Page 9 of Beast and Remedy
Our bodies mold closer as the song amplifies, the musicians playing their instruments with focus. With my arm in his, hebraces for a lift, my leg draping around one of his as he swivels us.
“I’d be happy to create an occasion for your presence in Northtry,” he offers, lowering me into a dip.
He inches toward me, and my discomfort thaws he regards me. The dark, calculating aura I first saw melts away the longer he stares, and my heart skips.
“My-My sister and I would love to visit your home,” I suggest, using Marian as a scapegoat.
When I was a child, I remember meeting his family. Prince Stefan was near my age and his sister a few years younger. But with Northtry located in the northeast side of Draymenk, the only way to get there was through Hinbron’s Pass and the Dereen Forest, so the visits we took were… few to nonexistent.
Prince Stefan raises me with ease, spinning us twice. He guides our dance effortlessly, his charm and dancing etiquette luring me into learning more about him.
Is he fond of reading? He is athletic, which I understand, given who his father is. But with his impeccable skills for leading and dancing, I wonder if he appreciates the arts.
He might even be the first one of the night not to step on my feet.
My unease for another man touching me ebbs the more his lips stretch into a small smile.
I push away my feelings, distracting and deflecting from what this man is making me feel. “Tell me, how is your sister? Princess Zara?”
“My sister is well. I will be sure to extend your warm wishes,” he says as the song slows, the dance reaching its end. “We should correspond to plan your future visit. Maybe during one of the festivals for the Makers.”
“That would be nice.” I smile through my clipped response, knowing deep down I have no intention of drafting any letters to another royal.
“I look forward to writing you upon my return home.” Prince Stefan stops as applause breaks the silence and kisses my knuckles. “Now, I must uphold my promise to dance with your sister.”
The fervor in his gaze stirs heat in my cheeks as I breathe, “Thank you for the dance, Your Highness.”
“Please, just Stefan.”
I press my lips together, trying to hide my bashful smile. “Thank you, Stefan.”
“Always.” He smirks, his voice lustful and trailing around my mind as my sister approaches. He extends his open palm. “Princess Marian, eager for a dance already?”
“I am always eager when it comes to your company, Stefan.” She chuckles.
I blink at her boldness. Damn, Marian.
They hold each other’s gazes as I step back, wanting to slip into the shadows and escape, but Pierre catches me, forcing me beside him, Jean, and Papa.
My habitual royal appearance was already cracking at the seams through my aching cheeks and false smile. I tuned out their socializing after brief introductions, every male greeting me lacking substantial intellect.
Vexation brimmed under the surface of my skin the longer I stood with my family, my knee wobbling underneath my emerald-green dress. I waited impatiently for my sister to finish dancing with the prince so she could rescue me.
But she giggled and danced with Prince Stefan several times over, her shimmering gold gown bright and reflective, matching her pure radiance.
I almost make a move to stop her, but King Vinzent beats me to it.
The prince kisses her hand as they bid farewell, and I hold my tongue as she struggles to restrain her bustling, excited energy.
Her feet move toward me, but her interest remains on the prince as she waves him and his father goodbye.
Stefan catches sight of me at the threshold and dips his chin.
I curtsy before he parts, my sister’s elation and squeal stealing my attention.
“Stefan asked for us to join him for an upcoming festival!”
“Oh?” I say in pretend surprise, wanting her to have this more than I.
