If there was one thing elves knew how to make well, it was cake. Lucenna intently scrutinized the glazed tarts and fruit pastries displayed on the fancy-tiered plates set upon the dessert table. She ignored her friends prattling on about the spectacle Cassiel was going to make of himself as he strode for the king’s table. She might have stepped in his way in the past, but with so many guests in attendance, he stood to make a fool of himself all on his own.
She had no interest in making herself one, too.
“I suggest the lemon cake.”
Lucenna stiffened at the sound of Klyde’s voice behind her. “Why is that?”
“I find them to be the perfect amount of bitter and sweet.”
Was that supposed to be a euphemism about her of some sort? Or was he toying with her again? She truly hoped he hadn’t already seen her eat three of them.
“Sounds as if that would suit your tastes better,” Lucenna retorted as she turned away from the table and took a sip from her goblet. She kept her eyes trained on the swaying elves moving across the dancefloor.
“It certainly does,” Klyde murmured.
Lucenna’s face warmed at the way his low reply seemed to rumble in her ear. She took another drink, and the cloying taste of wine settled heavily in her stomach. Gods, she refused to look at him. Which was completely ludicrous. This man should not have this much power over?—
The moment Klyde stepped into view, all of Lucenna’s thoughts vanished. Her heart dipped in her chest and fluttered wildly as she took in hisface, free of the mangy beard he had had all winter. She visually traced the chiseled cheekbones and the fine angles of his perfect jaw.
He wore a fine waist coat in midnight blue, the collar detailed in gilded filigree, accompanied by pristine black trousers and boots. He’d been ruggedly handsome before, but this … this was absurd.
Klyde’s blue eyes gleamed in the low candlelight, and his mouth curved as he took in whatever expression was on her face, making his dimples appear.
She swallowed.Damn it.
“Do you need something?” Lucenna asked dismissively. She moved, so he was no longer in her view.
Klyde chuckled. “Well, I do have a request for you, love.”
“Are you to ask me what I think of your hairless face again? Do you wish me to brandish you with praises of how handsome youbelieveyou are?”
He flashed her a grin, and his finger trailed over her shoulder as he adjusted her fallen dress strap back into place. The unexpected touch left tingles on her skin. His gaze roamed over the thin fabric clinging to her body. “If I’m drunk enough, I may end up singing a ballad of praises about a moonlit lass.”
Lucenna’s cheeks flamed, and she looked away. She never knew what to say when he said such things. He was only attempting to get a rise out of her. “What do you want?”
The question seemed to weigh more than it should have. His lips curved in a half smile, small and rueful. There was an answer in his gaze that made her stomach tight. She suddenly felt hot all over.
Klyde took her goblet and set it on the table. “Well, could I interest you in a dance?”
“No.” Lucenna snatched her drink back. The last time she allowed that, she’d almost fallen for his coquetry. Elvish music was too soft and slow—too intimate. To imagine herself dancing to such music while in Klyde’s arms made her pulse leap. “Go find another mindless girl to dally with. I am busy enjoying my wine.”
But before she could take another drink, Klyde downed the rest of it, his throat flexing as he swallowed. She gaped at him angrily.
With a smooth move, Klyde twirled her to the dancefloor. “Indulge me for a song before you lose function of your feet again.”
“I think you would trip over yourself first. That goblet was nearly full.”
“You’ll find I have more practice holding my drink.” Klyde dipped her with the next turn. Her heart lurched as he hauled her up with his easy strength and brought her close to his chest again.
Klyde’s gaze flicked past her, and she followed it to the King’s table as Cassiel excused himself and Dyna. Everyone stared as they left the ballroom.
Lucenna exhaled an annoyed breath and moved to follow, but Klyde stopped her.
“They need to resolve it for themselves.”
“What is there to resolve? Cassiel betrayed her.”
Klyde sighed. “He lied to protect her, and he unequivocally regrets it. There is nothing he wouldn’t do to take it back.”
