Page 9 of Iris of the Crowned Flame

I realized my thoughts left me silent a beat too long. “Yes, sorry, I had planned to seek you out this evening, and you are indeed on my short list. I have heard good things and intended to understand more about you.”

His lips curved in a small, knowing smile. “Then allow me one more question: is there space on that list for me? Or should I content myself with enjoying your kingdom’s hospitality and look toward strengthening our nations in other ways?”

His smile deepened, not triumphant but genuinely pleased. “Then I am glad I did not squander this moment. I won’t take too much of your time, but know this — while the idea of a betrothal at dawn is daunting, if this dance were our last moment tonight, I would leave it content. Knowing you spared me a thought, knowing you spared me a smile — it would be enough.”

The band swelled into the first notes of a waltz. He gave a slight tilt of his head, his timing impeccable. “I’ll take the end of this song as my cue to release you back to your court. May I have the honor of bringing you a drink before you move on?”

I nodded, warmth rising to my cheeks as he bowed low, pressing a light kiss to my hand before he stepped away. My gaze followed him, lingering longer than I meant it to.

There was something about him —something I hadn’t expected. Clever, certainly. Calculated, yes. But beneath all that polished charm and diplomacy, there was a quiet fire, a man who knew exactly how dangerous the game was and played it anyway. I wasn’t sure yet if that made him a threat or an ally.

Perhaps both.

Either way, I found myself wondering what it would feel like to stand beside him — not as adversaries, not even as allies, but as equals.

As I looked away from him, my eyes landed on Ethan, who was leading the man I saw earlier towards me. I looked beyond them, noticing Katelle and Lord Denenbaum watch them until another guest took their attention from us. I took a breath to clear my mind from Prince Frederick, and smiled as Ethan and the man reached me. Ethan spoke first. “Princess Lyla, you look stunning tonight! You must be pleased with Eliza’s creation. She really outdid herself this time.”

I smiled at the compliment. He may have seen me earlier, but he certainly knows how to play up the charisma at these events. “Yes, she really has. I’m forever indebted to her for this look.”

I glanced down at my dress, admiring a specific orchid in her detailed embroidery once more. As I raised my head, Prince Frederick returned with my glass. He reached for my hand, and said, “Your Highness, as I promised.”

I took the glass of wine from him, and he turned to Ethan and the man, saying, “Gentlemen, I apologize, I shall not interrupt or monopolize our fair Princess’s time,” and then turned to leave.

I stared after him, wondering how much of his kindness was real, and how much was an act to charm. I hadn’t met many men who were truly kind for the sake of kindness, but it was still hard to know which way any person could lean. That Lord Luther chose him gave me appreciable pause, but his actions tonight spoke more in line with my values. How much is an act, and how much is genuine?

I brought my attention back to Ethan and the man, just ashe spoke again, “Lyla, please, let me introduce you to Prince Egan.”

The Prince bowed before me. “Princess Lyla, it is entirely my pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

His stiffness in speech revealed his nerves. One downside to coming from a kingdom like his, where your court isolates itself and protects their activities, must be this awkward lack of confidence. I noticed Ethan offer a small nudge, which seemed to signal him to rise from his bow. Before I could mask my emotions with a sip from my drink, a hint of a smile escaped, despite my best efforts. I decide at this moment to play nice and help him guide the conversation.

“The pleasure is all mine, Prince Egan. Ethan has told me so much about you! I have heard that you enjoy a good theatrical performance?”

“Yes, m’Lady. Er,” he coughed, realizing the faux pas in addressing me as a lady rather than a princess. I smiled again.

“Yes, Princess. The theater always helps me to feel so alive. I get lost in the magic of the costumes and the incredible talent of the actors. If I may ask, have you ever heard of the playwright Fennah Urvana? Her work always transports me.”

With that, the conversation took off. This man may not have formal training with meeting other noble dignitaries, but it quickly became clear that when you get him to talking about his interests, he becomes alive and animated. He genuinely seemed like a good choice for my political worries. We could teach him the formalities and how to exude confidence. I needed to assess his existing views on core issues of faith and society to predict how easily he could be influenced. Ethan seemed to have relaxed about him as well, and after several minutes of us discussing our favorite plays and playwrights, the band prepared to start a new song, and Ethan picked the right moment to interject. “Lyla, isn’t this one of your favorite dances? Egan, are you familiar with this one?”

Egan’s brows knitted together, and his gaze flickered with momentary disorientation, reflecting what must have been his train of thought sputtering to a stop. He quickly recovered andheld out his arm. “Princess Lyla, would you take this dance with me?”

I grinned while offering a quick curtsy and accept his arm. “Prince Egan, I would be delighted.” Ethan winked at us and accepted my glass as Egan lead me to the floor. The crowd parted a bit to offer us space to dance.

His moves fared much better than his social skills, and we easily navigated the song. I questioned him on the last play he had talked about, allowing the conversation to resume. While I knew I should have been discussing more about his beliefs to understand the man more, choosing him for the trials was a foregone conclusion, so I enjoyed the break in serious discussions. I reasoned I had plenty of time to understand him later, and perhaps staying on these easy topics will make it easier to get his genuine beliefs and values later.

After the song concluded, I shuffled through a few other suitors. We went through the same basic formula: I paused for a song to have a drink of water or wine; a suitor approached and talked with me for a few minutes while we waited for the next dance to begin, and we took a turn through the dance floor.

I was hoping to find Spencer much earlier in the night, so that I could formally talk with him, but he evaded me until nearly the end of the night. The crowd had thinned some, with many of the older men and women, as well as most of the married couples, retiring. Some eligible maidens from my court still mingled with the suitors, though most suitors kept a respectful distance, likely worried about how dancing or deep conversation with these women might be perceived. I felt for them, waiting to see who my cast offs might be. Taking a rare break from the long line of men wishing to impress me, I briefly considered whether we could organize a less formal evening in a week or two to allow these women a better chance at interacting with those I didn’t choose. This was when Spencer finally finds me, as I retrieved a fresh glass of water from a waiter.

“Princess Lyla, how lovely to see you this evening. Yourdress is just as stunning now as it was when you entered the room. Have you enjoyed the festivities?”

Why did his voice melt my insides? It felt like I was hearing a velvety purr, rather than the voice of the boy I grew up with. I felt butterflies stir inside as I turned to face him fully. I tried to mask my face, to hide the smile I have when I see him, but from the smile his face reflected, I knew I had failed.

“Prince Spencer, thank you for the compliment. I shall let my seamstress know of her immense successes.”

I watched his eyes trail down my body, and suddenly I became very aware of the heat within me that his gaze was causing. I quickly sipped from my glass to try futilely to cool myself down. How was I losing control like this? My mind drifted to the other times I felt this way, the evenings with Amyra that I won’t ever forget. I remembered the soft look of her pale blue eyes as she had leaned in to give me my first kiss. My mind jumped to the sweet taste of honeyed raspberries between her lips, how silky her black hair felt as it tangled in my hands –

“Lyla? You’re lost in thought, care to share what’s stolen your attention from me?”

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