Chapter 40 #2
‘I was wondering where you’d got to,’ he says, stretching out his hand to Kay. When she offers hers, he takes it and lifts it to his lips. ‘I thought I’d stepped on your feet one too many times and you’d gone in search of a different dance partner.’ He laughs.
‘Not at all.’ She beams. ‘I was just finding my sister. Rose, this is Hew.’
Hew is ridiculously pretty, with floppy ginger hair, a plump mouth, brown eyes, and pale skin. I can see why Kay would feel flattered by his attention, but that’s only because she’s disturbingly unaware of how beautiful she is.
‘The infamous Rose Kultavaris.’ Hew stretches out his hand, and I offer my own for Kay’s sake. ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance at last. I have heard much about you.’
‘From Kay or other sources?’ There’s a bristliness to my voice and yet he smiles.
‘Both.’
‘Is that so?’ My skin prickles at his suaveness. It reminds me of all the men and women who turned their backs on my parents. Maybe his family was among them? Still, I offer him a tight, polite smile. ‘Do I want to ask who else has been talking about me?’
‘Probably not. Although, by the looks of it, the main culprit is on his way over now.’
He nods his head, gesturing behind us to the figure walking our way. And it really is one hell of a figure.
Kyor’s interpretation of formal wear is nothing more than a white shirt and tightly fitted trousers, but he still outshines the guests around him.
I don’t know how he does it, but every time I see him his eyes appear bluer and his shoulders broader.
Of course, his overall appeal is also enhanced by the fact that he’s cleaned up since all the heaving and retching in the forest.
‘You’re friends with Kyor?’ I ask.
‘Hew was in the forest for the prince to save,’ Kay answers me. ‘Though he was kept in another part from me.’
So it’s not just Zelle that Kyor is close to. Interesting.
‘The prince and I have been friends since childhood,’ Hew says with unconcealed self-importance. ‘There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for him.’
‘Interesting company you’ve picked here, Howells.’ Kyor ignores me completely as he speaks to Hew.
‘Yes, well, I was just going to ask Kay for another dance. Perhaps make up for my previous lack of skill.’
His eyes glitter at Kay and I don’t like it.
‘You really weren’t that bad,’ she replies with a tinkling laugh before taking his arm.
Before she can take a single step away, I reach out and grab her. ‘I thought we were going to talk. Catch up?’
Conflict flashes on her face. ‘Of course, yes.’ She bites her lip.
‘Let her have some fun,’ Kyor chides from behind me. ‘This is meant to be a ball, remember? And you have all night to talk. I’m sure Hew won’t keep her for long.’
He’s right. I don’t want to stop her from enjoying herself. Not when she looks so happy.
‘Find me after the dance,’ I instruct tightly.
‘Of course,’ she replies, her smile tightening. ‘Though maybe after the second one.’
I’m unable to draw my narrowed eyes away from Kay and Hew as they walk towards the dance floor.
‘She’s eighteen, right?’ Kyor says. ‘She doesn’t need your permission to do anything.’
‘She’s eighteen and she knows nothing about the way the court works.’
‘And you recall such matters, do you?’ he asks softly. ‘Well then, Kultavaris, you’ll recall how essential it is to curry royal favour. Dance with me.’
It’s not a request, and I hate that, but he’s right, damn him. I can’t afford to spit at him in front of the whole court, not if I want Kay to stand a chance of belonging here if I win the gifting.
The music strikes up, and Kyor holds out a hand. I take it, trying to ignore the burst of static as his fingers curl around mine. Wordlessly, I allow him to guide me to the dance floor where he places his other hand on the small of my back, sending shockwaves through my body.
My breath catches as momentary panic rises through me, and it’s only partially because the prince has his hands on me.
I’m not actually sure that I remember how to dance.
I don’t even recognise what music this is, other than it’s not a waltz.
As I grapple for memories of my previous life, Kyor draws me to him, the strength of his movements guiding me, leading me.
His body presses against mine, and unwanted heat floods through me.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll go slowly,’ he whispers against my ear.
The heat of his presence becomes stifling, and I realise this is nothing more than another excuse to torture me.
His thigh brushes mine again and again, and each turn and step drags me across the hard lines of him.
I wish Llin had never cut that damned front panel out.
As I struggle to keep my breath even, his eyes catch mine and I see the glint within those pale irises. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and I hate him all the more for it.
Other than his initial remark, we’re silent as we dance, though words aren’t needed given that the taunting caress of his flesh against mine says it all.
The thin fabric of my dress is barely a barrier for my hardening nipples, which ache with every brush of my chest against his.
My legs want to twine around him, not step neatly in time with him.
In fact, every part of me screams to close the last inches between us, to feel his mouth on mine, to tear away civility and give in to the mess of need clawing at my insides.
Need I never thought possible; it is primal and desperate and affecting every fibre in my body.
And the worst of it? He knows. I can feel it in the way his hand presses just a fraction firmer on my back, in the way his breath ghosts my ear, making me shudder. The tension between us is so thick I could choke on it, and the urge to run my hands across his skin is almost overwhelming.
As Kyor twirls me across the dance floor, I feel the weight of a hundred sets of eyes. Watching. Judging. Whispers ripple through the crowd, speculation sparking in every stolen glance.
Among them, I catch sight of Zelle. He’s dressed in his uniform – a clear indication that he’ll be working and not enjoying the frivolities tonight.
Still, he’s smiling as though the sight of Kyor and me moving in step – so different from our usual sparring – pleases him.
When his gaze finally locks with mine, that smile deepens.
A moment later, he’s melted back into the crowd. No doubt back to work.
Finally, the music comes to an end, and the moment Kyor’s fingers release mine, I flee into the crowd without a backward glance. I agreed to a dance, not to a conversation. Thankfully, I see salvation in the form of the formally dressed Benny and head straight towards him.
‘Where have you been all day?’ I ask, trying to focus on anything other than Kyor Knavin.
‘Just praying,’ he replies. ‘Are we going to talk about that?’ He gestures to the dance floor.
‘No more than we’re going to talk about your “praying,”’ I fire back sharply.
He winces a little, and I know I’ve found my mark. Whatever Benny was doing, it wasn’t consulting the higher powers. ‘Fair.’
The music begins anew and apprehension curls in my gut as I watch Kay and Hew dance together again.
I press my lips together. She doesn’t know that two dances in a row signal serious intent, that Hew is telling all others that Kay is his to court, and that by accepting the second dance, she is telling the rest of the nobles the same.
Kay’s practically floating in her green dress, eyes sparkling with joy. I have to admit that she and Hew make a striking pair; there’s no doubt about that. And from the way he glides, pulling her into every turn, the only way he’s been stepping on her feet is if it’s been deliberate.
I scan the crowd, trying to spot Artur, only to realise I have an issue.
I no longer know what Artur Lorathin looks like.
My memories of him are hazy at best, and the truth is, I struggle to see a face I recognise outside of the Rettlings.
What I need is to find Jonas so that he can reintroduce us.
Changing plans, I begin looking for my fellow Rettling, but before I can even work out where to start, a voice cuts through the ballroom.
‘Murderer! Korvane, you will pay for what you’ve done!’
A second later, the room is engulfed in total darkness.