Page 128 of A Ballad of Beasts and Brothers

The herald at the only entrance into the ballroom smashes his gold cane against the marble floor and cries, "Her Highness Princess Sylvane Basilius-Sol and her daughter, Princess Aurelia Basilius-Sol. Accompanying the princesses is Lord Atlas Harland of House Delaney."

All eyes shoot toward us, and I swear the music even sputters at our arrival. Everyone can't seem to get a good enough look at the lost princess. In the midst of thousands of scrutinizing faces pinned on me, Atlas loops my hand over his forearm and squeezes reassuringly. For a brief moment, it's just us in the ballroom, and all the stress and pressure I was feeling melts away. He winks and escorts me the length of the ballroom until we come to the Frost King's throne at the farthest end. We all show him due respect by bowing and curtseying, but the second I tear my eyes from the floor and stare at my grandfather, I see his gaze isn't on me like I expect it to be. No, his eyes are fixed on Atlas, or rather, our intertwined arms.

No one speaks until the Frost King smooths his frown and flashes a well-rehearsed smile. "The princess who was lost all those years ago has finally returned home!" His voice booms and one would actually believe he was excited for my presence, but I know better now. "Tomorrow night, my granddaughter will not only pledge her allegiance to House Basilius, but she will give her hand in marriage to ensure our House continues!"

Despite the applause echoing throughout the vast space, Atlas tenses and my mother side-eyes me. I suddenly feel guilty for not being forthcoming with them earlier. I understand the feeling of being blindsided and I know they're looking at me with questioning glares, and they're due an explanation.

Armas finally meets my line of sight and grins. "Welcome home, Aurelia." He claps his hands; the jarring movement startles me. "Music! Dancing! This is a party, isn't it?"

The music starts up again and the giggling couples take to the dance floor, enjoying the night.

We step away from the dais and once we're out of the Frost King's direct line of sight, both Atlas and my mother demand an explanation.

"Aurelia Basilius-Sol," Sylvane's eyes narrow. "What is he talking about? What allegiance? What betrothal?"

Atlas recoils at the word betrothal, but remains quiet, giving me the opportunity to answer my mother's rapidly fired questions.

"The Frost King came to my room before you two arrived and said if I wanted to be accepted back into House Basilius, I would have to pledge my allegiance and my hand to a Frost Elf by tomorrow night's ball." I snatch a glass of wine from a tray as a server passes by and guzzle the red liquid.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sylvane sighs, her shoulders droop.

"Because it's not your burden to bear, it's my fight."

"You don't have to fight alone, Aurelia." She scans the room before refocusing on me. "Chin up. Don't let anyone know there's a problem. We will figure this out, yes?"

I nod in silent agreement.

"Now," she rolls her shoulders back. "I need a drink." She grasps my hand and squeezes. "You will be expected to dance with foreign lords and dignitaries – "

"I know," I puff in irritation. That's the last thing I want to do right now, but I was briefed of my full dance card yesterday.

"I will find you later," Sylvane says, before slipping through the crowd to find herself that much needed drink.

Reluctantly, I spin around to face Atlas, but he's not there. I glance around to see if I can spot him but find myself face-to-face with a Frost Elf lord I've never seen before. He bows and smiles, "I believe I was granted the honor of your first dance, Princess Aurelia."

Shit.

All I want to do is find Atlas and talk to him, but royal obligations have already put a stop to it.

I offer the best smile I can muster before accepting the Frost Elf's hand. He's a pleasant dancer and decent with conversation, but as we twirl around the floor, my eyes scan for Atlas, or any of my Tronovian friends. Before I know it, I've danced with eight different men – four Frost Elves, two Hydrans, a Bavan and a Dwarf who seemed more interested in the low neckline of my gown than actually conversing.

I spot my mother the second the music fades, so before anyone else can ask me to dance, I beeline toward her. If anyone knows where my friends are, surely she must. Before I reach her, someone snatches my bicep and drags me backward.

"Dance with me."

I whip around, ready to attack whoever grabbed me, but see its Thrane.

"I'm not interested in dancing – "

"I don't remember asking," Thrane interrupts, sliding his hand to my lower back and pulling me close as the next song begins. "We need to talk," he says in a low voice.

"About what?"

"I heard our ancient-of-days grandfather is insisting you choose a Frost Elf mate by tomorrow night to be officially welcomed to House Basilius."

"You are certainly well-informed," I quip, since the entire ballroom is now well aware I must betroth myself by tomorrow evening. "But you're honestly the last person I want to discuss this with. Have you seen Atl – "

"Naturally. However, I'm not here to lament with you." He twirls me, ignoring the admiration from the other guests. "I have a proposition for you."

---