“How so?” I asked flatly.
“Dare I say you areawfullytoo appealing to be a princess.” His perusal continued down my torso, lingering unabashedly before catching on my hair again. “Such a shame you’re Chosen now.”
“Andwhymight that be?”
“Though you aren’t technically a queen yet. I wonder if the Treaty applies to…” He removed his hand from mine. I stiffened when he toyed with a curl dangling around my face.
“Baron Ionis,” I warned, my hand clamping over his.
His lips curled into a grin that had my insides churning. “Yes, Princess?”
“This is not part of the customary dance.”
“No? Hm. How about this?” His other hand dropped to my hip.
“Remove yourself,” I ground out, squirming beneath his grip. I didn’t want to make a scene, but I couldn’t bear another second of his bold sordidness.
He’d angled us so that none could see his exploring hand. “You wouldn’t know, with your uneducated background, that this is the kind of dancing they teach?—”
He yelped just as his fingers teased the slit in my gown.
“Do as your princess commands,” a voice growled, “and keep yourfuckinghands to yourself.”
Raithe.
His velvet-cloaked back affronted my view as he situated himself between Baron Ionis and me. Peeking around his broad shoulders, I found him twisting the baron’s wrists at a sharp angle. The music continued, but most of the couples had halted their dancing to watch the unfolding scene.
Felaf appeared, concern etched into her features as Raithe maintained his unyielding hold.
“I’m fine,” I told them despite my jittery hands.
“I think he gets the message, Raithe,” Felaf said. “Let him go before Maryn makes her way over here.”
“Do you?” Raithe demanded. “Get the message?”
“Yes,” Baron Ionis ground out.
“Good.” Raithe released him with a petty shove.
The baron held his arms to his chest as enmity oozed from his gaze. But whatever he saw in Raithe’s eyes had him backing down from a snarky retort. Wisely, he retreated from the ballroom with his guards in tow.
Raithe turned to face me. The concern in his eyes was too much—tooconfusing—to bear. I brushed past him. My bottled emotions were ready to give way, and Baron Ionis had been the tipping point. I was about to implode, but I wasn’t foolish enough to do so in the middle of a ball being held in my honor.
I chucked off the stifling jewelry onto my bed. The pins in my hair refused to come undone from my locks. I groaned in frustration and stared at myself in the full-length mirror. The nearly full moon’s light poured in from the terrace, partially illuminating my figure. My hair was a mess, my skin damp with cold sweat, and my face?—
Someone moved in the shadows behind me.
My body pulsed with awareness as Raithe emerged.
“I don’t want you here,” I lied to his reflection.
His eyes seemed to glow in response. The planes of his face were sharp enough to cut something inside me. “I can tell the difference between what you want and what you don’t want,” he said, voice low. Tempered. “Regardless of whatever misguided reasons made that bastard think it was okay to touch you, you didn’t want it.”
Each step of his had my pulse fluttering.
“But from your shallow breaths, unsteady heartbeat, and parted lips… I think you want me here.”
He was bolder tonight, and that was dangerous if I wanted to keep him at arm’s length the way he’d done to me.
