Ian kept his arms crossed, avoiding eye contact with the steward and everyone else in the room.
Steward Daniel cleared his throat and turned his attention back to Erich. “We were just discussing whether the evening should start with supper or dancing.”
“Dancing of course,” Erich quickly offered.
“But that will extend the length of the night,” Ian replied, his eyes still plastered to the far wall.
“Exactly,” Erich responded. “A few hours of dancing before supper will put everyone in a good mood, and make sure they are hungry for all the delicious food.”
“An excellent observation,” Miss Roth nodded to Erich as she watched Ian carefully.
“This ismyball,” Ian said, glaring at Erich. “And perhaps I prefer it to be as short as possible.”
Erich shared a quick glance with Meena. This was exactly what they had hoped to avoid. ItwasIan’s ball, but it had been forced upon him.
“I am sorry, Ian,” Erich said, empathizing with the difficult position his brother was in. “But this ball is supposed to be a night of celebration, bringing the people of Iseldis together during this difficult time. Opening the ball with a dance and saving the meal for later in the evening would make the whole event more festive and unitive.” If everything in his life was festive and unitive, Erich would be a very happy man.
At his side, Meena nodded supportively.
Ian sighed deeply, as though his patience was being tried more than he could bear. Perhaps it was. “Thank you for stating facts I am well aware of.”
Erich winced at the anything but thankful tone, but kept a smile on his face. “I know you don’t want to do this,” he continued. “I would be happy to take care of the boring details for you.”
Erich loved parties. He loved dancing, he loved music, and he loved the energy of a sparkling ballroom filled with excited people. Ian, however, preferred to lead councilors and advisors in long, complicated meetings—he was going to make a great king someday.
But their small kingdom was on the brink of war, as a race of magic-wielders was to return to the continent in a year’s time to enact revenge for their thousand-season exile.
In order to unite the kingdom and prepare for the looming invasion, Crown Prince Ian was asked to host a ball and choose a wife. In the possible event of King Frederich and Queen Cara not surviving the attack, Ian’s marriage would be essential to the stability of the kingdom.
As Meena had just reminded Erich, Ian’s heart had been broken many seasons ago. Yet, the crown prince had agreed to this ball and future marriage out of his overzealous responsibility to his people and kingdom.
Erich truly felt sorry for his older brother, and he wanted to help him. If his help also ensured that the night of dancing would be as incredible as possible, that was just an extra thing to be thankful for.
“This is my ball.” Ian’s voice was diplomatic but firm. “And I get to decide how it takes place.”
“Brother, just because it is your ball does not mean it is your responsibility to plan every aspect of it.” Erich pleaded. “All you really have to do is show up and—”
Meena jabbed Erich in the side. She could practically read his mind, which was quite fortunate. His next words would have been, “And choose your future queen,” and that would have made Ian more upset.
Personally, Erich did not think it quite so horrible a proposition. He would gladly marry any woman who loved dancing. What better place to find a girl who loved dancing than at a dance?
“I don’t intend to plan everything,” Ian responded. “But I do plan on ensuring that you two pests aren’t given any chance to ruin it.”
Erich inhaled, wishing he could respond in kind to his older brother’s harsh words. But Ian was hurting and Erich knew his words weren’t intentional. That didn’t mean he wasn’t bothered by them, however.
“Ian, this is clearly making you miserable.” Meena joined in the pleading. “Let us help you!”
“We know you are still missing Robin—” Erich started his plea with as much passion and empathy as he could muster, but Ian raised his voice before Meena could even jab his side again.
“This is my responsibility, and responsibility is not something I trust you with, Erich.” Ian’s usually calm voice had taken on a desperate edge.
Then Meena poked Erich in the side. Hard. He had mentioned the one name he was never ever supposed to speak again.
“Well, then.” Erich swallowed, his side—and his pride—both smarting. As much as he wanted to help Ian, he’d had enough rejection for one day. “I will leave you to it.”
Chapter 2
“Goodnight, Celesta.” Aizel hugged her sister, tucking the threadbare blanket closer around the younger girl more and kissed her on the forehead.
