Page 20 of Nightingale

The flute took over, the harp falling back as a melancholic aria started and Castil danced with grace alongside it. Warfare was not the only thing he was well-trained in, then.

They remained quiet for the rest of the song and she was tempted to tear her hand from his and insist that they sit at the table in blissful silence. Until Rian walked in. Castil followed her line of sight, inhaling and exhaling deeply. When he returned to her, he scanned her face, finding something there that she wasn’t entirely sure of.

“Another dance would piss him off.” He suggested and Vrea heard the biting sarcasm that he held back. She didn’t know why, since she engaged in several forked duels with him when it came to retorts.

“Make it two.” Vrea grinned and his features lit up with astounded delight. She wasn’t a big fan of dancing with him, but her anger with Rian took over at the moment and she was willing to put her hatred for Castil aside if it meant shoving one large finger towards the Golden Heir.

“As you wish, Nightingale.” Castil purred and an ember of loathing returned.

She scowled as he turned her enough that her expression wouldn’t be seen by anyone other than him, and relaxed it once she faced Rian. The next song began and it was slower, which was even better. Castil flipped her around with feline skill, her back meshed flat against his chest. Within the way that space barely seeped through, she could sense his heart and the way it raced.

If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was nervous.

“Take a look.” He murmured in her ear and she tried to fight the shivers it caused. “It’s working.”

Vrea angled her chin west, finding the tiniest glimpse of the youngest Prince. His skin nearly matched his hair as he slumped into a chair across from them, perfectly in view of their bodies working together. Satisfaction curled into her, delicious revenge for the cruel things he’d said.

“Hmm,” She hummed in delight, finding the scent of bergamot and lemon dancing in the air as they twirled again. It was enjoyable, more than she expected considering who it came from.

“Only hmm?” He pushed, locking their fingers together and allowing her to step out of his grasp in time with the flowing harmony of the cello and the drum. A soft trumpet blared as well.

“I said hmm,” The Princess snapped quietly so that it was only shared between the two of them. “Because he seems to have lost interest quickly.”

Castil tracked his brother, repeating her noise but with a disappointed resonance. “I see.”

Rian had started speaking with one of the ladies sitting at the table, laughing in a rich sound that reminded her of chocolate. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other in a casual way that informed them both that he didn’t care.

Her figure curled back into Castil’s, his arm draped acrossher throat like he might take a knife and slit it, watching the red trickle out. But only the cool feel of his fingers followed, a sensation that tickled her pride and her core. They left a moment later as his fingers did, trailing down her shoulder and finding her wrist as he delicately picked it up for the next move.

“He’s easily distracted.”

“I don’t blame him.” Vrea insisted as he flirted before her eyes with a pale beauty that had spun-gold locks that tumbled nearly to her backside. Her orange dress was revealing and thin, similar to the fashion of her first night.

Castil studied the woman and then dismissed her as if she were nothing but an annoying botherance. “She’ll find him bored come the morning.”

“I assume most of you do.”

“You can have your assumptions.”

“I will.” Annoyance darted through her as the song finished. She wasn’t very fond of starting another with him, even if she’d already agreed to one.

“Good.” He added with a bite that belonged to a beast. He dropped her hand, falling back a few steps.

Vrea met it with her own intensity. “Good.”

“Great.” Grey flared to quicksilver.

Even in his anger, he was stunning.

Castil was annoyed and she wanted to push it. Push him. So she said in a perfect reflection of his irritated tone, “Great.”

Something caught his attention and he gave his all to that instead of her. Then he was at her back once more, pushing her off the dance floor rather forcefully.

Vrea went to fight but he muttered, “Don’t. Just keep walking.”

There was strained panic in his voice like a violin. One that she unintentionally listened to as he led her up the three stairs and out of the main room. As his hand remained on her lower back and he hastily shoved her towards the stairs.

His father had held enough anger in his eyes that he could have burned them all there if he so much as wished it. The heated glances between Vrea and him must have set off warning bells because the King had subtly motioned for her to be escorted out. And considering the acts that the King was quite fond of when it came to people who pissed him off, Castil didn’t take it for granted.

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