“She has a point,” says Queen Claudia.
Ronan buries his head in his hands to avoid looking at them. “Remind me to never let the three of you in the same carriage again.”
“That’s not fair. Sylvie didn’t do anything,” says Quinn.
He shakes his head at her, exasperated. “I’m not blaming Sylvie.”
“He’s no fun,” says Quinn, shifting so she isn’t facing him. “Queen Claudia. Let me tell you what I heard about Thad of House Nauta and his scullery maid.”
Quinn and Queen Claudia spend the rest of the carriage ride gossiping about the court, filling me in on the context wherever I’m lacking it.
I catch Ronan staring twice more. It sends a thrill through me each time, so much so that by the time we arrive at the palace, I’m considering following Quinn’s advice and taking matters into my own hands.
But we don’t get a chance to be alone before we’re ferried into the ballroom with the rest of the court. I’ve passed this room a few times during the day, but it was nowhere near as spectacular as it is at night. Thousands of candles flicker in a dozen golden chandeliers suspended over a floor tiled in an elaborate geometric pattern, the light catching on the embedded stones and glittering. It gives the room the effervescent appearance of a glass of sparkling wine, and the flashes from the courtiers’ jewelry only enhance the effect.
It's so beautiful I somehow forget to hate it, if only for a moment.
“It is lovely,” whispers Ronan, sensing my awe. His hand hovers over the small of my back, the heat and light of it sending tingles up my spine. “But nothing is as lovely as you.”
I turn to him. I want to ask him to leave this room, to take me back to his chambers and finally show me where his bed is, but the next moment, the court realizes I’m there, and I’m pulled away from him to meet everyone Quinn and Queen Claudia were just gossiping about. We’ve been here for weeks, but everyone treats me as if I just arrived yesterday.
I tell the story of how I saw the assassin in the shadows and shot the arrow a dozen times before someone finally rescues me.
It’s not Ronan.
It’s Titus, the man who defeated me in the trial of the blade. Like most of the court, he’s out of his armor tonight, wearing a silver tailcoat and black breeches, the house colors of House Faber. His long red hair has been slicked into a low knot at the back of his neck. It suits him. “Can I get you a drink? You’ve been talking for so long by now, you must be thirsty.”
“Wine,” I say. “And some of those little cheese puffs, if you wouldn’t mind. I’m starving.”
“Good choice. They’re delicious.”
He returns with a glass of red and an entire tray of pastries, including several of the cheese ones.
“My savior.” I give him a little bow of my head as I stuff my face with cheese. He was right—theyaredelicious.
“I’ll admit I had an ulterior motive in saving you. Well, two, actually.”
“Did you?” I ask, sipping my wine.
“I did. First, I’ll admit that I’ve been getting quite a bit of grief for being the one who defeated the hero of Selara, and I was hoping to show everyone there are no hard feelings. There are no hard feelings, are there?”
“Of course not,” I say. “You were more than fair.”
“It was a good fight. My second motive—”
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. It’s Ronan, lurking off to the side near an arched doorway. A Guardian from one of the lower houses is talking to him at length about something he appears to care nothing about. His eyes flutter to mine again, his expression troubled.
“—is also a selfish one. I hoped that by freeing you from the clutches of the court, I might be able to convince the most incredible woman in the room to dance with me.”
“Oh,” I say. “Where is she?” I smile coyly. I know exactly what he meant.
“She’s standing in front of me, covered in crumbs.”
I laugh as I wipe my mouth. It reminds me of Ronan dressed as Soren wiping them in the market after we met.
“Sure. I’d love to dance,” I say, more to get my mind off the memory than anything else.
I don’t think much of it. I haven’t been to a ball like this before, but I was instructed in the etiquette. It’s customary to dance with many partners in one night if you’re unmarried.
