Page 68 of Of Glass and of Gold

“Actually, no. She’s an attendee tonight.”

“Well, that’s…an unusual approach?” He crooked his eyebrow. “So she’s in the running? And you’re interested?”

“No. I mean yes, but I…” Was she in the running? Did she want to be? Judging from her reactions, it certainly didn’t seem like it. That thought made something like longing root low in my gut.

“I didn’t realize it was such a complicated question.” Marco smirked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think she wants to be.” My gaze followed the path she’d essentially left in smoke from her blazing escape.

“Do you want her to be?”

My attention snapped back to him. Staring into his cerulean blue eyes, a trait shared by our lineage, I saw the weight behind his question. He asked it not only to hear the answer himself, but for me to have an answer to give.

I wanted to say yes. Wanted to admit how refreshing our conversations had been, how it felt like she was the only honest person in that whole gods damned castle. No facade, only raw reactions…Like the one when she’d found quick reason to excuse herself. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

I pushed past him again, this time with less brute force. He didn’t try to stop me this time.

The doors to the ballroom were the tallest in the castle, rounding to a dome top that sat nearly twenty feet high. Still, it felt like I had to squeeze myself through them, the pressure of each of these events growing stronger. Dancers still paraded on the dance floor with beautiful grace and symmetry, and guilt summoned its own presence. I should have been here, watching. All these ladies craved for a second of my attention, and I’d missed dozens of their dances.

Ricks’s fiery gaze speared me from across the room, and even the reinforced formal uniform couldn’t stop it from razing my skin. I’d definitely be hearing about my absence later.

When the orchestra’s song quieted to its finish, I strode through the center of the room, across the polished floor, to the red-faced man doing his best to keep himself together. “I’m here for my first dance, Counselor. I’m sure you’ve had time to decide which lovely lady will give me the honor.” With a dip of my head, I spun on my heel, bringing myself to the center of the dance floor.

In a blur of his stocky frame in a dark blue suit similar to mine, Ricks rushed into the crowd, retrieving his selection.

“Thank you all for your presence this afternoon. I hope the entertainment has been to your liking. I will now be honored to share a few dances.” Placing one arm in my front and my back, I bent at the waist, bowing to my guests.

A quick succession of ungraceful clacks on the tiled floor brought my attention to the lady who’d stepped forward. There was no stopping the smile that spread as I looked up to see Nora parted from the crowd. I extended my hand to her, trying to ignore how badly I wanted to feel the touch of her palm on mine.

34

Nora

Who the hell shoved me?

I craned my neck to look back, swearing I witnessed white, perfectly styled hair snaking suspiciously back through the crowd, leaving me to look like an utter fool. Every single eye fell on me. I should run, slip back into the crowd, and hide in the shadows.

But Prince Nicholas stood, hand extended, smiling with that dazzling smile of his. The one that ruled a kingdom. That enjoyed my company.

The one that only cared about himself.

A couple people in the crowd brought themselves to the edge of the dance floor. The aging man in dark blue ushered a beautiful woman forward. They exchanged confused glances between the prince and myself.

Yeah, I’m just as lost as you.

A stand off amid a formal sea of gowns and tuxes. Whatever magic cloaked that ship in the harbor could come in real handy right about now. This was a living nightmare for someone whose mission was to be stealthy and remain unnoticed.

I considered what would be worse: reject the prince outright in a room full of witnesses, or accept. Then the orchestra began, filling the room with a rising melody of strings. Slow, steady. Beautiful.

Maybe if I just stood extremely still, the prince would change his mind. See that a woman had already been selected for his dance, and she was the appropriate choice. Some would be eternally crushed to experience the prince’s blatant rejection in a room full of witnesses, but I was rooting for it.

I waited, expecting Nicholas to step toward the woman clearly better selected for his first dance. Once he moved, the focus would return to him, and I could slink away—though it would never be far enough.

My hopes were dashed when the prince decided. His hand remained outstretched until he stood directly before me. When I could again glimpse the blue in his eyes, I forgot why I wanted to resist so badly.

“Miss Nora, will you do me the honor?” His dulcet voice broke above the song of instruments still waiting for their moment to pick up.

“I can’t very well say no, can I.” I plastered on a fake smile as I forcefully slammed my hand onto his. Best to get it over with.

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