“I like it just as much as any man.” He blotted his mouth with an inky napkin.
It had been so long since I danced, or attended a feast. Aelira and Lioran hadn’t hosted a single ball since the war.
Novena leaned in towards her husband as he traced the bracelet around her wrist. She nodded as the music began, gracefully rising beside Kilan. Her deep locks glowed purple in the candlelight.
Soren wasn’t going to ask me to dance—he wasn’t going to ask me anything.
“Could we dance now?” I couldn’t bear sitting for another idle moment.
“You truly are as your brother says.” A strained smile twitched on Soren’s lips.
I had rarely ever heard Agan say anything nice about me. “Does that displease you?”
“As long as we’re aligned, you’ll find very few things displease me,” he said. “If you wish to dance, we shall dance.”
I studied the steps of the women on the dance floor. They slowed with the cadence of a tune I had never heard before. “I don’t truly know this dance.”
“We can sit this one out.” He seemed most unamused.
“I’m sure I’ll learn it.” I rose before he did.
“Think of it as a challenge. I wonder, Princess Ashlyn, how quickly can you learn the ways of my court?” He grabbed my hand and led me out onto the dance floor.
Hopefully, it would be faster than trying to learn the ways of the fae.
Fyn stepped to the edge of the dance floor. His dimly glowing eyes found mine before I turned from him.
“You’ll have to stand closer.” Soren slid my hand in place on his shoulder.
Every passing dancer watched us as we turned. My gown swept the floor as it spread.
Soren’s midnight eyes found mine when I faced him again. “What do you enjoy, Princess Ashlyn? How do you fill your time?”
“I like to read.” It was the safest thing I could relay.
“We have a rather grand library here. You are welcome to access it.” He pulled me closer. “Anything else?”
I needed to know if his energy could match mine—if he was different than the men in Bailoc. “I enjoy training with my sword.”
“I must have misheard you.” His hand slipped down my back as the movements in the dance grew smaller. “You didn’t say you have a sword, did you?”
“You didn’t mishear me. I do, in fact, own a sword. I brought it here with me.” I sucked in a hard breath.
“What need would a princess have for that?” His smile faded.
I tried to force myself to breathe so I wouldn’t say something I shouldn’t. I knew it was unusual for a human princess. “It quiets the mind.”
“You’ll have little use for it here.” He twirled me as the music slowed.
“I assume you know how to use a sword?” Maybe Agan was right—my choice of words would always be my downfall.
“What kind of prince would I be if I didn’t?”
I was never one to let something go. “Perhaps we could spar sometime.”
“I will not hold a blade against my future bride. Nor would I want another man to. You will find there are no women here who practice.”
Pressure built in my chest as I fought my frustration. I wanted someone who would challenge me at every turn, but not like this.
