While every lord in this ballroom looked at me and saw a crown, he’d looked at me and seen a woman, one worth challenging. Worth condemning. Worth risking his life to confront.
The thought made me feel more alive than I had in years.
I shook my head, shoving aside the image. He was a rebel. I shouldn’t think about him with anything but contempt.
Needing air, I strode toward the balcony doors.
That’s when I saw him, a shadow within the darkness, leaning against the stone railing three stories above the gardens. The same sharp jawline, the same black hair swept back from his brow. Golden eyes reflecting the torchlight like a predator’s.
I froze. He didn’t move, didn’t try to hide. Simply watched me with that same intensity from the village square.
My heart thundered against my ribs. I had to be imagining him. He wouldn’t be bold enough to come to the ball uninvited.
I hurried toward the balcony doors. The moment I moved, he straightened, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
Every rational thought screamed at me to call the guards or pretend I hadn’t seen him. Instead, I found myself rushing toward the temptation I should be fleeing from.
He watched me approach with the stillness of a hunter who knew his prey was walking willingly into his trap. When our eyes met through the glass, something electric passed between us. Recognition. Challenge. And a heat that had nothing to do with the wine warming my blood. He tilted his head, his devastating half-smile promised things a princess should never want.
Fates help me, I wanted them anyway.
Maybe it was grief making me reckless. Maybe I just needed to feelsomethingthat wasn’t loss or pain or fear.
The world narrowed to us. Him, silhouetted against the stars like a god of vengeance. Me, trapped like a bird in a gilded cage.
He gave me a nod before turning and vaulting over the balcony rail.
“No.” The word slammed up my throat, drawing startled looks from lords and ladies nearby.
I rushed outside and gripped the cold stone rail, leaning over to search the gardens below. The drop was easily forty feet. No one could survive such a fall. But the manicured lawn beneath the balcony remained empty. No body, no footprints in the dew-kissed grass, and no sign that anyone had been there at all.
“Princess?” A guard appeared at my side. “Is everything alright?”
I stared into the forest surrounding the back part of the castle, the night air chilling my overheated skin.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
A figment of my imagination, conjured from wine and wishful thinking.
But as I turned to re-enter the ballroom, a single feather drifted down from above, landing on my shoulder.
Cinderhawk.
It lay on my exposed skin like an accusation.
Or an invitation.
I lifted it, studying the way the light caught its silvery surface. It was still warm, as if it carried the heat of the man who’d commanded the bird that it had belonged to.
I tucked it into my bodice before re-entering the ballroom, my heart still thudding too fast. The music and laughter felt hollow, a backdrop that couldn’t mask the tension rippling beneath the surface.
Father stood across the room, surrounded by a group of advisors, their heads bent close in conversation. One looked my way and gave me a slick smile. Discussing who I should marry? Absolutely not. I hurried over to them, arriving in time to catch fragments.
“—third noble family attacked thismonth?—”
“—supplies stolen from the southern garrison?—”
“—growing bolder by the day?—”
