Westley gritted his teeth as an Asgardian Fae he didn’t know placed his hands on Solveig.
Solveig’s face transformed into a breathtaking smile. Their heights nearly matched. The Fae pulled her close, and that part of Westley that recognized North’s words about the fates wanted to rip the male’s throat out.
And the next male and the next.
He tried not to watch, but his eyes always found their way back to her. She never met his gaze though he felt her awareness through their connection. Each time he attempted to speak with her, the walls of her mind remained solid.
She was deliberately keeping him out.
“Ten gold marks says he pounces on the next partner,” Easta whispered to North. Westley ignored them. They’d been making bets beside him for the last ten minutes.
North won five gold marks when he wasn’t able to stop himself from looking at Solveig for a whole song. Easta won those marks back betting that he would growl during a dance with a Vanir male. He’d tried not to, he really had.
But when the Vanir’s hand drifted down to graze the top of Solveig’s ass, he couldn’t stop the low rumble from escaping. It was the only time Solveig had glanced in his direction, for a second far too brief for his liking.
“Here comes another one. I’ll take that bet,” said North.
Westley turned to look at Solveig and his shoulders relaxed, sore from being hunched to his ears. Conalle had arrived and was pardoning himself as he snuck to the top of the line that had formed to dance with Solveig.
Conalle caught his eye over the crowd and winked. Westley turned back to his sisters, a smile on his lips.
Easta visibly deflated—they all knew Conalle wouldn’t try anything. She handed ten gold marks over to North.
“She’s under your skin, West,” North accused, slipping the gold into her clutch.
He didn’t bother denying it. “I know,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair.
The lively song brought Solveig and Conalle around to Westley’s side of the dance floor. When it finished, both Solveig and Conalle were grinning ear to ear, slightly out of breath.
Solveig stayed on Conalle’s arm as he led them towards Westley and his sisters.
Before any of them could speak, the doors blasted open, a cool draft flying through the ballroom as the music screeched to a halt. Everyone turned their gazes up to the entrance.
A shadowed figure stood in the doorway as the announcer scrambled up to greet the newcomers. Westley held his breath, expecting his grandfather to finally join them, but when the announcer called out the names, he let out a breath of relief.
Maybe they would get lucky and he wouldn’t come.
The trumpet blew faintly before the announcer called out, in a shaky voice, “Introducing President Hugo Langley of Midgard, his wife Nina Langley, and their daughter, Dayana Langley.”
TheMidgardfamilymadetheir way down the steps, the picture of nonchalance.
They didn’t seem nervous or intimidated as they entered what they would probably consider the lion’s den. Given their history of enslavement and abuse by many of the races in attendance—some of which would gladly take up the old ways if they had their magic back—the mortal family held their heads high.
Solveig was glad mortal residents of Asgard were in attendance. Hopefully it would make the leaders of Midgard feel more welcome.
President Hugo led his family over to the queens on their dais. Aelfsi signalled to Solveig with a look. She slipped out of Conalle’s hold, striding over to her mothers’ side. A show of strength for the queens as the Midgard representatives bowed to them. Koa and Aelfsi inclined their heads in greeting.
“President Hugo, it is good of you to join us,” Aelfsi began.
“Thank you for accepting our invitation,” Koa finished.
“It is our pleasure.” The president bowed again. “We appreciate thegesture of goodwill.”
“Asgard has always strived for harmony between the Fae and Midgard, though it has not always been reciprocated,” Koa said, a gleam in her eye that would’ve made a lesser man than the president back down.
The president’s wife, Nina, laid her hand on her husband’s arm, censuring him. “Of course, Your Majesties, and we appreciate the lengths you have gone to to make us welcome,” Nina said graciously.
Solveig watched carefully as they offered pleasantries to her queens, looking for any signs of trickery. Her eyes fell to their daughter, who couldn’t have yet reached twenty years.
