51. Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter fifty-one
The first thing I notice as we approach the castle is the heady scent of fragrant orange blossom and spicy ginger wafting in the air, thick with the day's dwindling humidity.
We pass through the gates with minimal questions once we hand over the invitation and tokens, then our hired wagon, complete with stowaways, is heading to the entrance of the looming stone castle.
The honeyed brown stone is radiant, bathed in the fiery light of the setting sun.
Lively music greets us, the ball already well underway as we pull into a shadowy corner.
Zenn lifts me down before pulling up the hollow seats to help Jeska and Hendrix, who slip their simple masks on and disappear into the darkness, promising to check in if they can.
We walk up the final part of the road, joining the crowd of people mingling near the foot of the steps, waiting to get inside.
That's when I get my first glimpse of the man whose attention I'm supposed to be stealing tonight.
The Orz prince is almost as tall as Zenn, with broad shoulders and short, sandy blond hair.
As we approach him in the receiving line, I let Zenn go ahead as planned, pausing to smooth my hair and check my mask is firmly in place before dropping into a low curtsey shamelessly intended to give him the chance to properly appreciate the neckline of this dress.
I decided if I'm going to do this, I have to fully commit to playing my role.
The curve of the prince's mouth and the mischief dancing in his masked viridian eyes when he presses his lips to the back of my gloved hand let me know the move played out as intended.
"Happy birthday, Your Highness." I return his flirtatious smile with one of my own. "Enjoy your party."
The warmth in his tone matches his expression when he purrs, "Save me a dance, and I will.
" I'm grateful their king and queen don't give us more than a passing glance, looking thoroughly bored of greeting their guests. My handsome escort leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, already scowling while he waits for me to close the intentional distance we’ll have to keep between us throughout the night.
Stepping from the foyer into the enormous ballroom, I marvel at the kaleidoscope of colors, people, and even creatures in the wide open space.
It reminds me of the tropical greenhouse back in Zel, only on a far greater scale.
Vibrant flowers cover every flat surface, overflowing arrangements of golden kowhailias, hot pink hibiscus, and crimson plumeria sway in the gentle breezes coming in from open doors, leading to what look like private balconies.
I even spot the spiky green tops of pineapples clustered in amongst the blooms, their sweet perfume drawing the attention of the fluffy bumblebees as big as my thumb, drifting in lazy circles around the floral decorations.
I always thought bees were only black and yellow, but these ones are black and every color imaginable.
"Well, that took about as long as expected. I was going to get you a drink, but it looks like someone beat me to it." Zenn scoffs, flashing an unconvincing smile. "Time for me to make myself scarce."
He slips into the crowd just as the Orz Prince approaches, two crystal flutes filled with effervescent liquid in his black gloved hands. "I hope I didn't scare your friend away?" He hands me a glass, clinking it against his and drinking deeply.
"Not at all. I think he had his eye on that woman in the white dress over there, so you likely gave him the perfect out.
" Not entirely a lie, since Zenn is already entrenched in a conversation with a stunning woman in a white lacy mask, who keeps running her fingers through her long red hair. Urgh, talk about obvious.
"Impossible," the prince declares. "There's no chance he was here with you, in that dress, and noticed another woman. Personally, I'm actually convinced this entire room is filled with men. Very unattractive men, though, so no need to look around."
I let out a genuine laugh and rest my hand on his forearm, taking a sip of my sparkling wine and savoring the way the bubbles dance on my tongue as the prince cleverly steps into my line of sight, blocking Zenn from view.
"I’d like to know your name, but I think that's against the rules of a masquerade, so I'll have to think of something to call you. " He's smooth, I'll give him that.
"Mysteriously done with receiving your guests all of a sudden?" I tease. "Or were you worried about missing your party?"
"The party? No. I figured if I left it too long to at least make a strong second impression, I might've been too late. So far, I believe incurring my mother's wrath at my lack of manners is well worth it."
“Well played.” I smirk, clinking my glass with his. As it turns out, the prince is incredibly easy to talk to, and time flies. I temporarily forget I'm supposed to be reeling him in with suggestive looks and sly touches and just enjoy the conversation.
The expansive view from the wide windows overlooking miles and miles of cherry-red, coral, and orange sand dunes stretches out beneath us like a flaming sea, lit up under the spectacular glow of sunset.
"Finally ready to give me that dance? I might even be so bold as to claim two. May as well give the old gossips something to really talk about." He gives me a cheeky wink, bowing ridiculously low then extending a hand.
Taking it, I drop into a curtsey in reply.
"It would be my pleasure, Your Highness.
" Stars, this is ridiculous. I'd almost forgotten what it's like being at court, with all the simpering and formalities.
This prince is different, or he seems it, anyway.
He looks amused, like he might have an inkling what kind of game I'm playing and is only too happy to play along.
He's not wrong about the attention of the room being on us. I see now why it would have been next to impossible to get anywhere near him without the lure of a well-cut neckline and a coy smile.
The musicians play the opening bars of a well-known quickstep, and he pulls me into his arms, one hand high on my back, the other firmly gripping mine as the power of the music takes over, strumming, caressing, energizing every cell within me, each intentional note crafting a melody meant to be mine.
Music has always been sacred to me. It promises a place where I get to be every version of myself.
Joyful, angry, vengeful, afraid, paralyzed by shame or daring to hope.
I honor her promise of safety in the only way I know how: I dance.
Filling my lungs with a deep breath of the rich, spicy air, on the exhale, my shoulders drop, chin tilts up, and I submit.
Everything I'm so used to holding taut and sucked in goes loose and pliant, ready to be commanded by the instruments and their musicians.
Ready to be twisted, stretched, forged into something new, if only for a few sweet moments.
Opening my eyes, I meet a gaze shining with wild delight behind a sculptured gold mask.
I was so caught up in the sound and the feeling, I barely registered I had a partner at all.
The music guides us, and he leads me around the checkered dance floor with expert precision, feet so light, they might not ever touch the floor as we dip and soar and twirl.
"You're one hell of a dancer," the prince says with a grin as we catch our breath between songs.
When the next one starts, it's a beautiful orchestral waltz.
Strong hand at my waist, he pulls me in, but not too close.
There are no roaming touches, and he maintains a very respectful distance at all times without ruining the dance.
Even with the twinkling eyes and flirty banter, there's a hint of something almost sad lingering too.
"As are you, Your Highness."
"Oh, please, call me Errik."
"Now that hardly seems fair when I can't give you my name."
"Nonetheless, I insist you do. Formalities are a bore, and I so rarely get to drop them with anyone new."
It takes a few seconds for me to register what he just said. Anyone new. As in, he knows I'm not from Orz? Or am I reading into it too much, and it's just because of the mask?
I wonder if I was too quick to give him credit for not being handsy, when, without breaking rhythm, he pulls me hard against him, closer than we've been all night.
I want to step back, to discourage the proximity, when his grip on my waist and hand go painfully tight.
This is not the same man I've been laughing and flirting with.
His steely voice sends shivers down my spine when he leans so close, his breath tickles my ear and whispers, "You're a long way from home. "
In the next breath, he spins me out again, yanking a little harder than necessary to pull me back into his body.
I stumble, bracing my other hand against his neck for balance.
Panicked pain shoots through me; he stops dancing and drops my hand, sucking in a breath through pursed lips as he stares at the smoking hole in his left glove.
"Are you alright?" I ask, eyes widening when I see his palm beneath is bright red. "What happened?"
His eyes dart between the burned spot and me, equally confused. Hushed murmurs come from the people crowded around the edges of the black and white floor, hungry for something worth gossiping over, craning their necks to see why we're standing still.
"Apologies, I don't know what happened. Maybe one of the bees or a fire ant got me," he replies, confused, then tugs off the glove theatrically and makes a show of holding up his palm and joking with the onlookers, proving he's ok before his nearby guards take two steps off their nearby posts.
Instead of leaving the dance floor immediately, he just tugs off his other glove, shoves them in his pocket, and steps toward me, holding out both hands. "If you'll forgive the informality, my lady, I'd like to continue our dance?"
I'm all too aware of our expectant audience, so I keep up the ruse and continue my performance. I won't be the reason Zenn's time with Redson is cut short.
"Of course not. In fact, why don't I join you? We could start a new trend."
My voice is a little too high and unnaturally flirtatious as I slip my gloves off, laughing when he takes them from my fingertips and slips them into his pocket before pulling me back into his arms.
We find the rhythm of the music again, then his eyes narrow behind his mask. "Nothing to say?"
I shake my head, not knowing how to explain.
The prince leads me into the next song, continuing to speak.
"I'll admit, when Redson hinted at a chance of surprising conversation tonight, I never would have predicted you.
" Forcing a deep breath, I relax in his hold.
Zenn's liaison obviously told Errik he would be here, and the prince saw me with Zenn earlier and figured it out.
It's not like he's hard to detect, with his towering stature and the streak of gold at his temple.
Prince Errik continues quietly, undeterred by the lack of response. "I assume if I was to summon Redson right now, he might be somewhat hard to locate. What do you think?"
I don't see a way around answering, so I offer him a tiny, cautious smile. "I believe you would be correct in that assumption."
He looks like he's about to ask a follow up question when the dance calls for him to raise our joined hands between us.
When he does, his face goes deathly white, and this time, he's the one stumbling through our next few steps, leaving me to wonder what just happened yet again.
It's all I can do to keep moving when he whispers, "Alyxia? "
Did he just–? Heart racing, I force myself to look up and meet his blazing green eyes. "It is you, isn't it?" he asks as we rise and fall in step with the music.
"How could you possibly know my name?" I ask under my breath.
He blows out a loud breath, some of the tension leaving his body with it. "Your sister has told me a lot about you."