Chapter Five #2
I discard my shoes with two kicks, ignoring the fact that my dress is now a few inches too long, and let him lead me to the centre of the crowd.
People clear a pathway for their princess, gawping at us walking hand-in-hand along the route to the middle of the dancefloor they have created.
Men shoot glares to the duke, most likely envious that he has secured the first dance with the most eligible and desirable bachelorette in the whole of Reyhen.
Ansel beams at me as if he knows full well the value of the prize he has won.
I humble myself with the thought that it is not me that they all desire the most here, but the title I secured just this morning.
Without it, I am simply a girl who knows very little about herself or her kingdom.
A girl who is yet to find meaning in it all.
The music stops at our entrance, the musicians waiting for the duke and I to take our positions before beginning a new piece. A waltz.
He is gentle as he slips an arm around my waist, the action makes my stomach flutter, and I mirror the movement, quelling my hesitation to hold him to me with a forced confidence that does not indicate the fact that this is the first time I have ever engaged in a dance with a man.
Lillienne had to fill in for the role of dance partner in preparation for this day, and that was all silliness and light-hearted fun.
I didn’t expect the real thing to feel so daunting and so – intimate.
Our bodies pressed together like praying hands, fingers intertwined.
His pulse thrashing with mine. It’s not clear to me whether it’s my dance partner, or the unfamiliarity of my proximity to him, but I am overcome with an exhilaration that heats my cheeks and causes my mind to race with excitement.
We sway with the ebb and flow of the music.
He is a skilled and elegant dancer, and it takes all of my concentration for me to keep from standing on his toes.
We’re silent for a while, and I watch our feet for way too long before feeling the awkward air of the quiet between us. I bring my eyes level to his.
‘So, you said you’re the Duke of Algran?’ I question. ‘How odd it is that I lived there with my governess since adolescence, and our paths never crossed. Algran is a very small place, it is not exactly difficult to have met everyone in the area.’
The duke shakes his head. ‘I’m afraid I was never in Algran very much. My father had me sent to a very unpleasant school for delinquent boys for much of my youth.’ There’s a glimmer of sorrow in his eyes, but he keeps a faint smile.
‘You must’ve been quite the menace for a duke to send his son to anything other than a private preparatory school like the rest of the nobility,’ I tease.
‘Let’s just say I have made quite the rehabilitation story within my family. My mother would almost go as far as saying my company is tolerable nowadays.’
‘And your father?’ The way the softness in his face falters fills me with instant regret. Amongst immortals, death is a sly beast, a rarity that causes more devastation than any war. ‘I’m sorry, I—’
‘My father died of stupidity, something I cannot feel anything but disappointment about.’ A flash of anger fizzles into something close to defeat in his face, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he blinks at me. He shakes the subject away with his head. I don’t pry.
He lifts my arms above my head and twists me into a twirl as the violins flutter and the pianoforte chimes, the music swelling into a crescendo of mesmerising sound.
‘And you never fall back into your bad boy ways?’ I say, our faces meeting inches apart as I regain my footing from the surprise spin.
‘Only if there’s something attractive enough to tempt me.’ The corners of his lips lift into a crooked smirk and my skin burns crimson. This man is unalike anyone I have ever met before.
And I force myself to ignore the faint aroma of smoke that briefly infiltrates my senses at the mention of temptation. I will not let any thoughts of that abhorrent creature ruin this moment.
We dance in a more comfortable silence until the music comes to a natural stop at the end of the piece.
The duke dips into a bow, which I respond to with a brief curtsy.
Something to my side catches his eye and his face screams something in a language I cannot read. Whatever it is. He is not happy to see it.
‘What do you think you are playing at, Eira?’ My mother’s voice is a stab to the ears. She stands next to me, scanning the length of my body, her nose scrunched in blatant disgust.
‘If this is about the shoes.’ I roll my eyes. ‘I have open wounds that prove just how unsuitable they are for dancing.’
Her eyes narrow. ‘As undignified as your lack of footwear is, it is not what I find to be the issue here.’
‘Well then, what?’ I ask. The duke shifts his weight from one foot to the other, watching my mother closely. She straightens her posture, eyeing him up with displeasure.
‘You don’t approve of my dance partner, is that it?’
My mother purses her lips, aware of the attention my raised voice has gathered. I curse myself for letting her get to me, once again.
‘You know what is expected of you now. You should be well aware that any action of yours from now on will be scrutinised, even in ways you do not intend,’ her voice is hushed.
‘Every appearance, every interaction, every dance...’ She glances at the duke.
‘...means something to the court. I do not know what statement you think you are making here, but I can assure you it is in incredibly poor taste.’
‘What is that supposed to m—’
‘Forgive me for speaking so freely,’ the duke interjects. ‘But I do think you need to care less about your daughter’s dance partners, and more about what is going on in your kingdom.’
My mother blanches of all colour but lifts her chin and cooly peers down her nose at him.
‘What’s going on in Reyhen?’ I question him, recalling the man screaming at me on the steps of the cathedral this morning, how he spat the word fraud at my feet like my title is a sin.
His eyes remain locked with my mother’s.
Tension stiffens his countenance and thickens the air between them.
It aggravates me to know that I am being shoved out of the know once again.
‘I would do well to remind you to refrain from such ignorant free speaking, for I do not respond to such flagrant displays of disrespect with anything close to kindness.’
Neither of them breaks their stare.
‘Come, Eira.’ My mother grabs my arm. ‘I think it is time we retire from the festivities. Don’t you?’
‘I don’t.’ I shake her off. She flinches in surprise.
‘Your court have their eyes on you, Eira.’ Her face screws up like my name leaves a sourness on her tongue. ‘The image you choose for yourself now dictates how much they will respect you in the future.’
As much as it aggravates me to say it, she’s right.
No one wants an impulsive and confrontational queen, they want a rational and even-tempered leader.
If I publicly act out now, I will never win their favour.
I exhale, and give the duke one last curtsy, before allowing my mother to link arms and escort me from the dancefloor.
The way his shoulders sag tells me that my choice has disappointed him, that I had filled him with hope that I have enough defiance in me to be anything different than my mother.
The return of that ache that pulses in my stomach tells me that I have made the wrong decision.
I am supposed to be the difference in this kingdom.
My mother leaves me in the corridor without so much as another word.