Chapter 27
twenty-seven
Nesrina goes to a ball.
Morning sunlight streamed into her chamber, and Nes pulled a pillow over her face as she reconsidered whether or not she should be allowed to make decisions, ever.
It was a good compromise. She nodded into the down.
It wasn’t him, but it was.
It was a great compromise, wise or not. With a huff, Nes tugged down her nightdress that had climbed above her bottom during her nighttime adventure.
She was still so tightly coiled that her knuckles against her thighs sent a shiver to her core, reminding her of the way Kas had wrapped his magic around her hips and dipped into there, twice now, with air wound nearly solid.
But she wanted the real thing, she wanted the weight of him inside her, plunging into her.
Lost to her daydreams, her fingers found their way beneath her nightgown, en route to a private destination. A few minutes later, with newfound clarity and a flicker of shame burrowing into her belly, she dragged herself out of bed and plodded to the washroom.
Ugh, you cannot allow this. Nesrina tossed her head back as she cleaned her teeth.
You will not be a mistress to a duke! Get it together.
It was high time to nip the situation with Lord Kahoth in the bud.
They’d be leaving soon for holiday, and she may not return.
It was best if everything ended now. Nesrina gave herself a resolute little nod and rinsed her mouth.
It was with pure willful ignorance of her fully bloomed feelings that she set about her day.
Aylin’s familiar rap sounded on the bedroom door, then the woman herself slipped quietly into the chamber. Nes glanced up from her book to find Aylin setting a bundle on the chest at the end of the bed. Then she turned and scurried out without so much as a “good afternoon.”
Curious, Nesrina hopped up and made her way over to the new delivery. A folded piece of parchment lay atop the wrapped box, demanding her attention. Taking the package back to her sitting area, she peeled the nondescript seal from the note.
Nes, humor me.
Please wear this.
Yours, Kas
In a postscript, he offered a better explanation:
P.S. I’d like to grant Della’s wish to match you at this evening’s Summer Ball. It may not be your style, but it’s most certainly hers.
She chuckled at the way he capitalized Summer Ball, as if the children’s party was the event of the season. Smiling, her finger lingered on his name, scrawled so casually across the page.
Yours? Oh my.
Perhaps it wasn’t going to be a simple feat for Nesrina to end whatever had developed between her and the duke. She wasn’t an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but she was comfortable admitting the situation spilled far beyond the bounds of a standard, run-of-the-mill friendship.
Tamping down her intrusive subconscious, who kept murmuring mistress over and over again, Nesrina picked up the box from Lord Kahoth and set about unwrapping the paper.
When the final drops of sunlight faded away and the clock struck seven, Aylin finished fastening the buttons up the back of Nes’s dress, then slipped from the room.
The gown from Lord Kahoth was . . . astonishing; all so she could match his adorable niece and make the princess’s wish come true.
That’s the reason why. Not because you’re a mistress, she tried to convince herself for the umpteenth time.
It was a masterpiece; an earthy green gauze embroidered with butterflies in shades of purples and blues.
The fabric, embellishments, and billowing skirt were fit for a princess, the Princess Della, in fact.
The pattern was a tad juvenile for Nesrina’s tastes, but the cut?
She assumed Della’s dress would not be a direct match.
The neckline was so low that, coupled with her stays, it left her breasts barely covered, hefted up to her chin. It was so close to scandalous that Nes wasn’t sure she should wear it in front of the children, but there was no time to change. And to be honest, she looked fantastic.
The twins’ chatter squeezed in through the gap under her door as they made their way down the grand stairs. So, she hurried after them.
“Ohh, Miss Kiappa, you look like a princess,” Ataht called out as she descended to the grand hall. The duke was crouched down, facing his nephew to re-tie the prince’s cravat.
“Why, thank you. You look like quite the young man tonight, Prince Ataht.” The boy stood taller, grinning at her over the top of his uncle’s head. “Princess Della, you look fantastic too. I love your gown.” She curtsied to them both, playing into the formal mood.
“Thank you, Miss Kiappa. We match,” Della replied, beaming at the last part, admiration shining in her eyes. And match they did, all except for their necklines, as Nes had suspected.
“Uncle Kas, isn’t she beautiful?” Della tapped him, and he glanced at her before standing to his full height and turning to face Nesrina.
She’d never cease to be surprised by how damn tall he was.
Behind him, Ataht bodily inspected his freshly re-tied cravat, undoing much of Lord Kahoth’s recent work.
“Don’t you think?” Della looked up at her uncle.
Following the princess’s gaze, Nes looked to the duke, expecting that pinched lip expression he loved to bring out in pleasant company. What she didn’t expect was his gaze upon her, a deep longing softening his eyes, and a small smile playing on his lips.
“She is beautiful,” Kas responded without looking away from her.
Suddenly self-conscious beneath his penetrating stare and the weight of a thousand years of social structure, Nes broke eye contact, focusing on the blue and yellow tiles.
“Shall we?” Kas asked, extending two arms to the twins and flashing her a wink she fought to ignore.
Over dinner, the duke shared that he had a surprise. Not only would their tutors and nannies be joining them that night, he’d also added many members of his household to the guest list. The prince and princess shrieked so loud Nes had to cover her ears.
Lord Kahoth claimed it was so the twins could enjoy larger group dances common at court.
No matter his rationale, it was a lovely gesture, a wonderful way to make the evening more memorable for the kids.
She told him as much, friend to friend, of course.
It wouldn’t be wise to think of how well fatherly behavior fit the man.
Struck with a sudden idea, and desperate for a moment alone to reel in her unspooling thoughts, Nes excused herself from the table and ducked out via the side doors.
Alone in the corridor, she kicked off her slippers and ran.
It was satisfying to give in to her baser instincts for a moment, though her flight wasn’t long.
When she was returning to the dining room, trying to pretend she’d been in the washroom, Nes found the duke and twins walking toward her.
She was too late, and they were already on their way to the ballroom.
At least she’d done what she wanted. All was well.
Except for the fact that the duke was carrying her bloody shoes.
“Thought you might need these,” he whispered, waggling them just out of reach. Nes jumped and snatched the slippers from Kas’s hands before sliding them onto her feet, one at a time, hopping along as she followed the trio ahead of her.
She didn’t want to pause and risk missing the children’s reaction to the ball they’d dreamt up.
Luckily, or perhaps because he was more astute than she gave him credit for, Lord Kahoth moved ahead of the kids. He blocked their view of the ballroom through the glass doors while offering Nesrina a moment to catch up and join him.
She flashed him a grateful smile, then they opened the double doors together, unveiling the magical space beyond.
The duke had done a great deal to bring the austere ballroom up to the children’s standards.
Large vases and pots bearing flowering plants and palms had been peppered about the space, softening its previously empty angular corners.
Swaths of vines and other greenery hung above the doors and windows.
And an elaborate-looking pianoforte, brought in for the night, sat upon a temporary stage at one end of the room.
Several members of the staff were already there—had been there when she’d rushed in a moment ago—awaiting their arrival.
“Remember, walk in, pause, and wait to be announced. Then, stand to the side of the doors. As your guests come through the receiving line, thank them for attending,” Lord Kahoth reminded the twins.
The Duke of Stormhill turned and offered his escort, and Miss Nesrina Kiappa, tutor, accepted with grace.
She’d expected that. What she didn’t expect was for him to take her by the hand, rather than offer an arm, giving her fingers a squeeze.
Glancing up, she found him surveying the ballroom, agog like a little boy at the wonder she had created.
Thera announced the two of them, and Kas led Nes across the wide-open dance floor, flicking his free hand almost imperceptibly at the large pianoforte as they went. The unmanned instrument began to play a delightful sonata.
Her mind wandered back to the inn in Rohilavol. “If only I had a harpsichord . . .” Was he going to make good on that promise to dance?
“The Prince and Princess of Selwas,” Thera boomed, her voice enhanced by someone’s air magic as the adorable duo entered the room.
A smattering of applause from the staff-turned-guests greeted the young royals.
Nesrina attempted to join, but when she tried to withdraw her hand from Lord Kahoth’s, he held tight and declined to let her go.
Her heart flipped. It was so public! Sure, they were in his home, but servants gossiped. Fates, everyone gossiped. What was she to do, though, yank her hand away and make a scene? That wouldn’t do.
Nes exhaled quickly through her nose before holding her head a little higher. You are not and will not be a mistress! This is purely for the children.