“Would you be angry if I said it wasn’t really the gown I was interested in?”
A delighted laugh escapes my lips. “No, Your Majesty.”
We move across the room in a gentle rhythm, the music soft and steady. I try smiling at a couple of the nearby ladies, but their eyes flit away.
“Tell me about this ball of yours,” the king says. “What was it for?”
“It’s Vasnan tradition to hold a ball when a woman is ready to present herself as eligible for marriage. We call them balls, but that’s really due to the continent’s influence. They’re rather informal and held on the beach.”
“All Vasnan women do this when they come of age?”
“Most of them do.”
“And when is marrying age, Princess?”
“Twenty is tradition, though some girls prefer earlier.”
“But not you?”
I glance off past his shoulder. “No. I waited.”
“Was there someone you were waiting for?”
Do I imagine his voice darkening? I peek up at him, but his own eyes are tracking something over my head.
“No, Your Majesty. I simply didn’t wish to leave home.”
“It must be difficult for you then, coming here.”
“I’m hopeful Tirenth will become just as dear to me, Your Majesty.”
“Soren,” he says.
“Pardon?”
My breath catches as his gaze falls on mine, seizing it in a decisive grip.
“Soren,” he repeats. “‘Your Majesty’ is for others. Not for you.”
I wet my lips. “I was told not to call you…”
“And I’m telling you differently.”
He spins me in a slow circle before sweeping me back into his arms. “What will you miss most?”
“Miss?” I’m so flustered I can’t even remember what we were talking about.
He wants me to call him by hisgiven name. Even if he wasn’t a dragon, a human king would hardly offer that.
“About Vasna,” he says.
“Oh.” This I can answer. “My little sister.”
“The one who threatened me?”
I bite back a laugh. “Yes, the one who threatened you.”
“After the ceremony, she’s welcome to visit you any time you like.”
