Page 69 of Of Glass and of Gold

He tried to fight a grin of amusement while he backed up, leading me to the center of the room. When we stopped, a sudden realization slammed into me that had me wanting to cover the checkered tile with whatever remained in my stomach from this morning. “I don’t know how to dance,” I admitted in a whisper, fear swelling in my eyes.

We were far enough away from the sidelines, and with the plucky music beginning to wash over the room in building anticipation, I felt confident no one could hear. Though that would only stave off my embarrassment for so long. In a matter of moments, they’d all realize.

With all the grace of a prince, he swept his arm around my lower back and positioned our clasped hands high. The strong scent of bergamot washed over me, infusing my lungs with its spicy zest. “I’m going to take a step towards you when the violin plays, then you’ll step towards me. Then you’ll step left, then right.”

Before I had time to repeat the steps, the violin rang out above the temporary hold of the other instruments. As he’d said, he stepped forward. Instinctively, I stepped back. Barely a heartbeat passed before he retreated, pulling me with him.

“You’re a natural,” he purred in my ear.

His cheek nearly grazed mine, and I stared at that charming face when he was once again before me, emanating all the perfection of a god.

His gaze studied my hair, perused my fluttering lashes. I noticed the moment he fixed his attention on that tiny beauty mark that dotted my upper cheek. His alluring blue eyes beheld me in a manner that lacked all judgment. If I felt enticed to delve further, I would venture to say he held a look of admiration.

The shadows in the dimly lit room highlighted the masculine lines of his face and the curve of that soft whisper of a smile. We moved again in tandem, but I hardly noticed.

What did this man hold over me to make me act so lost around him? The symphony grew, the notes rushing around us in a magical breeze. He spun me, and I twirled with ease. With more force than I thought existed in a dance, he snapped me back to him, nearly knocking the breath from my lungs from the primal look bearing down at me once we reconnected, standing a hair’s breadth away from being chest to chest.

Again, he moved, and I followed. Something more than words was passing between us, a language I’d never used before but somehow couldn’t stop speaking. My heart felt light, unburdened by whatever else I was thinking before we’d started dancing.

Another twirl, only this time, he didn’t snap me back. His hand released mine, and I drifted a step before stopping myself post-spin. The skirt of my dress relaxed in time with the falling tune of the song, though a steady rhythm beat in my chest. A drum, beckoning me to close the distance that separated us.

As if he read my mind, he did. Anchoring one arm behind him, he held out his hand. The music had stopped, and I found myself longing for it to pick up again. But I placed mine in his, gently this time. He brought my gloved hand to his lips and pressed a kiss that cast a blaze over my knuckles.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he said, barely above a whisper. So quietly that I questioned if I’d made it up.

“Prince Nicholas, allow me to introduce Lady Gwenivere Hallsborough,” the cherub-faced man intruded upon the dance floor.

I wanted to reach for the phantom dagger that should be accompanying my side and chase away the interruption. Prince Nicholas finally tore his gaze from me, and I was able to loose a breath. Suddenly aware of the crowd reappearing before my eyes, I became overwhelmed. I ran from the spotlight, slinking away into the concealing crowd.

The music started again, but I couldn’t bring myself to look back. Instead, I kept going, racing toward the exit. The air in this room had become entirely too hard to breathe.

I couldn’t bring myself to return. I waited outside the ballroom as song after song concluded, anchoring my back against the wall, counting every beat as they barreled into my back.

A chorus telling me I didn’t belong here.

Li-ar. Trai-tor. Mur-der-er. The words pounded my skull in sync with the music. With my arms clasped around each other, I tried to ignore it. Tried to remember why I’d come here, what was important.

All the convictions I’d held when I’d arrived seemed less…sure.

I cursed myself. Was that all it took? A beautiful man with an intoxicating smile? To disarm me to the point where I doubted the things I’d been most sure of, most dedicated to?

Not to mention how dangerous it was that the prince knew my face at all. One report from a guard catching me with the wrong person at the wrong time in the market would doom me. How many staff had seen my face tonight on that dance floor? Or strolling through the gardens with my hands on the prince’s arm?

Muffled applause sounded from the ballroom, and I stood by while the doors opened and the patrons streamed out.

Through the flood of elegant gowns, I spotted my sisters and fell in step with them. Melody greeted me, but returned to the chittering conversation between her and Kenzie, their faces gleaming with delight. Kenzie uttered a slight protest when I snagged their elbows and hauled us to the front of the line to take one of the first carriages back home.

The confines of this small cabin became suffocating when they both turned to me with rapt attention.

“Nora, how did it happen?” Melody asked, eyes sparkling with intrigue.

“I told you how. She barged her way through the crowd and stormed onto the dance floor! We were all acting like ladies, waiting to be plucked from the masses for how regal our smiles shone. Foolish mistake.” Kenzie sat back, arms crossed, pouting over her failure to force her way on the prince.

“I was pushed, thank you,” I said, pinning her in place with a glare.

“Was it amazing?” Melody asked, leaning forward and clasping my gloved hands in hers.

The contact was too much. The question was too much. All of it, the fact that it happened, had me drowning in regret. I nearly forced myself through the back wall with how hard I pressed myself against the seat cushion, putting as much distance between their probing questions as I could.

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