Page 26 of A Dagger in the Ivy

Nadya smiles and takes my hands in hers. “I promise. I am your faithful servant.”

We step outside my room, and the soft glow of candlelight casts shadows across the corridor. The weight of the ornate gown drapes overme, the fabric swishing softly with each step. Sir Holden Hale has now been joined by another guard, and the two of them fall into step beside us as we make our way down the corridor. It’s a weird sensation to have them accompany us. As commander, I’m used protecting the people, not having guards around to protect me.

Nadya veers off to a hallway on the right, and I say a silent prayer of thanks that she had been paying attention to the maze we were led down and knows which way to go.

I glance at Sir Holden, and the sight of his sword sheathed at his waist causes a realization to strike me like a bolt of lightning—I’ve forgotten something crucial.

“I’m so sorry.” I stop short, and Nadya shoots me a questioning look. “I need to go back to retrieve something.”

“What is it?” Nadya narrows her eyes. “You’re not planning on skipping the ball, are you?”

“No, I promise. I’ll just be a minute.” My gaze darts between the guards and then back to Nadya. “You can wait here. I’ll hurry.”

With a quick about-face, I retrace my steps, determination driving me forward. Sir Holden follows, but he can’t match my fae speed. I can’t believe I left my room without my weapon. I was so entranced by the gown and the pampering that I forgot about my dagger. I’d like to think that I’m safe in this castle, but the soldier in me trusts no one. I’d feel much more at ease if I could strap my dagger to my thigh. Granted, I’d have to dig through layers of silk and tulle, but if it came down to protecting myself, at least I’d know my blade was accessible.

As I round the corner, I nearly collide with someone coming my way. Suppressing my gasp, I take a step back to find Dante, who stands like an immovable statue in the dimly lit corridor. His expression is a mixture of cold detachment and barely concealed disdain, and for a moment, I find myself taken aback by the intensity of his gaze.

I finally take in the sight of the man standing before me. Tall and imposing, with rugged features that speak of a life lived on the edge, he exudes an air of intrigue that holds me captive. His piercing, grey eyes hold a depth of emotion that sends a shiver down my spine.

With a polite nod, I offer a tentative greeting. “Good evening.” I try to remember what Indira said: he’s only fond of his brother and no one else. I watched him in the courtyard; he had no regard for Sam or the others. But I’ve got to try to win him over. After all, we’re going to be family. “We haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Celeste.”

Dante’s expression darkens, a scowl marring his otherwise-handsome features. The intensity of what I can only assume is hatred is palpable, and it leaves me feeling raw and unsettled, my heart pounding in my chest. I’ve faced countless enemies on the battlefield, but the look in Dante’s eyes makes me feel more threatened than I ever have before.

Confusion knits my brows as I struggle to comprehend the meaning behind his demeanor. His hostility leaves me at a loss for words, uncertainty gnawing at the edges of my consciousness. It’s as if his loathing is a living, breathing entity that’s reached out and wrapped its fingers around my throat.

“I understand you’re the prince’s brother.” I make sure to leave out the word ‘half’ in case he takes offense to it. “It’s nice to meet you.” It’s a lie, but I’m grasping at straws here trying to smooth things over with him.

Shadows move over his face as he inches closer. His lips curl into a sneer, his grey eyes flashing with barely contained malevolence. “You don’t belong here.”

His words strike me like a physical blow, and I feel a surge of indignation rise within me. What is his fucking problem? “I beg your pardon?” My voice is like steel, tempered by the resolve of a seasoned warrior. “You know nothing about me.”

Dante’s expression remains unyielding, his features set in a mask of stoic indifference. “I know enough to understand you can’t be trusted.”

What? I can’t even reply right away because I’m so shocked by his accusation. Frustration streaks through my blood. “I don’t believe it’s up to you to decide where I belong.”

He raises a brow and scoffs. “We’ll see about that.”

Without another word, he shoves past me and storms away, leaving me seething where I stand.

CHapter

Twelve

Nadya’s brow wrinkles as I approach with Sir Holden close behind me.

“What did you forget?” she asks.

I lean close to her ear so the guards do not hear. I take her elbow and urge her to walk with me. “I needed my dagger.”

She keeps pace with me, looking me over as if searching. “Where is it?”

“On my thigh.”

“How did you—?”

“I cut the tulle beneath the gown so I can get to it quickly.”

Her eyes widen in horror.

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