“And ye’re lovely,” he countered, leaning down to kiss her softly.
The kiss lingered, warm and filled with unspoken promises. When they finally parted, Helena rested her forehead against his. “I should go meet Felicia.”
“Aye,” he murmured, though his arms tightened around her briefly. “But I’ll see ye later.”
She smiled, brushing a hand over his cheek before stepping away.
She could see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he watched her. She knew what he was looking forward to, and the blush on her cheeks and tingling in her limbs made her wish she had just finished dinner and not breakfast.
The Great Hall was alive with celebration, candlelight flickering off the stone walls and casting a golden glow over the gathered guests. Garlands of ivy and winter roses draped the beams overhead, while long tables were laden with roast meats, freshbread, and golden pastries. The scent of spiced wine and honeyed fruit filled the air, mingling with the laughter and music that echoed through the chamber.
The feast was in full swing, and at the head of it all sat Alexander, his hazel eyes sharp and assessing as he watched over his people.
Helena sat beside him, a goblet of wine in her hand, though she had taken only a few sips. The warmth of the evening, the steady hum of conversation, and the flickering torchlight made the moment feel oddly intimate, despite the crowded hall. She could feel Alexander’s presence beside her—his solid form, his warmth, the casual way his fingers drummed on the table between courses.
“Ye’ve barely touched yer wine, lass,” Alexander murmured, leaning closer so only she could hear.
Helena raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I dinnae wish to dull me senses. Ye seem the sort to take advantage of such a thing.”
A smirk played on his lips. “Ach, and here I thought ye might loosen up a bit if ye had a drink or two.” His voice dropped, rich with amusement. “Or are ye worried ye might let slip that ye actually enjoy me company?”
Helena scoffed, setting her goblet down with a quiet clink. “Dinnae be ridiculous.”
Alexander chuckled, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “Aye, of course. I must be mistaken, then.”
The way he was looking at her—so knowing, so confident—made her pulse quicken. He had a way of seeing right through her, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.
Before she could think of a retort, he stood up and offered her his hand. “Come,” he said simply.
She blinked at him. “Come where?”
“A walk.”
Helena hesitated.
The room was warm, the heat of so many bodies pressing in, and a breath of fresh air was tempting. Still, she didn’t like the idea of following him just because he said so.
He sighed, his fingers brushing against hers before he took her hand, his grip firm. “Ye can argue with me, or ye can walk with me, but either way, I’m takin’ ye outside.”
Helena let him lead her out of the hall, ignoring the curious glances of a few guests.
The garden was quiet, the air crisp and scented with the faint fragrance of frosted roses. The sound of laughter and music drifted through the open doors, but out here, beneath the vast stretch of night sky, it felt as though they were in their own world.
Alexander slowed his steps, glancing at her. “Ye look beautiful tonight.”
She turned her face away, though she felt the warmth rise in her cheeks. “Ye say that as if ye’re surprised.”
He chuckled, stepping in front of her so she had to stop. “I’m nae surprised, but I dinnae think I’ve told ye before.” His voice softened, but there was a possessive edge to it. “And I should.”
Helena’s heart pounded. “Ye can be rather difficult, ye ken that?”
Alexander smirked. “Aye, I ken.”
The music in the hall swelled, the sound of a lively tune carrying through the air.
Alexander tilted his head, listening, then turned his gaze back to her. “Dance with me.”
“In the garden?” she asked, amused.
