Page 19 of Nightingale

“No?” He asked with a hint of a challenge. “Do I need to spin you into another hidden area and search you for another pen? I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty, after all. Some here might consider there to be nothing filthier than a Niroulian, let alone a Greenvass.”

Her head roared in hatred as she demanded to know, “Someone beingyou?”

He snorted, “I never said that I shared that particular opinion.”

“You don’t need to. I see it written all over your face each time you so much as glance in my direction.”

“Doyou?” Castil angled his head to get a better look at her, showering her with the exact expression that she spoke of. “Shall I touch you and see if you’re correct in your original assumption? Tell me where you want my fingers and let’s see ifImanage to lose the contents of my stomach.”

Her blood chilled, her throat turned to sand and her stomach twisted at the idea of his hands roving over her in the same manner as Rian’s.

“I said I won’t take another pen tonight,” Vrea snapped, “It’s not like I have anywhere I could hide anything on me anyways. No need to get your handsfilthy.”

Castil emitted a scoff that turned the ice in her bones to a slow,vapid fire. “I’m sure that you of all people could come up with a smart hiding place for a simple writing instrument. But I’ll take your word for it.”

Brioc was already seated with a goblet that looked out of place- which meant that he supplied it for himself, and was deep in conversation with Regulus about something heated. If the scalding glares were any indication. Regulus bolted upright, cursed at his brother and stormed off.

A lively event, then.

The King was at the very tip of the table to no surprise, and his intrusive gaze landed on them. It lingered, far longer than she liked but she didn’t let him see how much it bothered her. Instead, she held it, lifting her chin high as he flicked his view to the left, towards his fourth son. A wily grin appeared, just the barest of smirks before he pulled away and engaged in a new topic with a counsellor seated to his right.

As she turned to see what the Prince would do next, she found Castil practically steaming with annoyance at the display. His white-blond eyebrows were scrunched down, his eyes crinkled with irritation and his jaw was firmly clenched as if he were biting his tongue from saying anything. Vrea couldn’t tell if it was because of his siblings or his father, but whichever it had been, set him off.

It was the first time she’d ever seen him… bothered. Byanything.Even when he’d brought her back to her rooms last night, he was the stiff man she’d come to know over the three years. This was something else entirely, something that perked up her interest and told her to pay attention.

“Let’s avoid the table.” He said as he noted her curious assessment of him, sweeping her down the three stairs with a guided hand to her lower back. Nothing past that and yet it still felt claiming, in a bizarre way. “I have a feeling that no matter what is discussed, it won’t be pleasant.”

“And you think anything about tonight will be?”

“No one is going to try to bed you.”

“Least of all you?” Vrea mocked his curt tone from last night and found herself immensely pleased with the half-growl that echoed from his long throat.

“Least of all me.” He answered.

“I suppose thatispleasant.”

“I’m sure.” The man scoffed again, the tips of his teeth appearing as he led her past the table, past Brioc’s inquisitorial stare and onto the dance floor where a couple of the soldiers had paired with ladies of the court. He didn’t give her the chance to argue as he took her hand in his, the other around her waist and drew her close. There was barely an inch of space between them and she ignored him as the music struck up. The harp whined, the cello moaned and the flute whistled a merry tune.

It wasn’t a fast dance, nor was it slow.

But it was all absurdly slow as she danced withhim.

Castil took the lead and she had no choice but to follow his fast motions, moving like silk in the wind as he spun her around and around. Their feet tapped in patterns of four and she found herself compelled to find each individual note of the song as they danced. Strange to find herself in this sort of predicament but for once she relaxed and allowed herself to be lost to the music.

In the last three years, she hadn’t been allowed to dance. Was this… a sort of freedom? A rare glimpse into a life she missed?

Vrea found anything and everything to look at but his face, the intensity of his eyes as he watched her succumb to the song. A woman began to sing and her heart lurched, wishing to trade places with her.

As if he could read her mind, Castil said in a soft tone, “Your voice is far superior to hers.”

“Is it really a competition if one side doesn’t really sing for an audience?” She questioned, locking gazes with him at last.“She’s very good. She hits the high arches without a struggle to be found, the lows sound natural and her medium resonance is quite pleasing to listen to. Even her flow is natural, you can’t hear any of the breaths she takes.”

“You are better.” He shrugged, lowering her as the notes dropped with them. The caress turned her veins to lead, the way it shifted into something warmer, fiery,hot.

She let his compliment sail by.

Castil lifted her back up slowly, hands tucked firmly on her thin waist and lifted her up, twirling in a half circle before setting her back down. The ribbons on her skirt wrapped about them both, and even she had to admit that the gown suited her, this event.

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