Page 135 of Prince of Masks
I add to the challenge, “Do you love her?”
His frown pinches his brow. I almost think he won’t answer, but after a heartbeat, two, he says, “At times.”
The urge to roll my eyes is too strong. “Romantic.”
Dray has nothing to fire back at me.
His gaze doesn’t waver from my face, it wanders, his hold remains firm, but for the rest of the waltz, we are silent.
The melody eases into a soft quiet. The thrum of violin strings hum in the air, the pause between the dances.
Dray slips away from me with a single step back.
He looks down his nose at me, his jaw tense.
I spread my arms, then dip into a curtsy. I hold it for a mere moment, because he does not deserve more.
I rise, chin high, glower strong.
He takes my hand in his.
He lifts it to his mouth—then turns my palm upwards and plants a firm kiss on the bone of my wrist.
The touch of his mouth is warm on my skin as he whispers, darkly, “I’ll claim the second dance when I feel like it.”
His lips warp into nothing short of a wicked smile before he draws away from me.
With his retreat, a tension unfurls through me.
Still, he keeps me on edge for the rest of the night with that statement. To claim his final dance when it best suits him—and likely when it least suits me.
I wonder, fleetingly, if he waits for Eric now. That, the moment Eric Harling arrives, Dray will steal me away into the second dance, just for the sake of fucking with me.
The unease that the dance flooded me with lingers.
A heavy sensation of dread sways in my stomach like a wave washing over a shore, retreating back to the icy waters, then cascading over the rocks all over again.
It stirs a singe of nausea in my chest.
I mask it.
The skirt of my dress swishes around my legs as I move for the tables down the stairs. The tables feature a spread of snacks—but I snatch a fresh glass of champagne, then head off in search of Serena.
25
Serena is locked into a tumble of dances, one after another after another. If it isn’t Oliver, it’s Dray, if it isn’t Dray, it’s her brother, Dez, then of course any aristos bachelor who thinks they might be able to worm in between her and Oliver’s engagement.
It leaves little time for us to sneak off into the gardens—and Father is too at ease passing me off into dances with anyone and everyone.
Oliver takes one, Dez another, Landon too, and my feet areburningin these shoes after my second dance with Father.
I manage to slip away to the buffet table down by the Latona’s Pool, which is really more of an absolutely massive fountain.
I pile a few snacks onto a crystal plate, from caramelised popcorn and white chocolate macadamias to Scottish macaroons.
I back step alongside the buffet, passing the snacks, then the seafood, caviar and lobster and prawns, until the savoury foods inch into my line of sight.
I consider the sandwiches, the golden fries, the squares of truffle pizza.
