“I can dance,” Kailia said, stacking her mental defenses and reminding herself not to stab anyone. It was why she’d opted forthe smaller knife rather than her dagger. If she did stab anyone, it wouldn’t be as bad. In theory.
She stood, and Cethin did the same, pulling her chair back for her. Getting out from behind the table with the train and layers of dress was a feat. The dress had been better than she’d expected though. It left her room to move and access her knife.
Facing Razik, she took his hand, resting her other on his shoulder. All the time at the dance studio in the last week had made her comfortable enough to touch him. Not like Cethin, but in a way that she wasn’t questioning his intentions. They’d both made it clear where they stood on things, and that was refreshing. Clear and simple terms. Guard and queen. Maybe something bordering on friends? He didn’t coddle her and wasn’t afraid to say things bluntly, and she appreciated that.
“Are you doing okay?” Razik asked, guiding her through the steps like he’d done countless times these last days. In the end, it had been more about getting her used to being touched than practicing the actual dance steps.
“Fine enough,” she answered, reminding herself to smile.
“These aren’t my favorite things either,” he said. “They just come with the position.”
“You are always in attendance at events like this?”
“Usually on duty, but yes. Since I was a child. My father was close with Cethin’s parents, so I was forced to spend time with them and him,” he answered, twirling her out and pulling her back.
“I asked Cethin. About the two of you. Like you told me to,” she said, watching his features carefully, but in true fashion, he gave away nothing.
“Great,” he replied. “Then you can stop bothering me about it.”
She frowned slightly. “He told me Tybalt is your uncle.”
That had his jaw clenching. “He’s my father in every way that means anything.”
“But do you know your parents?”
“This is not the place, Lia,” he gritted out. “And even if it were, I wouldn’t discuss it.”
“I’m prying.”
“Yes, you are,” he said, his fingers flexing on her waist.
“I apologize.”
He sighed. “You don’t need to. It is simply not something I discuss or dwell on.”
“You definitely dwell on it, but I can understand not wishing to discuss it.”
“I do not dwell on it,” he grumbled. She shrugged, and that seemed to irritate him more. “I don’t dwell on it,” he growled again.
“You certainly let it have control over you.”
“Enough, Lia,” he snarled.
“Sorry,” she murmured. They danced for another few moments in silence, before she said, “Can I ask you something?”
“The gods know I can’t stop you.”
She sent him a bland look, but before she could ask her question, the song ended, and Razik was releasing her.
“I’ll help you get back to Cethin,” he said, stepping closer while keeping others back.
They’d made it a handful of steps when someone intercepted them.
“Your Majesty,” the male greeted, bowing deeply.
It took a minute before she recognized him. The pitch black hair and grey eyes. Warm skin like her own. The new lord, Corveth Astor. She wasn’t used to seeing him in such formal clothing.
“Congratulations again on your union,” he said as he straightened.
