Chapter Fifty-Eight
Ballroom
Nothing could have prepared me for the glamour of the ballroom.
Crystal chandeliers drip from the mural on the ceiling, where the God of Frivolity plays his lyre over the deep green fabric of his tunic.
He wears a playful expression while his tall frame lounges on a throne of bright, puffy clouds.
Sunbeams illuminate his blond curls, and the bright blue of his eyes matches the hue of the sky behind him.
In contrast, the floor mimics a beautiful night sky, with an opalescent moon and stars shining back from within the darkened wood.
Floor-to-ceiling mirrors adorn the nearest wall, showing everyone who pays attention just how unabashedly Varic stares at me in the reflection.
Her Royal Highness strides to the center of the dance floor before turning around to face us. She holds her hands out to gesture around the grand room while her witches-in-waiting form a semi-circle of support behind her back.
“Welcome to our esteemed ballroom, where so many celebrations have been held through the generations.” Her eyes dart over to the doorway we just entered, though no one is there.
Her smile broadens as she raises her hand in announcement.
“While the next event I hope to host in this space will be my son’s wedding. ”
I turn and follow her line of sight, and my heart constricts when Prince Auden strides in.
He moves with a confident fluidity, and barely a crease in his fine Annovian blue uniform.
Each step he takes is carefully synchronized with his two broad guards, who make his tall frame appear small by comparison.
Several strands of his straight black hair fall over his forehead, while his dimpled smile widens the closer he moves toward his mother.
His hazel eyes appear nearly as keen as hers, staring out from beneath striking black brows which angle upward at the edges.
He greets the guests with a winning smile, nodding with affection to a select few before he turns to me, and our gazes lock.
He makes a show of craning his neck to maintain our eye contact until he must turn and bow to his mother.
Heat radiates from Varic’s form as a tendril of my magic snakes its way toward him.
His grim expression twists my stomach, and the distress he is feeling sours it.
I gather all the joy I experienced while spinning around the library, and imbue him with the same, hoping it might help to temper his upset.
My focus shifts between the Emperor, the Queen, and Varic as every muscle in my body tenses, waiting for magic to detect that his distress has lessened. Heart kicking at my ribs from how long the joy is taking to have the intended effect, until his shoulders finally relax.
Emperor Aldritch emits a rough cough before righting himself toward the royal family.
My heart stalls when he turns his head and catches me watching, then his thin lips curl into a wry smile as he weaves through the crowd with his Guards following, only coming to a stop once he reaches me.
I freeze in place when his clammy hand curls around my bicep and hold my breath to try to avoid his sulphur and wine scent.
“The Prince seems to have taken an interest in you. Pursue it.” His gaze remains fixed on the royal in question.
I try to will some moisture to wet my mouth so I might respond without choking when a row of servers flows into the ballroom, carrying trays of sparkling wine.
Anya arrives immediately after and lowers into a curtsy before testing the glass I am offered.
His Majesty nods his approval once she remains alive for whatever interval of time he thinks means I’m safe.
The glass is chilled when it meets my lips, and I guzzle the wine faster than usual before asking His Majesty, “What would you have me do to pursue his interest?”
“Encourage it, and don’t fuck up.” He strides away, and I bend in a bow to his receding form.
“How would he benefit from you ‘entertaining’ the Prince?” Varic whispers.
“Speculating on the purpose of his schemes is pointless,” I say, just as quietly. “If safety is your concern, then I will need your support in carrying out this command.”
Varic’s gaze traces the lacy pink flush on my chest before the corner of his mouth ticks up. Then he sends me threads of pride and amusement the longer he stares at my unnatural reaction.
“I must admit, it is a small comfort to see I can still affect you like this.” Varic gestures to my reddened skin.
My eyes narrow. “Were you truly curious as to his purpose and the harm it may cause me? Because otherwise it seems you merely disapprove of the ‘encouragement’ I am to give the Prince.”
His chest expands with a mix of frustration and embarrassment building inside of him. Then we each grow silent when the Prince’s hazel eyes seek and find mine, smiling in earnest as he stalks confidently in my direction.
Anxiety rushes in like an undertow beneath my skin while the prickle of thousands of tiny needles stabs my abdomen.
The effect of not knowing how to interact with someone of his station, since my skills of influence are all magical in nature.
A lifetime of standing off to the side as the Emperor’s guests ignore or avoid me will not aid me in this venture.
Not when encouraging the attention of one so practiced would require years of forming charming words, and at least a modicum of understanding as to how to behave in polite conversation.
My brow quirks when the Prince bows to me. “Good evening.”
“Good evening.” I curtsy, as required.
He waves a hand dismissively as he leans in. “Just Auden to you.”
My expression must betray my bewilderment as a look of amusement lifts his own. “Won’t I be expected to address you by your proper title?”
He closes the distance, and a low, predatory growl rumbles from Varic.
“I do not intend for anyone to be near enough that they might hear how you address me.” The Prince’s tone is low and sultry.
I stare up at him in confusion as his pupils seem to be dilated, with the hazel ring around each thinner than when I first saw him enter the ballroom, though not as wide as someone dosed with luss essence, which would otherwise explain why he is being so forward.
A guest who seems to have imbibed a bit more heavily extends a hand to the Prince, who winks at me before attending to the sorcerer.
Varic sighs heavily, and I force my gaze to remain near the Prince.
“I do not like this assignment any more than you do,” I whisper.
“You could have fooled me. I saw the way you looked at him.”
My jaw drops before I retort, “It’s called acting, Varic.”
“Then I must commend you. You are quite the actor. Very convincing.”
I part my lips to add another quip, then hurriedly shut them when Prince Auden turns back.
“May I have this dance?” He offers his hand, and I turn to where no band exists, nor does anyone seem to be forming along the edges of the room so dancing might take place at the center.
Then my chest constricts with my magic siphoning Varic’s emotions. My eyes dart over to him, and my breath hitches at the amber sparks emitting from his fingertips. The brightness of each disappears beneath the black fabric over his hips, and my stomach drops with his need to scar himself.
Tears well along my lashes as I observe the Prince interacting with other guests who have thankfully interrupted us, feeling as if my heart might burst as I abandon Varic when he’s hurting like this.
Though I could be wrong—except Malin catches my eye with concern swirling in his own. I tilt my head toward Varic to ask Malin if he can intervene, but he shakes his head somberly, breaking my heart with how obvious it is that he wishes to claim the opposite.
Sharp pain radiates when the tips of my nails pierce the center of my palms when I try, and fail, to send Varic my love. Shattering my heart when the tendril slams into his wards. Walling himself off to keep me from overusing my magic, when I want nothing more than to help him with it.
Prince Auden turns his attention back to me now that he has appeased his audience.
“What dance?” I ask.
“Ours.” The Prince steps closer, until we are nearly chest to chest with each other.
Tears prick my eyes as Varic’s distress grows so vast that I risk immeasurable consequence by ignoring everything around me to focus on drawing as much of his sorrow as I can choke down. I try to prevent him from having to scar himself further while cursing the Emperor for causing this.
Prince Auden explains there will be a band assembling when Varic’s power pulses higher.
I share a wobbly smile with the royal and pull on the recent moments when Varic helped me feel safe.
I collect the calm he brought me in each, then send them to him with the hope it will reach him and temper the rage blasting from his palms.
I nod to the Prince, as my main focus remains on tracking Varic’s emotions, feeling as if I will lose consciousness if this goes on much longer. Allowing my gaze to flick over to him, I release a breath when the amber sparks mercifully dissipate.
Yet the relief is short-lived as my whole body shakes and it feels as if I could cry—or faint.
The Prince must assume my reaction is in response to him as he grins when returning from the back wall, where the band is assembling. “You may select the song.”
A tingling warmth spreads from the soles of my feet and swirls around my legs.
I feel it all tenfold with the intensity of the moment, which seems to make my skin more sensitive to Varic’s shield.
I clench my muscles when it tickles around the swell of my hips and in the dip of my waist. Then I clench my jaw to cage in a squeal as it seals in the center of my chest and back, before cascading down from my shoulders to cover all the way to my fingertips.
My cheeks tremble with emotion while I revel in Varic’s possessiveness, effectively preventing the Prince from having any real contact with my body.