One hand was wrapped around the hilt of his sword at his side lazily. His sleek muscles strained beneath the basic cream-colored tunic he wore, almost as though he’d not thought it necessary for him to dress up for such an event. His waist was strapped with a sword belt—three smaller belts making up the whole of it. A brown leather scalloped pad sat on his left shoulder, capping his strong muscles, and a small brown belt strapped across his chest. There was no cape attached to this shoulder pad as there was on her own brother’s. This was simply an adornment of his status: the Commander of the only actual army Haerland had ever unleashed on her shores.
On his bowed lips, he carried a soft domineering smile that Nyssa wanted to slap off his perfectly gorgeous face. She allowed her gaze to wash over him the closer he approached, noticing the bare of his feet, the golden goblet in his hand. And when he finally reached them, he set his cup on the table, soft eyes looking down his nose at her, mouth slightly agape, and then he looked straight past her to Bala.
She didn’t miss the teasing smile that rose in his eyes, replacing the smolder, and he relaxed sideways against the tabletop.
“Looking delectable, Bala,” Nadir told her.
Bala looked as though she would burst into laughter. “Mmhmm… Don’t come over here acting as though you’ve any interest in speaking with me,” she mocked. “I’m aware of the circumstances.”
“So then you’ll be a good friend and stand here acting as though I’m talking to you while I speak with the Princess,” he said, turning his attention back to Nyssa.
Bala chuckled behind her cup. “You’ve two minutes.”
Nyssa's cheeks reddened beneath his stare, her heart constricting at the sight of his cerulean gaze penetrating through her own. He reached out for her hand then, and she cursed herself for the quirk of a smile on her lips.
“Hello, Princess,” he purred, lips brushing her knuckles.
Her jaw tightened to keep herself from grinning. The wine was still very much relevant in her body, and she felt the swim of courage pulse through her just as much as she felt the heat radiating over her entire body.
“It’s Nyssari, right?” he asked.
“Nyssa,” she answered.
“I’m—”
“I know who you are, Commander,” she said, hugging her cup tighter to her chest. “You’re the one I’ve been told not to flirt with or become engulfed upon, although I’ve not really been told why. Which leads me to believe you’ve either done something very wrong or very right, and my sister simply doesn’t want my heart to be broken by such a man.”
Nadir paused, apparently considering her words. “That—”
“Sounds exactly correct,” Bala cut in behind them. “Ninety seconds.”
Nadir grunted under his breath. “Your sister is overprotective.”
“She’s my sister. She’s supposed to be.”
“Are you going to stand here speaking about the Queen, or are you actually going to compliment the beauty standing before you?” Bala cut in.
“I can’t speak to her if you keep interrupting,” he glared.
Bala pushed her cup to her smiling lips, and she turned her attention to the dancing again, catching Dorian swinging one of the Scindo twins around.
Nadir didn’t say anything as his throat bobbed, and his gaze darted over Nyssa’s face once more.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Ah…” a quiet scoff left him, and he glanced down at the floor before meeting her eyes again, a small yet nervous smile on his face. “I’m sorry. This is… it’s difficult to be here and not allow myself to try and swoon you.”
“So why did you bother coming over?”
“Honestly, I was hoping you’d be this horrendous person and tell me to fuck off. Save me the pain of having to walk away from you without at least asking for a dance.”
A soft laugh left her, and when she met his smirking, delight-filled gaze, she was reminded of the words her sister had said.
She sat her cup on the table before crossing her arms over her chest. “Perhaps you could describe the dance we would have had instead.”
She watched his throat move with deliberation once more, and she knew he was trying to work out her game of whether she was serious or not. His eyes traveled over her, lingering on her dress only for a moment before he set his own cup down and turned directly to face her. “I—”
“That’s time,” Bala said as she pushed off the table.
