Chapter 1 #2
Calculation flickered in his gaze, as though he’d reached for a blade and found it missing. Did he purposely use his eyes, turning it on and off?
Had it just failed to work on me?
He didn’t speak. Never blinked. Just canted his head and gave me a slow once-over.
Appraising. Dangerous. Glittering. Silence stretched until my pulse drummed a war beat against my ribs.
Then something like recognition flickered in his gaze.
Just for a moment, ja, but definitely there.
I gulped. I’d performed before dragons countless times, but never, never had I felt an audience member strip me bare with a single look.
Perhaps I should ask to serve my ambassadorship from a lighthouse above the waves, far from him.
“Do you intend to properly greet the king holding your future in his hands,” he finally asked in his native Icelandic, “or stand there trembling until you fall?”
First of all, I absolutely was not trembling. Not anymore. Second, his voice rolled over me like a dark tide. Third, my training took over. I offered a flawless, controlled curtsy. “Your majesty,” I greeted in the same language. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. Officially.”
Far from impressed, he rested his elbow on the arm of the throne. “You are the dancer,” he said. “The one rumored to bespell legions with every performance.”
“I am a dancer, ja,” I managed, pretending he hadn’t mentioned the ridiculous rumor I’d fought to quash for years. “Or I was, before I became an ambassador.”
“A transformation with no obvious motive.” He stroked his jaw, locks of his hair sliding through shades of moonlight.
“Tell me. Are you being punished? Did you disobey a royal command? Fall in love with the wrong man?” French now.
“Or did you wish to be closer to me, after your ravenous gaze devoured me during the meeting of royals?” Ancient Norse, as old as the tides.
Heat suffused my cheeks. He couldn’t be mine. Right? He just couldn’t be. Tentacles couldn’t be cuddly. Fire and water didn’t mix. Dragons belonged in the air; kraken buried themselves in the sea.
But why had he switched languages? To test me? I should pretend not to understand. That was what Adelaide would recommend. Harmless was informed. But the spotlight called…
I responded in Spanish. “I assure you, majesty, being here is no punishment. I look forward to helping kraken and dragonkind maintain our mutually beneficial friendship.” I refused to address the eye-devouring, which I couldn’t deny without lying.
“You will see. Berserker factions can function well together.”
A faint, sardonic smile curved his mouth. “Such a cautious response. How very diplomatic of you,” he said, speaking Italian. “I’m told you are shy, but you come alive with laughter and wit as soon as you are comfortable.”
My mouth snapped shut. Ignore the flood of warmth. Never mind that his description was pitch-perfect. How did he know such personal details about me? Was there a spy in the dragon court?
Wait. My eyes narrowed. He hadn’t meant those words as a compliment, had he?
“I might insult you if I mention what I’ve been told of you,” I replied before I could think better of it. At least I’d reverted to Icelandic.
Cinders. I’d taken a crash course in tactful, eloquent diplomacy before leaving home. What I’d just said was a big-time no-no. I’d blame it on my nerves. But an itty-bitty part of me might be secretly hoping I pushed him into proving he wasn’t mine.
I braced for his response. Gracefully, of course.
To my surprise, he chuckled with genuine humor. “I’m happy to tell you the rumors about me are true.”
That laugh. Oh, that laugh. Deep and resonant, reaching parts of me he shouldn’t. Anticipation swelled behind my ribs, reminding me of those brief moments right before the music began, and I started to dance.
Oh nein. That was the worst possible reaction.
I needed out of here, and I needed out now. After dipping into a more subdued curtsy, as if our conversation had reached its natural conclusion, I prepared to turn. “Thank you for welcoming me to Krakenstrond, majesty.”
“Do not, princess.” That, he delivered in German.
The command cracked like a conductor striking his baton against a podium, and I froze.
He settled more comfortably on his scorched coral throne, his features relaxing into an expression of sly determination. “You’ve come at the perfect time. I have a special assignment for you.”
His words threw me for a loop. “I’m not a princess while I’m here, majesty. I’m an ambassador,” I corrected, then inwardly kicked myself. I’d just interrupted a king and stopped him from telling me about that special assignment. I must know!
“Your very being screams royalty, princess. There’s no denying what you are, even with a change of title.”
Before I could respond, a soldier entered from a hidden side door I hadn’t clocked. So much for noting every exit. Sebastian pressed his lips together.
In the ensuing silence, I floundered. What assignment, what assignment, what assignment?
The soldier marched across the dais, bent down, and whispered in the king’s ear. Whatever he said infuriated Sebastian. Oh, not by word or action did he betray it; he remained silent and slightly reclined. Unfortunately for him, the tempest in his eyes spoke for him. What had happened?
That starlit gaze returned to me, catching me in the act of staring. Well, embers. I shouldn’t have studied him so closely.
He didn’t release me from his magnetic hold as he shooed the soldier away.
My heart tripped over itself. I rise. I float. I land. The refrain ebbed and flowed on repeat, a balm to my nerves. I rise. I float. I land.
“All is well, I hope,” I said, opting for Icelandic when the silent staring contest persisted. What a little diplomat I was.
“Seems our meeting must be postponed,” he replied in kind.
He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, voice suddenly quiet but carrying, every syllable wrapping around me like tentacles.
“Get settled in your quarters, Princess Ambassador. You will join me for dinner tonight. We’ll discuss your duties then. ”