“I’m all right,” I say, sidestepping away. I know we have to stay at this party long enough for Caspian to be seen, but it doesn’t mean I have to dance with this stranger.
But she stalks me through the party, like a hunter after prey. Then she snags my arm. “Caught you,” she laughs. Her lips, painted a deep crimson, curl into a playful smile.
“Sorry, Caterina,” a smooth voice says. “His next dance is with me.”
I’m enveloped in the scent of lavender as someone steps between us.
“Oh, Prince Caspian, of course,” the woman in the wolf mask says before slinking back into the crowd.
“Try to act like you’re enjoying this,” Caspian says dryly, pulling me into a dance. “You are the one I’m going to disappear with later.”
My words are all caught in my throat, and I can barely keep up with the footwork of the dance. How is he so good at this?
Caspian exudes majesty, wearing the finest midnight velvet. The fitted doublet hugs tight to his slim waist, its silver stitching reminiscent of the stars. A belt of woven gemstones adorns his waist, catching the light and casting prisms of color that dance across his figure. His cloak is a twilight-hued masterpiece of silk. As he moves, it billows behind him like moving shadows. Embroidered along the hem are stars and crescent moons, their celestial beauty mirroring his own.
As I watch him, I can’t help but be swept away by the sheer enchantment of it all. He’s like a character from a fairytale come to life, a prince of darkness with a charm and allure that are impossible to resist.
“I see you decided on a new cloak,” I finally say.
He laughs. “Had to have something special for tonight.”
Together, we move as one, our bodies swaying to the hypnotic rhythm of the music. The other partygoers track us with their eyes. Even with his mask, Caspian is impossible to ignore. Everyone here wants a piece of their prince.
“Well, I like it,” I say.
I catch a flash of his lavender gaze from beneath the black fox mask. He pulls me closer so we’re chest to chest, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek.
A sudden chill sweeps over the courtyard. The music stops abruptly. Caspian must notice this a moment before me becausethin briars wrap around my feet and shoot me across the dance floor, bumping me into people before I crash against a table laden with food and drink.
Gasping, I push myself up and stand just in time to see Sira enter the party. The crowd parts before her like grass bending to the wind. She wears a black dress with a silken spiderweb cloak.
Caspian regards her with a look of disinterest, leaning on some random half-dressed fae man. “Welcome, Mother.”
“What is this?” Her voice is knife-sharp.
He gives a mocking smile, the kind of smile one might give if drunk. “Why, I do believe it’s what some call a party.”
“A party,” Sira gleams and looks to the crowd. “Your prince makes merry while our enemies plot above?”
Caspian gives a mocking laugh. “Mother, life can be so boring if it’s all work, work, work.”
Why is he baiting her like this? It’s like he wants to infuriate her. I push through the crowd to get closer.
“Andyou.” Sira turns to the man Caspian leans against. “How are you enjoying this party, knowing it keeps your prince from thwarting those who would keep us down here in the dark forever?”
“Uh,” the fae man stammers.
“As I thought,” Sira says.
Shadows fall off her like water rolling off a rock. They gather on the ground before lashing up and devouring the man. Ash flutters away in a slight breeze.
Terror ripples through the crowd, but they don’t scream. They don’t even move. It’s the kind of terror that freezes you to your core.
“There shall be no merrymaking, no parties, and no gallivanting until the Golden Rose is in our possession,” Sira says. The sound of clanging metal rings behind her as black armored fae and goblins march to her side. “Return to your dwellings or reap the consequences.”
Breath heavy in my throat, I back away into the crowd.
“And you,” Sira says to her son, “follow me.”
