Chapter 22 #2
A pair of brown leather boots appear in my field of vision and an open hand, and I look up to see who is offering their assistance.
Prince Amir, of course, I shouldn’t be surprised that he would be the first to offer me his hand.
The smile pulling at my lips is wide and grateful, and I momentarily forget that we are surrounded and the aching in my limbs.
Unfortunately the moment is broken by his father clearing his throat.
Amir’s touch lingers; his gaze making me feel as though we are somewhere else, somewhere that we can just be and enjoy each other’s company and not worry about being watched.
This isn’t the case, of course, but my heart is light in my chest and I feel…
different. Is this how I would always feel if I had grown up in different circumstances?
Lips parting, Amir looks as though he’s going to say something, only his eyes shutter at the last moment.
He releases my hand, following the silent order to return to his father’s side and I stare at his retreating back in confusion over the twisted feelings I’m experiencing.
Clasping my hands together, I attempt to look comfortable and not like I’m pining the touch of the prince.
Slowly, as though he has all the time in the world, the king pushes up from his throne and looks around the room, assessing his people.
He looks satisfied, soaking in their attention and bows of respect.
Is he dragging this out on purpose because he knows I’m uncomfortable as the centre of attention?
The king’s eyes move to me. Yes, I was right, he smug smile tells me he is doing this to unnerve me.
“That,” Kit’s voice whispers in my mind, “and the fact he loves to be the centre of attention.”
My spine turns to iron, freezing me in place.
My mind twinges as if flinching from his voice, and my thoughts fog.
Why am I reacting like this? Kit speaking into my mind usually makes me frustrated, not distant and uncomfortable.
It is probably to do with my current location.
Can they tell that I am hearing a demon in my mind?
It doesn’t matter that I am bringing them magic, if they discover my deal with Kit, I will be burnt at the stake.
He feels so close when he speaks into my mind like this and I shake off the feeling of him watching me.
Thankfully I know that’s not possible as he couldn’t be around this many humans without being recognised for what he is.
“Welcome to my court, Lady Kiara.”
I’m snapped out of my stupor by the king’s voice, fear fluttering through my veins and coming to rest in my throat. The feeling is strange, as though a butterfly is trapped there, and I couldn’t talk even if I wanted to.
The king has moved on now, his focus on the nobility gathered close.
“It is a great honour to house someone so gifted.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he gestures toward me.
“The gods have blessed us with her presence, and she will be staying with us from now. Not only that, she is saving us in our time of need. Lady Kiara has the ability to harness power from crystals.”
So that is how he’s explaining it to everyone.
I notice how careful he is not to mention magic, or that I can supposedly produce magic, only that I harness the natural power in crystals.
For so long the citizens of the city have believed magic is bad, even if much of the nobility know it is necessary.
However, these fears can go deep and the king won’t want my name associated with magic if he’s trying to keep the selfless image he’s painting me with.
It is a smart story and if it wasn’t all a huge lie, I would be impressed.
His act is pretty convincing. If I was watching, I would think that the King and myself were good friends, helping each other out in a time of need.
Surprisingly, I almost think his gratitude is genuine.
He is happy that I am here to save his ass, he just hates who I am and where I come from.
“This ability will help us to keep the city alive, safe and thriving.” The king continues, his arms wide and welcoming. “You are all to treat her with the same respect you would show a member of my family.”
I feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me and the golden band around the top of my arm, many of them only now noticing my new rank.
Whispers begin once more, and the King does nothing to quieten them.
I am sure it works in his favour to have everyone wanting to know more about me, whispers circling.
After a short time, he raises his hand and the room falls silent.
“Tonight, we throw this ball in Lady Kiara’s honour.” His announcement is loud and several of the lords shout out in excitement, raising fists into the air. Startling, I glance around, as I have no idea what’s going on.
“In Rune, we honour our special guests with a ball, the first dance of which is with the King.” Smiling, he chuckles slightly, as do several other males, but I don’t understand the joke.
“However, my son has requested that honour. It might not be a dance with a king, but the crowned prince is a pretty good alternative.”
Staring at the king I wait for him to say he’s joking.
He has to be, right? However, the pause in the room tells me he’s not.
He may be trying to play off his comment as a joke, but I hear the off note in his voice.
Dancing with a prince is a dishonour when I could be dancing with him instead.
The words don’t leave his mouth, but the truth rings clear in the silence.
Even the watching nobles sense it and start shifting awkwardly.
I look to Amir and his expression hasn’t changes, he just watches me, as though this is not the first time he’s heard words like this from his father.
Anger stirs in my gut. This won’t have been the first time he’s spoken about his son like this.
The prince is one of the kindest males I have ever met and seems to genuinely care for his people.
I would rather dance with Amir anytime over dancing with his father.
In fact, the idea of the king touching me makes me feel physically sick and I’m sure he notices my visible shudder.
The pause continues longer than before and I realise that he’s waiting for an answer. What am I supposed to say? The longer I withhold an answer, the more it would appear that I am debating my options. If I say what I truly think, it would get me thrown in the dungeons.
“Do you accept, Lady Kiara? Or would you prefer to dance with me?”
To most, it might look as though the king has decided to take pity on me and prompt my response, but I know better. His smirk and raised eyebrow only serve to stir my anger, but I won’t allow it into my expression as that will please him.
Turning my attention to Prince Amir, I let my smile reach my eyes as I clear my throat. “I shall accept the honour and dance with the prince.”
Amir smiles back at me and my heart stops in my chest for a moment.
He really is one of the most handsome men I have ever seen, and when he smiles at me like this, I feel weak at the knees.
He steps toward me before his father can comment and bows formally.
I return the gesture with a curtsy and I am barley standing as he takes my hand in his, whisking me out onto the dance floor as through he cannot wait one more moment to have me in his arms.
It’s a great fantasy and I allow myself to get lost in his gaze as my shirts whirl around me.
We both know exactly what this is; a fantasy, a show put on for the nobles.
That doesn’t mean that I cannot enjoy myself in the meantime.
Whispers buzz around us and I know we are only inflaming the gossip mongers; in fact I am sure they are already concocting rumours about a secret romance between the prince and I.
Taking our place in the middle of the dance floor, music swells around us and we get into position.
Suddenly a sense of panic grips my heart and all of my previous determination disappears in a flash.
What am I doing here and why do I feel so distant, like a part of me is missing?
This is madness, there is no way that all of these people are going to believe I am royalty.
However, I am too far into this now. Anxiety makes my chest is tight and I have to concentrate to make sure I get into the correct hold.
I am hyperaware that everyone is watching us and I’m terrified that they will see through my disguise.
One morning learning to dance is not going to make me a pro, especially when this still feels so unnatural to me.
My eyes lock with Ella’s over his shoulder and I feel something settle inside me. She looks so happy, her eyes gleaming as she watches me. I need to do this for her, and this is something I can do.
The music builds and Amir seamlessly pulls us into the dance at the correct place.
Thank the gods I had time to practice earlier because he would have to drag me around otherwise.
Even so, I feel like I’m half a step behind and struggling to keep up.
Brows furrowed, I am using so much of my concentration on not tripping that I’m hardly registering that I’m pressed against the crown prince.
“Relax,” he whispers in my ear, almost making me miss a step.
“How am I supposed to do that, your highness, when everyone is watching us?” I ask through gritted teeth, trying to count the beat in my head and keep on time.
“You are overthinking it.”
Well, that is an understatement if I have ever heard one. Of course I am. There are so many steps I have to remember, all the while not tripping over my skirt or cape, on top of everything else I’m worrying about.