For a moment, he scanned before his gaze stopped at the center of the square. A petite woman with brown hair stood talking to her friends. Her curly locks hung just past her shoulders, and she wore a garnet-colored dress. She wasn’t stunning, but I’d bedded worse.
Roark followed my gaze. “No, Your Highness.” He lifted his finger and pointed to a nearby woman. “Thatis the female who refused the invitation.”
My vision narrowed on the woman wearing fitted tan pants and a near-matching shirt, both articles dirty as if she hadn’t bothered to launder them in at least a week. A dark inked tattoo scrawled down one of her arms, tainting her skin. Her long brown hair was greasy, the locks straight and separated—no doubt weighed down from body oils. A long bath would do her well.
“Her?” I frowned, hoping he would tell me I again had set my sights on the wrong female.
Roark nodded and kept his attention on her. The conversations surrounding us slowed, but she seemed not to notice. She bit into a dirty, half-eaten carrot while engaged in conversation with a dark, curly-haired man. Though she wasn’t much to look at, there was something interesting about her.
“Send the invitation over to her on a gentle wind,” I ordered while the growing crowd continued to hush.
Roark nodded, held the invitation on the palm of his hand, and blew out a breath. It was barely enough to float the paper up before he raised his hand and sent a stream of air magic out.
The invitation dipped and rose as it made its way across thesquare, a beautiful dance on a draft. Several people gasped at the sight, likely not remembering what it looked like to see magic conjured right in front of them. While everyone watched, my eyes remained locked on the target. My target.
The aqua paper landed inside an empty crate on the cart in front of her. She looked down and eyed it suspiciously. Seconds later, her vision popped up, scanning for the source of the invitation. I stood and waited for her stare to meet mine. When it did, I stepped toward her and watched as her mouth fell open.
The area hushed, the crowd’s attention divided between the woman and me. It was an odd feeling to have someone other than my father draw attention away, but I was gripped too.
By the time I made it to her, everyone had bowed except for one—her. A guard on my left roared at her, shouting orders and pushing the woman down to the ground.
I bolted to her side, shouting commands as I went down, “Don’t touch her! Get away!” My gaze darted over her strong curves, assessing for injuries.
“Yes … yes, Your Highness,” the guard spluttered, “apologies.”
He hadn’t acted out of line. In fact, I appreciated when the defiant were put in their place, but the woman wasn’t contemptuous. Rather, my presence surprised her, as it did many others.
I helped her to her feet, where she offered a bow. “Apologies, Prince Sutton.” The woman looked up, letting her hazel eyes land on me like a feather on the breeze.
I cleared my throat and gathered my composure. “What is your name?”
“Audryn,” the woman responded, her voice soft on her full, pink lips.
“And your family name?”
She shook her head, her brows furrowing. “Is that required to address you?”
Her posture changed; her body rigid and mouth flatteninginto a thin line. Whatever desire I suspected she’d had for me vanished in an instant. I’d somehow offended her.
Drawing back, I frowned. “I suppose it’s not.” Never had someone refused to provide their family name. “I was told you wouldn’t attend the ball, unless given a personal invitation.”
“That is incorrect,” she remarked curtly, casting a bored expression.
I floated my eyes to Roark, who shrugged and mouthed words I couldn’t begin to decipher. I turned back to Audryn. “Was that not what you told Guard Roark?”
“It was not.”
I thrummed my fingers against the hilt of my sword as my face heated. She was flat-out hostile. Looking around at the murmuring crowd, I continued, “Please share the conversation as you see it.”
She smirked. “I said, if I were to be invited, it was only reasonable for you to invite me yourself. I never stated I would attend.” She looked up at me from under her long lashes. “Even if the prince himself were to invite me, I had no plans of accepting.”
My jaw worked, biting back obscenities too improper to speak in front of the crowd. To show frustration was to show weakness, and I would not be perceived as weak. And certainly not at the hands of an antagonistic female. If I wanted an argument, I’d seek one later with my father.
“I see.” I attempted to keep my tone airy. “This is the last ball before I announce my engagement. You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you chose not to attend.”
“Is that an option?” Audryn looked at Roark. “Because your oaf said it wasn’t.”
For the first time in a long time, I stood silent, words escaping me as my breath picked up. Her attitude was enraging, but I should have expected such given her appearance—she obviously didn’t care what anyone thought of her.
