Ved said more in Xaala, and she wondered if he was speaking to Exxo before he finally said, “I do not like this, Isobel Nott.”
“Nor do I,” she murmured with a sniffle.
“I can kill him.”
She laughed at the absurdity of the statement. “That is not necessary.”
His silence let her know he wasn’t convinced. As the song ended and they slowed to a stop, she stepped back. But Ved didn’t let her go, starting into the nextdance.
Smiling, she tried to find some levity. Just for a moment, she would like to forget everything about her upcoming ceremony. “You’re asking for a second dance? And right after the first? Why, King of Cleave, what will thetonthink? A king would never ask such a lowly spinster as myself to dancetwice.”
Ved squeezed her hand. “This king would. He’d have all your dances if he could.”
Oh.
He looked down at her and his gaze was so intense that he might have worn no mask at all.
She moved wrong, stepping forward instead of back. Ved picked her up, inches off the ground before she could stumble. For two heartbeats, she could feel each of his muscles tense as he slid her down to set her on her feet again.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He grunted.
Clearing her throat, she said, “Well, since you seem so fond of my company, Your Majestymustmean to propose, then?”
“Propose?” he said the word like he was chewing on it.
He twirled her around before rocking her back and forth again, improvising the dance moves. The song that was playing now was more upbeat and would send her off to another partner.
“When a gentleman is interested in marrying a lady, he’ll propose.” She held up her hand to show him the ring that Lord Richard had given her as the betrothal gift. It had belonged to someone in his family, but she didn’t recall who. By the looks of it, it was a relic, albeit a very expensive one. “He’d speak with her family first. And that would be after calling on the woman and getting to know her while they’re chaperoned.”
“You have no escort with me.”
She peered up at him. “And that is very scandalous. If anyone knew, I’d be absolutely ruined.”
“Why must there be someone? What is their purpose?” he asked.
“To ensure nothing dishonorable occurs, I suppose.”
“Like bringing an unauthorized weapon?”
Isobel laughed, and Ved moved oddly, throwing them off whatever rhythm they held. “Not quite. Everything we do is based on old traditions of ensuring the woman’s purity. Men, on the other hand, are rarely upheld to that same rigorous scrutiny. It’s all very droll.”
“So, these males cannot be trusted with a female alone, but they may bind themselves to her?”
“You catch on very quickly,” she said. “And if there is more than one person interested, the family usually decides on who is the best suited for her.”
He hummed a thoughtful sound. “I prefer the way my clan does it.”
“Does what?” She was so relaxed in his presence that she rested her head against his chest.
“In Runus”—his voice was a soothing timbre—“if your Richard and I both wanted you, you’d set a series of trials for us to undergo, to help you choose. And then, if you were still undecided, we would fight to the death for the right to claim you.”
“Oh,” was all she could say.
He pulled her closer—far closer than any dance of Dorsent required. So close that each word he spoke was thunder rolling through her. “I would gladly undertake any task you set before me and would crush him easily, even if he were Xaal. He doesn’t deserve you. But no matter what I wish, I cannot have you. He is the victor by default.”
Warmth spread through her even as her heart shattered. Isobel had refused to admit it to herself—her dangerous desire. For it woulddo her no good. She had long passed the threat of mere disappointment and was somewhere else entirely, some heretofore unknown depth of misery. “I cannot have you, either,” she said, her voice breaking.
