Page 66 of Of Song and Scepter
And then, from the shadows of the doorway, Enna steps into the room, and all breath sucks out of my lungs, leaving me dry and wanting. The silver silk clings to her skin like moonlight on soft waters—but looking at her isn’t enough to soothe the ache in my chest. My hands flex at my sides, anxious again to touch, to claim, knowing I cannot have her. Not here. My pace quickensinvoluntarily, and I force my body into submission as I approach the princess.
“You look lovely,” I breathe.
Aris giggles before me, dropping into a curtsy, but my gaze still rests on her attendant. Enna’s eyes swim with emotion—distant, then sad, then angry. They transform from quiet lavender pools into burning, hot flames, and I flinch at the intensity. She flicks her gaze to Aris, who stoops before me, and my cheeks warm with embarrassment. I extend my hand to the princess, and she takes it, returning to her full height.
The crowd erupts into applause, and the musicians strike a joyful tune. Aris sidles close, looping her hand around the crook of my elbow to anchor me to her side. She gazes up at me with sparkling eyes. “Ready to whisk me off my feet, my prince?” she says, turning us toward the dance floor.
I follow her numbly to fulfill my duty, mentally calculating the minimum number of dances to meet the appropriate quota for a betrothed royal couple. Just one would be a slight on her honor; five would be tempting mine. An unhappy three, then.
We settle into a waltz, spinning across the dance floor. She clings to me, her feet barely brushing the ground. With every turn, I scan the room, locating Enna’s position among the faces. If I cannot have her in my arms, I can at least keep her in my sight.
And my heart aches, knowing that will never be enough for me.
Chapter thirty-eight
Enna
As the prince danceswith Odissa, I skirt the edge of the room, blending into the shadows. My dress is thin and hugs my curves, but the skirt is loose enough to hide the pouch I’ve strapped to my thigh.
I scan the room, assessing my targets. A male stands by the drinks, leering over a smaller female, his wrist clad in a gold chain bracelet encrusted with diamonds. He eyes the female’s lips and whispers something. She takes a sip of her drink and searches for a quick exit. Resolved, I slip through the crowd toward him, snagging a drink for myself on my way. I pour half of it onto a pink bouquet. I bump his elbow, disturbing his balance and drawing his attention. He turns abruptly, glaring at me with a curled lip. I blush and dip my head, locating the position of his bracelet.
“Pardon me, my lord,” I say, gesturing at my nearly empty drink. “I dunno what they put in this drink, but it tastes likemagic.”
Those eelish eyes lock onto my face, and he smiles. “Lord Varik, at your service. The pardon is mine, my lady,” he says, and his voice sounds exactly as I expect—slimy and dark, like he belongs in Vespyr.
With a snick of my claw, I unhook the bracelet, tucking it swiftly into the slit in my skirt. I make eye contact with the female and smile. “Oh, there you are, darling,” I say. “I wonder if I might have your opinion on which dress I should wear to the wedding.” I loop my gloved hand around her arm, and she comes away quickly.
We scurry from the table, arm in arm. She squeezes my hand once we reach a safe distance.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“I’ll leave you here.” I nod to the door at the back corner of the room. “There’s your nearest exit, if you need it,” I say, then slip away before she can say anything more or ask my name.
I secure my next three targets with similar ease, and within the first three songs, I’ve collected another bracelet, a ring, and a set of diamond hairpins. In a matter of an hour, I’ve collected more than I have after three weeks of sleepless wandering. This should be enough to get me started once I reach the Frost border. And if Odissa happens to marry the prince by then, I’ll already be established in my new life of freedom.
Satisfied, I tuck against a wall to watch the dancers. Odissa and Soren finish a spin as the music fades. His hands rest on the small of her back, large and strong against her frame. Through the thin silk dress shirt, I can see the mounds of muscle, and my spines rise against the gloves, remembering how those muscles felt this morning as they wrapped around me instead of her.
Look away, Enna.The ceiling hosts a vast frieze in its circular peak. Dredgebeasts lurk at the edges, dark finned shadows with teeth, contrasting the vivid depiction of Coral history. Colors shift in gilded highlights as the dancers move below, garments spiraling and reflecting under the gaze of their ancestors.
I eye the exit. There’s a narrow corridor that runs behind the ballroom, winding away from the heart of the palace. A right turn would lead me past the kitchen, where I could snag a snack for the journey. Then it’s a quick leap through a window, scaling the soft side of the building, and out into the streets.
Soren stands at the drink table, now.Goddess,is he everywhere I look? Is there no escape from him? I absorb the sight of him, allowing myself one last look. He smiles and thanks the servant, then lifts the punch to his mouth. His perfect mouth parts, touching the pink foam, and my own lips tingle, crying out for his kiss.
The door handle twists easily, opening into the dark corridor beyond. My chest squeezes with guilt, and I glance over my shoulder.
With a deep breath, I slip into the hallway and run into a wall of warm flesh, clad in leather and hardened with whitesteel.
“Going somewhere, dark-dweller?” Maroon eyes glow in the darkness, set within a red and white striped face. Her mouth curls into a smile.
Chapter thirty-nine
Soren
The band plays mymother’s favorite tune, and I settle into the easy rhythm of dance with her, grateful for the reprieve. Sometime during the second song, I lost sight of Enna. Last I saw her, she was sipping punch at the drink table and chatting with Lord Varik. But now, she’s gone.
Aris is occupied, thank the gods. Lord Varik has taken her off my hands, and for a sweet moment in time, I am absolved of her voice in my ear.
“Kind of you to share.” My mother spins into my arms, and I catch her, leading her into an arcing circle step. She nods toward the dance floor. “Tell me, son. Have you ever seen a waltz quite like that?”
