Chapter 27 #2
Palm to palm, Kas gave her hand another squeeze.
He may have meant to reassure her, but his action had quite the opposite effect, drawing forth a billion butterflies from low in her stomach. Mistress?
No!
Della and Ataht took up their posts, and like Kas, they were dazzled by Nes’s additions to the already exquisite decor.
Floating crystalline creations glittered amongst the foliage and hovered above their heads, catching light from the enormous candelabra and scattering it around the room.
Dainty butterflies that matched those on their dresses flitted about, and waves of tiny flower petals drifted from nowhere, down to the floor, where they disappeared into nothingness rather than litter the pristine parquet.
“Thank you for coming to our Summer Ball,” Princess Della greeted Kas and Nesrina as if they hadn’t all been standing together in the hall moments ago.
A queen in the making, she mused.
“Yes, thank you duke, my lady,” Prince Ataht added, elevating Nesrina from miss to an elusive lady for the evening ahead.
She chuckled as she curtsied, and when she was done, Kas, still holding her hand, helped her stand as the tiny royals greeted the next couple in line, bestowing them with elaborate and fanciful titles.
Aylin, who’d turned up in very fine men’s attire, was named the Earl of Dragon’s Tail. Thera was Baroness of Fae River.
When they had finished their round, the twins took their place in the center of the dance floor, as was tradition for the hosts of any formal event in their land. The staff, nannies, and tutors began to pair off and step onto the central floor.
“Lady Kiappa of Kahovirib,” Kas addressed her with a false title, one that incorporated the Old Tongue name for Stormhill. It sent an earthquake shivering through her as he spun her to face him. “May I have this dance?”
“Certainly, my lord.” She graced him with the tiniest of very sincere but very confused smiles, and they stepped onto the floor.
With no warning whatsoever the sonata shifted into a decidedly romantic waltz, and Nesrina squinted up at the ceiling, trying to decide if the candles actually dimmed as the music changed time.
The Lord of Stormhill took the Lady of Kahovirib in his arms, his left hand never having left hers in the first place.
Her palm found a spot on his firm bicep.
She couldn’t comfortably reach his shoulder, not with his height.
He, however, with his outrageously long arms, slid his hand down further and further until it came to rest above the small of her back.
Nesrina shivered when Kas pulled her in closer, curling over her and twirling her along to the music of his own making. Leaning down, with his breath hot against her skin, he whispered, “I told you I would.”
She almost told him that wasn’t a harpsichord, but it felt like an inappropriate time.
The evening was perfect, aside from her internal anxieties.
Nes noticed Aylin, the earl, twirling Baroness Thera around the dance floor, and made a mental note to ask Kas about that later.
The twins wanted to dance long past their bedtime, and so, after having kept the lords and ladies for several hours already, Lord Kahoth dismissed them all, except for Nes.
She could’ve questioned that, but she was responsible for half the decorations, and she’d stay as long as the children needed.
“One more dance, please?” Della pleaded with Kas as she stood atop his previously shiny black dress shoes.
“One more dance.” He nodded, and a charming smile widened his mouth, softening his angular face.
He’ll make a wonderful father someday. Nesrina stumbled, quite literally, over the image that cropped up in her mind, nearly knocking over the prince who was leading her in dance.
Stop thinking about that. She found her footing again as the duke’s magic coaxed a new tune from the pianoforte.
In an attempt to distract herself from those sorts of impossible thoughts, she set her own mind on Kas’s music-making magic.
As Ataht twirled her around the dance floor, she wondered if Kas had to memorize the notes for every song he encouraged the instrument to perform?
Would his eventual children share his air magic?
Did he simply impress his mood upon the instrument to encourage a tune?
Would he prefer to be called Dad, or would he be open to something different?
Did he have to request a specific piece by title and composer?
When the last notes of that final song faded from the room, Kas sent a burst of air up toward the chandelier, extinguishing each of the candles but leaving the wall sconces untouched. Their soft glow filtered through her dancing ice-crystals, sending sparkles cascading across the ceiling.
“Oh, it’s lovely.” Nes could hear the smile in the princess’s sleepy voice.
“Like the stars came down to play!” Ataht added excitedly, using the last of his energy for little bounces. Weighed down by sleep, he attempted to grasp the elusive magical lights.
“Come, you’ve had a long night. Let’s get you to bed,” Lord Kahoth commanded in a decidedly fatherly tone, pulling Della up into his arms and reaching out his other hand for Ataht.
The prince was reluctant to leave her side. “Can’t we stay here longer? A little while?”
Kas shook his head.
“Please, Miss Kiappa?” Ataht tried his luck with her.
She chuckled, as if her opinion would outweigh the duke’s. It was irrelevant though; in this situation they were of the same mind. “It’s time for bed, little prince.”
His shoulders sagged.
“Come on, I’ll walk you upstairs. Tell me your favorite part of the evening.” Her coaxing worked, and he agreed to go to bed.
Nes and Ataht began the procession toward the hall with Kas and the princess on their heels. It took a bit longer than normal to climb the great curving staircase as the prince’s sleepy feet set their pace, but they made it to the top eventually and turned right toward the twins’ bedrooms.
“Miss Kiappa,” the duke’s low baritone cut through the quiet. “Would you swap with me and help the princess get ready for bed? I probably should have considered this before giving their nannies the rest of the night off.”
He looked sheepish as he made the request, and she couldn’t help but return his smile. “Of course.”
Once Della was changed and tucked neatly under the covers, Nes slipped out of the room and found Lord Kahoth standing on the landing, watching her, waiting for her—maybe. She wasn’t sure if this was goodnight or if he wanted her to join him, so she stalled outside Della’s door.
Silently, he went to the railing and looked down into the ballroom. Something in his stance still felt inviting, even with his back turned.
“So,” the duke began, still facing away.
“So,” she responded, her feet taking her to his side. Nes grasped the smooth wood and trained her eyes on her decorations, still flitting around the room. She coaxed a cornflower blue butterfly over and landed it on her fingertip.
With his feet walked back and his arms grasping the railing, Kas’s head was level with hers.
She could lean in and— Stop it, Nes.
“Thank you. The children enjoyed themselves tonight.”
“And you?” His eyes searched her face.
What does he want?
“I enjoyed myself, too.” She meant it. In spite of her confliction, she’d happily return to the ballroom, let him take her in his arms, and waltz to his ethereal music beneath the warm lights until the sun rose over the east.
“Good.”
“Good,” she repeated, apparently only able to parrot when distracted by the glow of candlelight against his stubbled jaw.
“Yes, good. Tonight was for you and me as much as it was for the twins. And you look beautiful, Nes.” His stance was still casual, his words anything but. Her heart fluttered, her stomach fluttered, her . . . well, she was fluttering everywhere.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Shall I escort you to your room?” Low and husky, his question held significant weight.
Mistress, her subconscious hissed.
She absolutely did not need an escort to her room. The door was hardly more than twenty feet away. She wanted it though, and she could say yes . . . but if she did, she knew she wouldn’t let him leave. Then she’d hate herself for compromising—everything.
“I think I can find it myself.” With a wink, Nes pushed off the railing and released her hold on the ballroom decor, which disappeared in a series of pops.
“Gods,” Kas sighed as she walked away. “I’ll convince you. I’m going to make you mine.”
“Right,” she scoffed, positive she’d made the right choice. She would not be his damn mistress.