Page 7 of Frost and Death
Niko opens the door, exchanging hushed words with the guard.
The man walks to the opposite side of the ballroom, alerting the announcer of my arrival.
I cringe when the clanking of the announcer’s staff hits the marbled tile floor. Ice swirls to life in my chest, a figurative mask taking place as the man’s booming voice silences the room.
“Presenting your host, Queen Tove Clemmensen, and her royal advisor, Lord Nikolaj Drost!”
Bile lurches in my throat as we stride forward, light and bright music filling the quiet void.
Warmth from the lanterns and chandeliers complement the beige-marbled pillars adorned with roses of red, orange, yellow, and white. Shrubbery accents the back walls, framing the high arched windows and wide glass doors opening to the courtyard. The foliage and flowers drape across the ceiling, parallel with the lush runner resting on the steps of the dais.
Niko escorts me through the crowd of nobles, who each lower their head or curtsy. But as we pass, the hushed whispers follow, the awful nickname screeching against my ears.
The walls cage and close me in, and my nails dig into Niko’s sleeve as I pretend to be unaffected.
“Ignore them,” he urges.
I nod to myself more than him as I keep my expression blank.
As we reach the center of the room, Niko asks, “Ready to dance?”
I beam.
Anything revolving around music is my true calling. From playing piano and swaying on my bench, to the crescendo and buildup of a ballad, to dancing to the violinists in a waltz. Losingmyself to the rhythm of any song grants me a haven of joy nothing else in this world ever can.
“Yes,” I reply.
Niko guides me into position, and I note the warmth emanating from him. His touch is so close to my bare skin, the hand resting on my back lower than protocol dictates.
My cheeks warm at the thought he is comfortable with me and not merely flirting.
When the music starts, our bodies touch, and I am embraced and woven into the light rhythm. We sway to the elevation of the composition, my heartbeat increasing from the movements, sweat beading along my brow.
I spare a glance around the room, noting the guests and couples paired together, smiling and conversing. But when eyes meet me, a chilling breath caresses the nape of my neck. Each scornful stare is a sharp note not intended to pair with the song.
As Niko pulls me back into the dancing, my head is swimming, and a weight pinches the tips of my toes.
I try to shield my wince.
Niko’s expression turns apologetic. “Why did it have to be a waltz?” He groans, twisting me out.
“I can always lead if you want.” I snicker as he loops me back in.
“How is that going to work when I have to be the one to show you off?”
The decorations in the room blur as we spin, menacing stares of guests fade away as the push and pull of the waltz settles deep in my bones. My body relaxes as the music calls to me, the rhythm twinkling with my movements becoming more expressive as I bask in the dance.
“You look radiant tonight, Tee,” Niko whispers.
My heart constricts at the compliment, wanting to believe it, but my reflexes have me deflecting. “You’re killing it with the flirting, Niko.”
He pulls a mocking face as the crescendo builds. Niko lifts our hands, spinning me rapidly, my eyes keeping a spot on him to refrain from getting dizzy.
His boyish grin grows with each twirl, tugging my own lips to lift as the world around us quiets. Niko dips me as the music reaches its abrupt conclusion, the two of us breathing heavily. My heart skips as his face inches close to mine, and I lick my lips in anticipation.
The glow of joy shines in his amber eyes. And so does something else.
The thunderous applause draws a sharp breath from my chest, turning away from the proximity of Niko’s lips. Embarrassment shrivels in my core, my feelings getting the better of me as Niko guides me upright.
