
“You will turn many heads tonight, my dear.” Rebeka smiled softly at me, a deep sadness filling her brown eyes. The same deep brown as her son’s.
Rebeka was in her early forties and beautiful with her silky auburn hair, deep brown eyes, and full lips.
She was my height and trim, but she had the curves I always longed for, which were on display in her delicately ornate gown cinched around her small waist. The front was nearly transparent, with beads and jewels placed to catch the light and set perfectly to look glamorous and elegant instead of cheap.
Navy tulle descended from her waist to the floor, and her hair was pulled up in an intricate bun, diamonds dripping off her ears.
As a young girl, I used to idolize her. Wanted to be identical to her.
The older I got, the more I realized her perfection was a prison.
She was good at doing her duty as “queen” of Leopold.
Smiling, charming leaders and their wives, throwing the best parties and being the beauty standing at her husband’s side.
She wasn’t a silent partner, though; she could put at ease and relax even the most severe, bad-tempered person in the world.
Rebeka and Istvan made a good team. When he couldn’t get something from someone, she went in, and I had yet to see her fail, making me wonder how far she went to win.
She wasn’t clueless to her husband’s infidelity, but she never spoke of it.
Only in brief moments would I catch a vulnerability and sadness in her eyes.
But from little things I had picked up over the years, she didn’t let her bed grow cold either.
“You will do well tonight.” She tucked her arm in mine, guiding us to the ballroom.
“Do well?” I peered at her through my dark lashes.
“Before our independence from the Unified Nations, things were better for women here. Young ladies could marry freely, be whatever they wanted. The war changed that, moving us backward here. I hope someday we will have freedom again, but until then, many of us women do not dare to strive above the brunt of duty and circumstance. We wield our power in more subtle ways.”
Her fingers tightened on my arm, making me swallow over the growing lump in my throat. Where Istvan always criticized me, Rebeka was more caring. She wasn’t someone who baked cookies or played games with you, but she treated me with kindness. Sometimes even acted as a friend.
“I don’t understand.”
She stopped before the large double doors of the ballroom, impeccably dressed guards ready to open them for us.
She turned to me, and a sad smile softened her painted lips, her fingers swishing a strand of my long black hair over my shoulder.
Normally, it was straight, hitting my lower back, but Maja had curled it in loose waves, adding a few tiny jewels within the locks.
“You will soon.” Her lips pressed together. She shook her head slightly, rolling back her shoulders. “Now, lift up your beautiful face and show everyone in the room they can take nothing away from you. No matter what. Never apologize for how others react to your strength.”
My lungs fluttered at her odd speech. Rebeka had never been one for sentimentality or inspiring speeches. And she had never walked into a party with me, usually entering on the general’s arm.
Why tonight?
“Rebeka?” I searched her eyes, but they were walled up again, her pleasant hostess smile pinned on her face.
“It’s time.” She curved back, nodding at the guards.
The doors split open, revealing the breathtaking circular room.
Istvan used his sixteen-sided central hall as the “ballroom.” The guests arrived at the front entrance that led them through the jaw-dropping grandeur of the main hall, highlighted by old plated staircases, huge ornately curved ceilings, stained-glass windows, and glass fire-bulbs flickering on the gold lampposts lining the room.
Waiters and servants took coats and offered champagne while a small orchestra played on the upper landing, filling the room with music.
Then they were guided to the central hall, the gold starburst designed dome ceiling leaving the visitor stunned at the ostentatiousness of the room.
A huge orchestra sat on an upper level, where several full bars and tables of decadent food stood.
Tons of waitstaff mulled around with rich hors d’oeuvre and champagne.
Magic-influenced fire-bulbs and twinkle lights cast the room in a seductive ambiance. It never ceased to leave me breathless.
Heads snapped in our direction; Rebeka always made a memorable entrance. Now her eyes drifted to me.
“You leave them speechless, my girl,” she whispered to me. “Putty in your hands.” She squeezed my arm before ambling toward her husband.
Hundreds of eyes homed in on me, and I was overcome by the urge to turn around, go back to my room, and dive into my bed with a good book.
Sucking in a breath, I lifted my head, directing myself straight for a waiter carrying champagne. Swiping one off the tray, I guzzled half of it back when I spotted Caden across the room, leaning against the bar, his eyes on me.
His gaze felt heavy on my skin. Serious, but filled with something I had always hoped for.
Longing.
I had seen him in a suit or tux many times, and he always made my heart thrust into my throat. Tonight was no different. Dressed in a black tailored tux that fit his body perfectly, a glass of whiskey in his hand, he looked so beautiful I was almost speechless.
Sparkling bubbles danced in my stomach along with my nerves, magnifying like soap suds, causing my breath to gurgle.
He didn’t smile or move toward me, but similar to a magnet, I felt the tug between us. The spark in the atmosphere. A shift in our friendship.
Bodies moved all around me. Music and chatter weaved through the air. The smell of expensive perfumes and food reached my nose, but it all seemed far away.
Caden was all I saw.
I downed my glass of champagne, placed it on a passing tray, and moved toward him.
“Hey,” I barely squeaked out the greeting, my throat tight.
“Hey.” He set down his whiskey glass, his eyes still on mine, hazy with drink. Normally, Caden was too rigid in his training to drink much, wanting to always be at his best. So it was odd for him to get drunk.
Did this have to do with me? What he heard earlier?
My brain scrambled for something to say. I had always been able to talk to him. To tease and be myself around him. Was it because the connection was one-sided, and he only saw me as a friend? Standing before him now, my throat cinched up; no conversation came to my mind.
“You look amazing.” He cleared his throat, his attention moving down the gown. The bare skin between my breasts tingled.
When I had returned to my room after training, this gown had been laid out for me, telling me exactly what I was supposed to wear tonight. Usually, I had a few choices of exquisite gowns. This time there was one.
The floor-length gown was sensual and elegant at the same time.
Silvery translucent flowers decorated parts of the ultra-sheer champagne-colored fabric, leaving glimpses of skin everywhere.
The material sparkled under the lights like glitter.
The plunging neckline went to the base of my sternum and exposed my back, causing me to feel very bare, which was funny because I was practically naked in training all the time.
You became very comfortable with being minimally dressed when working out with a small coed group.
With genderless locker rooms, we had no room to be modest. I had no problem with my body.
I could handle walking around in boy shorts and a sports bra when training and be completely comfortable.
Now I felt uncomfortable—on display like some dessert.
“Thank you.” I grabbed the glass from his fingers, taking a sip, my gaze sliding to him. “Looking forward to when it comes off.”
His head jerked up, his eyes widening slightly.
Chagrin swam in my cheeks with the realization of what I said. “I mean—I didn’t—”
“I know.” A grin drew up his lips. “You’d rather be in workout clothes and tossing someone’s ass onto the mat, making them cry.”
“Now that sounds like my kind of party.” I smiled around the rim, taking another sip, the smoky flavor burning down my throat.
He snorted, shaking his head. “Guess I need to order another one for myself.” He nodded toward my hand. “Always the little thief.”
“You act as if you can’t just go behind the bar and take the whole bottle.” I rolled my eyes, motioning to the bartender.
“I could take everything here if I wanted.” He leaned into me, his mouth close to my ear, and my breath stalled in my lungs.
My gaze jumped to him, but I forced my expression to stay blank.
He stared at me, his intent penetrating me.
Holyshitholyshitholyshit.
“The same again, sir?” The bartender’s voice jolted me, and I sucked in sharply.
Caden nodded, holding up his fingers. “Two.”
“Yes, sir.” The guy bowed his head slightly, reaching for the private collection of whiskey. Imported from Scotland, it probably cost as much as my dress did, if not more. Everything from the West—from the Unified Nations—was expensive, which allowed only the rich to be able to procure these items.
We both stayed silent. Tension, which had never existed before, now dripped between us like heavy syrup. The bartender set down the glasses, his eyes darting between us with curiosity before he moved on to other guests.
“Caden . . .” I twisted to him.
“Don’t, Brex.” He stared down into his drink.
“It is taking everything I have not to go over and beat the shit out of that te geci.” Motherfucker.
His hands rolled up into balls, his glower stretching across the space to where Aron and all the different classes of cadets hung out, drinking and enjoying the night.
“The thought of you being with him . . .”
I turned to face the room, not knowing how to respond.
“I can’t believe you slept with that guy. He touched you.” Caden’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his jaw locking down. “He’s such a douchebag, and you let him . . .”
“I know what I did,” I snapped. Aron wasn’t my finest moment, a regret that I had to relive daily. I hated that he was my first, that he had something no one else would. But it was done, and in all honesty, I barely remembered it.
But what I did was my choice. My mistake. Caden had no right to judge or condemn me for it.
“When?” he croaked.
“Does it matter? It was a long time ago.” I slammed back a huge gulp of my drink, my eyes watering as it scorched down my throat.
“Brex.”
“It’s none of your business. And why do you care? Aren’t you fucking Lilla?” I glowered at him. “You aren’t my boyfriend. You have no say in what I do. Or who I do.”
He flinched, bowing his head. Then his lips spoke words so low I barely captured them. “What if I wanted to be?”
Like I had taken a punch to the ribs, fear halted my breath—fear I was mistaking the meaning of his words. Heard them wrong. Twisting to him, my chest puffed with tension as his gaze landed heavily on me. With want. Desire.
“Want to be what?” I whispered.
His gaze rolled over my body as he leaned in. “Want to be—”
“There you two are.” Istvan’s deep voice sliced through our bubble, jerking both of us toward him.
His stern expression showed nothing, but his steel eyes went back and forth between us, assessing us like a predator. Also dressed in a tux, Istvan looked every bit the ruler he was. Handsome, charismatic, ruthless, and arrogant.
“I expect you two to mingle and greet our guests, not hang out with each other as you do every day.” He spoke to us but continued nodding and shaking hands with admirers passing by who wanted to speak with the infamous leader. “I want you both to join me in welcoming Prime Minister Lazar.”
I straightened to my full five-feet-seven height, my stomach already twisting at the thought of conversing with strangers.
I learned to be good at it, but I hated it.
Since becoming Istvan’s ward, he expected me to play the part as a real daughter would.
Using both Caden and me like chess pieces, he strategically moved us around the room.
“These are very important people. I need you on your best behavior.”
“Then I probably should stay here.” My hand went to my stomach, where the whiskey and champagne now clashed.
Istvan’s gaze slid to me. “I believe I said both of you.”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded. The man could make a monster cower with that look.
Istvan took a breath and strode away.
My focus fell on Caden, longing for him to finish what he was going to say.
“Caden . . .”
“Not now, Brex.” He shook his head.
Pinching my lips, I exhaled. This night already felt too long.
“After you.” Caden motioned for me to go first.
All I wanted was to be alone with Caden. What was he going to say before his father cut him off? Did he want to be my boyfriend? Was he finally admitting there was something there?
Later, Brex, I chided myself. Just get through this damn night.
Drinking down the rest of my liquid courage, I rolled my shoulders back and followed Istvan, trying to shove away the gnawing urge to walk straight out the door.