Page 103 of Shade of Ruin

The thoughts are barely blips in my mind as I get lost in the dance. My body moving in time with Cole’s. The music swirls around us just as much as the flames do, and my body is as much an instrument of that music as any in the orchestra. It feels wonderful to let go and become a part of the dance. To not have to think about the world beyond the flames that surround us. Cole’s eyes are blazing orange as he stares at me, fire inside and around him.

He pulls me closer to him, and that’s when I realize I don’t even have to count. We’re just dancing. All alone in the world together. Just like last night, I stop trying to talk. And we dance. Song after song, we let the music carry us through the motions that we’ve practiced for so many hours.

Cole releases the flames from around us after I’ve stopped being so nervous. That’s when I realize that an entire quarter of the dance floor has been left to us. All but one male have evacuated.

Rhion.

Chapter 43

The steel cracks now, but that is not the first sign that the Thrones are failing. No, I saw the first sign the day my son was born. Rhion will never be strong enough

to hold the Crown. The Thrones are failing,

and I cannot merely wait any longer.

~King Gethin, personal journals

Rhion stands on theedge of the space we’ve been dancing with a grin. When the song ends, he approaches us, and Cole whispers, “You need to say yes.”

I give the faintest nod possible. We’d talked about this. This ball isn’t for Cole and me to dance. It’s for me to dance with any of the important nobles of both Houses if they’re interested. We’re only staying long enough that no one misses us.

Rhion is certainly important enough.

Like Cole, he stands out from the rest of his House. His blonde hair and incredibly large body aren’t surprising, but the lack of any metal on his body is. Where every other High Fae from the House of Steel is wearing some kind of armor disguised as steel clothing, Rhion is wearing almost the same outfit that Cole is. His silver silk shirt and a gorgeous black set of tails seem impossibly tailored to his body. A silver cravat is tied around his neck.

He approaches us, that same wide grin on his face that he’d had the first time I met him outside of Draenyth. When Cole had threatened him. The same grin he’d had when he’d left us in the ballroom two days ago after I paralyzed him.

“Lady Maeve,” he says, “may I have the next dance?”

The thought of touching him disgusts me. The thought of dancing with him is even worse. Like Cole said, what I want doesn’t matter, though. This is one of the last trials before I’m done with Draenyth. Done with Immortals and the constant danger. Done with…

“That sounds wonderful, Prince Rhion,” I say with as much formality as I can muster. The music plays again, and when Rhion offers his hand, I take it, allowing him to guide me into a much more formal version of the dance that Cole and I just finished.

“You know,” he says as I match his steps, “they say that dancing is a way to prove your bedroom prowess without ever taking off your clothes.” The smile on his face doesn’t fade as my body tenses. I do not want to have a conversation about bedroom prowess with Rhion. “Except that the only thing I’ve found that dancing proves is that you can talk and move at the same time. No one cares if you’re a good dancer, but they do care if you have good secrets to share.”

I blink. That’s not what I’d expected from Rhion. He doesn’t seem to pay very much attention to me, though, as he keepstalking while we slowly make lazy circles around the corner of the dance floor that Cole was kind enough to clear. “And I think you have a great number of secrets to tell. People talk about Cole trying to get under his father’s skin by betrothing you, but I think Cole has far more important things on his mind than some childhood rebellion against King Casimir. I think you have something special, and I’m not sure what it is.”

His blonde hair flows as though a magical wind is blowing around his body. His entire outfit seems to move differently than most people’s. That’s when I realize that there’s no separation between his outfit and his body. It’sa part of him.

I try to ignore my realization. To just keep conversation with him. “Well, Prince Rhion, please illuminate me on my importance. I’d love to know.”

I’m not sure if he means to remind me of a predator when he gives me a toothy grin, but he certainly does. “I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about because the Shade would never give a simple Wyrdling notice right now. And certainly not three separate times. That, combined with the fact that the Prince of Flames has betrothed you, makes me think that there is far more to you than anyone knows.”

I blink and glance down at my wrist where the three little tally marks lay. I’d thought that no one had noticed. Rhion had, but that doesn’t mean that I can let on that I’m anything more than I’ve pretended to be. I’m nothing more than a simple, powerless Wyrdling.

“Tell me, Prince Rhion, if we’re talking about debts, why would someone of your status ever need to call on a favor from the Shade?”

He smiles at me. “For the same reason that your betrothed did. We both did a terrible thing, and there are some things that money and power can’t buy forgiveness for. Now, why would theShade have any interest in a Wyrdling like yourself? I’m thinking it has something to do with that little ring you wear.”

“Doubtful,” I say. “Since the reason that I called for the Shade was because I accidentally hurt my cousin. Just like so many other Wyrdlings, from what I’ve been told, I hurt a family member and there was no healer that could fix what I did.”

The music comes to a crescendo, and Rhion spins me before bringing me back to him. When I catch another look at him, his eyebrow is arched. “That’s interesting. A healer could fix a burn or a cut from the Houses of Steel or Flame. Maybe it’s a Lesser House like Light or Water, but those rarely manifest with injuries. What kind of injury could you have caused to your cousin, Lady Maeve? The House of Earth is gone completely. That leaves the House of Shadows, but the House of Shadows doesn’t leave injuries.”

He cocks his head, that surprisingly thoughtful expression on his face. “I doubt that you’re from a Lesser House. There’s no way that the Prince of Flames would tie himself to someone from the House of Life or anything ridiculous. It’s a good question, don’t you think?”

The dance ends, and I stare at Rhion silently as I step back.The House of Shadows doesn’t leave injuries.What else could it be?

“Maeve,” Cole says loudly, pulling us apart, but I don’t stop staring at Rhion. I’ve never heard Cole or the Shade say anything about shadows being able to poison someone like that. So what is it?

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