I’m starting to realize I don’t either.
When I don’t move, Kaidren arches an eyebrow, never lowering his hand, nor his intense gaze.
My hands might be covered, but gloves will do nothing to guard me from his lips, which are too tempting for their own good, and just as conniving as the rest of him.
I break eye contact. “I don’t dance.”
Kaidren’s forehead furrows, and he lowers his hand. “We don’t have to talk about the Tournament.”
“I can’t think of anything else we have to talk about.”
“Remira—”
Flynn Sixmen approaches before he can finish the thought. “Mira, you’re looking especially lovely tonight. Dance with me?”
“Don’t waste your time, Sixmen,” says Kaidren. “Mira doesn’t dance.”
Flynn’s just given me the escape I need. From Kaidren and the way he holds my stare, calls me “exquisite,” and, worst of all, means it.
I shoot Kaidren a saccharine smile over Flynn’s shoulder. “With you.”
Confusion clouds his expression. “What?”
“I left off the end of that sentence. I don’t dance . . . with you.” I turn my undivided attention to Flynn and take his arm. “I’d love to dance withyou, Honorate Sixmen.”
Flynn looks surprised but pleased as he guides me onto the dance floor. He places his hands in the correct position and smiles. “You seem nervous.”
Do I? I was hoping I was hiding it. “I don’t dance very often.”
He chuckles. “That’s not true. Your mother is always hosting parties.”
“She’s not my mother,” I say frostily.
“Of course. Sorry.” We fall into tense silence for a few beats. “So . . .” Flynn drags out the word with a sly grin. “What’s going on between you and Vale?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ah. I see we’re pretending neither of us noticed the way he was looking at you. Sorry. It would help if you told me in advance that we’re playing make-believe.”
“There’s nothing going on, and he wasn’t looking at me any sort of way.”
“Sure, Mira. Whatever you say.”
I purse my lips, hoping it’ll mask my embarrassment. From the corner of my eye, I see another girl approach Kaidren.There are nerves rolling off her, leaving little doubt she intends to ask him to dance.
Kaidren looks visibly uncomfortable. So much so, I expect he’s going to refuse. But with a swift glance in my direction (I turn my head as if I’m not looking), a smile stretches across his face and he holds out an arm for the girl.
I wonder if anyone else can see how distinctly fake it is.
I try to ignore them as they dance and focus my attention on Flynn. He’s always been easy to talk to and kind to me. He’s the only member of the Honorate who’s ever treated me with any sort of respect.
Except Kaidren . . .
I shoo that annoying voice away.
My eyes won’t stop wandering over Flynn’s shoulder to watch Kaidren. It doesn’t help that each time I look, I find his probing stare already fixed on me.
I decide it’s safer to look at my shoes.
