4. Princess Esemeray
PRINCESS ESEMERAY
The air was thick in the ballroom.
Avoiding a swarm of guests, Esemeray dashed for the balcony doors, gasping for breath. Her heart pounded. The warm cream walls darkened with her vision. The overwhelming chatter died as she sealed the glass shut.
Finally, she inhaled a full breath.
She’d snuck off the dais before her father announced tonight’s celebration. She couldn’t bear to hear Elora’s name in front of all of those people. Not again. Not tonight.
She rested her arms against the cold stone balcony, and glanced skyward. Glittering stars speckled across the oblivion like splattered paint—the sky, a canvas made only for the gods.
She sighed, the tension inside of her easing. She soaked in the moment, knowing she couldn’t hide for long. Her mother's voice rang through her mind. “You will entertain the prince tonight. You would be wise to obey.”
As much as she should care what her mother said, she didn’t.
Esemeray avoided Peter several times, but she feared she wouldn’t be able to for much longer, not with the way he had been stalking her all night like a hungry animal.
Her stomach hollowed knowing he was inside waiting for her. Knowing her mother was waiting for her.
A faint clunk sounded. Esemeray gasped, glancing over her shoulder. No one was there. Paranoid, I’m just being paranoid. With a calming breath, she fixed her gaze back on a particular star, and willed her mind to relax. A lightness spread through her chest, and her thoughts began to roam.
Could someone be looking at the same star? At the same time? On a different planet?
In a galaxy far, far away?
The thought made her mind spin, but it took away the panic the night had brought. A gentle reminder from the universe—her problems were not big after all. She was hardly a fraction of the cosmos, a small, small dust particle compared to the infinite beyond.
Faint footsteps sounded. She slammed her eyes closed, warmth flushing her cheeks.
“Can I ever have a moment to myself?” she grumbled, too tired to force a smile.
A deep, smooth voice cut through her. “Sorry, I didn’t notice anyone out here.”
Esemeray blushed from the sound, her stomach erupting with butterflies.
“I was just leaving.” Esemeray lifted the corner of her dress and turned.
Her features slackened as she took in the tall man towering over her.
The black-and-white suit did little to hide the strong, lithe muscles rippling beneath.
She could have sworn his eyes flickered with surprise, but any glimmer vanished the moment he blinked.
He leaned against the railing, grinning. “Enjoying the party?”
She dropped the corner of her dress, straightening the wrinkles. “Yes… Yes, I am.”
He arched a darkened brow. “I don’t believe you.”
Esemeray scoffed. “Do you take me for a liar?”
He pointed his thumb toward the doors. “The party is in there, but you’re hiding among the stars.”
“I needed air.” She offered him an obvious smile. “And you? Are you not enjoying the party?”
He chuckled. “Oh, I was, but I prefer the night sky much more.”
She glanced toward the star-filled expanse, then back to him. “As do I.”
“Beautiful isn’t it?”
“It is.” Esemeray smiled sweetly, wondering why he was conversing with her.
Normally, no one did.
He tossed her a charming smile. “May I?” he asked, jerking his chin toward where she was standing.
Her heart skipped. “Yes, go ahead, I was just leaving.” She offered him a parting nod, and took a step.
“You said that already.”
His voice curled around her, halting her.
“You might miss the shooting stars.” His voice softened. “You don’t see those every night.”
Her chest fluttered. “How do you know about the celestial event?”
“Let’s just say,” his voice was rough, “I spend most of my nights watching the sky.”
Her eyes lit. “Is that so?”
Every other night, she would spend hours on her balcony, losing track of time. Some nights, she even stayed until the sun peeked on the horizon.
“Hurry, look!” He pointed to the vastness.
Esemeray obeyed, looking toward the heavens. She gasped as the stars fell like glittering silver. “Divine,” she breathed. Serenity flooded her soul, drowning her in a state of bliss. Gripping the stone, she leaned over so far her toes lifted from the ground.
“Careful,” he whispered, his hand resting firm on the small of her back. “You don’t want to tip over the ledge. That’s quite the drop.”
Esemeray’s stomach somersaulted from his touch. His hand hadn’t slipped away until her heels were back on the ground.
She met his stare. “I wasn’t going to fall.”
“And if you did?”
“Then I suppose I’d die,” Esemeray said, fighting her grin.
“It’s a good thing I’m here,” he smirked, “because I wouldn’t let you.”
“Who are you?” she teased. “A knight off duty?”
“No,” he said. “Just a man.”
She found herself wondering what he looked like without the mask.
Is he as beautiful as he sounds? Trailing his golden, tan skin and sharp jawline, she imagined the rest of his features—painting the perfect picture in her mind.
Glancing down at his shoes, her brows drew inward. Who wears boots to a party?
“I guess falling over the balcony wouldn’t be the craziest story told here in the kingdom. I’m sure you have heard plenty,” he said, his statement sounding more like a question.
That made her glance up at him. His eyes lingered with curiosity.
She chewed on her lower lip. “Yes, many.”
“Oh yeah?” He leaned forward, the scent of mint clouding her space. “Tell me something good.”
She could feel the weight in his stare sweeping over her—could feel the warmth in his gaze as it dipped down her body.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “My—” She was going to say father, but stopped herself. It was clear the man had no clue who she was. And she’d like to keep it that way. It was nice being treated normal for once. Like no one owed her anything.
She continued, making something up, “I heard once a servant got caught stealing the queen’s jewelry.” She cracked an innocent smile. “And I heard the king plays chess in the dead of the night.” Her father had done that ever since she and Elora were children. He still does.
“Do you like games?” he asked.
She nodded. “I do.” Her and Elora used to play all sorts of games, sometimes, even made up ones. Her heart stinged at the memory.
His lips curved. “I bet you’ve never played The Star Game before.”
“The what?” she asked, fidgeting with her dress. Esemeray had never heard of The Star Game before.
He cocked his head to the side. “Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you never played.”
“I have not,” she admitted. Sure he was making it up. She’d play along anyway. “Tell me how it works.”
“Tell you? What’s the fun in that?” He inched closer. “I’d rather show you.”
She blinked. Once. Twice. She had never stood so close to a man, alone. Her heart pounded, cheeks turning ruby.
“It’s the perfect night to play,” he said, motioning to the sky. “Unless you have other things to do… I wouldn’t want to take too much of your time.”
“Show me.” She’d stay a little longer.
“First things first, we must set rules.” His eyes gleamed. “Rule number one, you must pick your star.” He pointed toward the sky. “Do you see that bright-orange one?”
It was an effort to look away from him. She scanned the sky. Her eyes fell on the one he had chosen. She beamed at the recognition. He chose the same star that caught her eye in a moment of crisis. Her voice, soft and full of curiosity, broke the silence, “Yes.”
His fingers drummed the stone. “That’s my star. Now choose yours.”
There were far too many to choose from, the millions of flashing lights making her head spin, but she focused on the brightest one of them all and found herself drumming her fingers on the stone, next to his.
“Do you want me to choose for you?” he asked, his fingers a hairbreadth away from touching hers.
“I…” She pointed toward the big, bright one. “That one.”
He laughed, his lips twisting a playful grin. “That is a planet.”
Heat climbed up her neck. She stared at him, swallowing hard. “You mock me?”
He placed his hand above his heart. “I’d never…” He pointed skyward. “Planets have a steady light and don’t blink as much as stars.”
She blew out a breath. “You don’t say.”
“Was that sarcasm I heard?”
“Perhaps.” Esemeray shrugged a single shoulder.
His fingers curled around his satin mask as he adjusted it, revealing a freckle on his cheek. “Okay, fine. I will let it slide, just for you.” His smile widened, a dimple showing by his chin. “Second rule: You must name your star.” He cleared his throat. “I mean planet.”
Smart-ass.
She set her hand under her chin, thinking of a name from a storybook Aria used to read to her and Elora. “Dazzle.”
He nodded. “Good choice. I will go with Twinkly.”
Esemeray snorted. “Twinkly?”
He glared. “You really want to laugh about names, Ms Dazzle? Or would you like to learn the game?”
She blew out a slow, slow breath trying her hardest not to laugh. She nodded for him to continue.
“Alright, here’s the game. The first shooting star to pass our star wins.”
Her stomach fluttered. “Got it, so now we wait?” she questioned.
“Now we wait,” he whispered, awe glimmering in his eyes.
Shoulder to shoulder, they wordlessly stared at the sky for long minutes. Esemeray shifted, her fingers grazing him. Her breath caught, her hand reeling back like his touch had burned her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean?—”
“Shh, I’m trying to concentrate.” He smirked, side eyeing her.
A star streamed by, and out of all the stars in the sky, it passed by the one she had chosen.
Dazzle.
Esemeray shrieked, jumping up and down. “Concentrate on that!”
It had been a long, long while since she played a game with anyone, even longer since she’d won.
His laugh rolled through her excitement, the sound a deep octave. “Would you look at that?” His expression softened. “Choose your prize.”
“Prize?”
He closed the space between them, his eyes dropping to her lips. “Every winner gets a prize. So tell me, what do you desire?”
Goosebumps slid down her neck. She wanted him to take off his mask, but it felt like an intimate request. “You choose.”
“If you insist.” He laughed. “Close your eyes—and no peeking.”
She could feel him almost pressed against her; her stomach turning into knots. She sucked on her lip and obeyed, the vision of him fading from her sight.
Seconds went by of paper shuffling and crumpling.
What’s he doing?
She peeked an eye open.
“Hey, what did I say? I said?—”
She slammed her lids shut. “No peeking.”
More paper shuffled.
“Open,” he whispered, his voice a low rasp.
Slowly, she peered through her lashes, her heart leaping.
“For you.” He set a crumpled ball in the palm of her hands. She examined what looked like a page from a drawing book or a journal. She noticed writing of some sort inked on the paper. She observed it, her brows knitting.
“Um…thank you. What is it supposed to be?”
He feigned an offence with a palm to his chest. “I’m hurt, I truly am.” His tone was sarcastic, his laugh lazy. “It’s Dazzle.”
She examined the crumbled ball in her hands, and her face turned scarlet. “Do I get to learn the name of the man who made this?” She fluttered her lashes, her voice lowering, “So I can thank him.”
He shifted on his feet, fidgeting with his hands before he slid them in his pockets. “Leonard.” His cheeks blushed. “But you can call me Leo.”
Silence hung between them.
Leo arched his brow. “And yours?”
Her stomach tightened.
When she didn’t speak, he said, “You know, it’s only right I should learn the name of the woman I poured my blood and sweat into.” He chuckled. “Grabbing Dazzle out of the sky was no easy task.”
She swallowed her laugh. “Sophie.” The lie rolled off her tongue. “It’s perfect, thank you…Leo.”
“Please, don’t give me too much credit. But you did earn it.” Leo leaned over the balcony, glancing around at the opulent grounds. “So…Sophie, what else is there to do around here?”
Esemeray dipped her chin with an uncontained smile. “Follow me.”