The Night Festival #3
Twilight felt alive. I had never experienced it fully before, and it was getting difficult not to enjoy it. I could enjoy it. I deserved to after everything this kingdom had put me through—even if I had been the reason for half of it, but that was beside the point.
“Why don't you ask your guest to dance?” Elder Briladin suggested with the smile of someone quietly meddling.
Caelan half turned toward me. I didn't look at him.
“Yeah, Caelan.” A teasing smile broke across Maelor's face. “Why don't you ask your guest for a dance?”
I risked a glance at Caelan. He was looking at me like this was the best part of his day.
“I don't dance,” I said to Elder Briladin.
“You absolutely dance,” Caelan said immediately.
Elder Briladin laughed. “Don't be shy.” He pointed his chisel at Caelan. “He's a great dancer.”
I knew he was. That was the problem.
Caelan held out his hand.
I stared at it.
“I won't bite.” His lip twitched. “Yet.”
I ignored that with great effort.
Elder Briladin smiled at me with the sweet expectation of someone I found I didn't want to disappoint.
“One dance,” I said, slipping my hand into his.
The warmth of initial contact sent a pulse through the bond that fluttered somewhere in my stomach.
“One dance,” Caelan echoed.
Maelor watched, looking entirely too entertained. Caelan handed his glass to him, plucked mine from my other hand, and gave that one to Maelor as well.
Then he led us to the center of the square.
One hand settled low at my waist, the other wove through my fingers, warm against them.
We moved together, and I kept a measured gap between our chests, which did absolutely nothing for my pulse.
There was that hum again. Starting from where my fingers touched his skin, threading straight into my core.
I blamed the wine.
He watched me. The color of his eyes did something in the lantern light that I definitely did not like.
“That night at my masquerade,” he said. “If I wasn't the prince. If you weren't there to kill me.” His thumb moved slowly across the back of my hand. “What would have happened?”
“That's a dangerous question.” I looked up at him. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
He turned us and, in the movement, removed the distance between us. Intentional or not. We were flush against each other before I registered it happening.
“I’d like to know.” His eyes searched my face for a tell that wasn’t there.
The music swelled and the crowd moved around us.
“Did you know I was there to kill you?” I deflected.
“Not initially.”
I tilted my head. “That wasn't why you danced with me?”
Both of his hands were at my waist now. My hands had found their way around his neck without asking me first. My fingers moved against the skin at his nape, and when I noticed what I was doing, I stopped but didn't remove them either.
He smiled like he found it amusing. “You walked into my ballroom in that dress and expected me not to notice?”
“You're unbearable.”
He twirled me.
“You like me for it.”
“I loathe you.”
That wasn’t entirely true. I had never actually hated him. He was simply a target assigned to me.
And if my twelve new dresses and jewelry had any say in the matter, his employee benefits were outstanding.
But those were details he didn't need. For the sake of his ego.
“Is that what you keep telling yourself?”
“It's a fact.”
I glared at him so hard I felt one of my eyes twitch.
He frowned. “You keep looking at me like I’m a problem.”
“That’s because you are.”
He gasped and leaned in. The world narrowed to the curve of his mouth and the arrogance in his eyes. “I've never felt so seen.”
I became acutely aware of how close we were and the way the air between us felt charged. One inch was all it would take. If he'd just lean down and I moved up…
I wanted to kiss him.
The thought arrived with complete clarity and no apology. I wanted to close the remaining distance and show him exactly what would have happened that night if we had been anyone else and the world had been arranged differently.
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
There was a rebellion behind my ribs. My traitorous fingers found their way into his hair.
His grip tightened at my waist.
The bond had stopped being a background condition and had become impossible to ignore. It blurred the line between what I was feeling and what was bleeding through from him until it ceased to exist. The pull was stronger than anything I had encountered. Stronger than sense.
I did not come undone like this.
Never had.
The smile on his face was long gone, replaced by the expression of a man who had made a choice that would destroy us both. The question was whether I would accept the cost.
The sky above pressed down, darker than usual, close and heavy.
My gaze dropped to his mouth as he moved closer, and my throat went dry.
A sudden, thunderous bang startled us both.
Confetti burst above us in violent ribbons of color, raining down. It caught in his hair and on his shoulders, and he didn't notice.
He tipped his head back to watch it. A slow, boyish smile broke across his face.
The crowd roared in delight and laughter.
I watched him and let myself smile. Just this once.
For the sake of Bright March.
Then he leaned close to my ear and said quietly, “Welcome to Twilight, Sera.”