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His smile was soft as he laced our fingers together and kissed the back of my hand. “I won’t mind, and no one here would be gauche enough to mention it.”

Then he was crossing the garden and guiding me onto the open space near where Arden and Monique danced. His arms were warm as he wrapped them around me, leading me into the steps without causing me to stumble at all. It was just the two of us slowly moving around Arden and Monique for most of the song. Then, over the course of a few minutes, several more couples joined. Two men danced together, both in the regalia of the guardsmen, their noses close enough to brush slightly with each of their steps, small smiles on their lips.

“What you did for that girl was very kind,” Callum said after a minute.

“She’s an orphan,” I said in explanation. “I… I understand how she feels better than most. If I can make her feel less alone, it’s worth it.”

“You certainly did. Julian says he hasn’t seen her truly smile since the news came of her parents’ deaths. She hasn’t been willing to fly since then, either. You and Amaria have both drawn her out of her shell.”

“You spoke with him?”

He nodded and then tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, letting his fingers linger a bit on my throat as he pulled away.

“Is there… Can we do anything else to make it easier for her? I mean, for them? The move and adjustment, I mean.”

“I’m working with the training center here to have his position adjusted to that of an instructor so he won’t be sent away from the city. It will also come with a raise, enough to secure lodging large enough for them both without needing to utilize the barracks for longer than a few weeks.”

“Soldiers don’t make enough to afford homes?” The question was a bit more harsh than I meant for it to come across. He squeezed my hand.

“They do. But the move was expensive, as is the care of another person for someone who was not expecting to take on the responsibility.”

Some of that worry rooted in my own experience eased. “Good. That’s… that’s good.”

The song changed, and he adjusted his steps to another kind of dance. I stumbled a bit, catching the hem of the dress. I couldn’t help but grimace, glancing at the fabric to make sure there weren’t any rips.

“What’s wrong?” He was quick to steady me, the arm around my waist hot as a brand.

“Just terrified to ruin this dress,” I admitted. “It’s… it’s much more expensive than anything I’ve ever owned. All of this is. It’s a lot to adjust to.”

He nodded, a wealth of understanding in his eyes. “It was for me, too, when I transitioned from living in the Perysinthian temple in Embercrest to being part of the royal court.”

I frowned. “You weren’t born in the court?”

He navigated us around another of the couples, guiding me into a spin that had me smiling despite myself. “My mother was a member of the temple. I lived with her until I was fifteen. It was then that the king died and my father gained the crown. The tattoo signifying I was a son of the king appeared on my sternum the next morning, when he took the oath to lead Marish. I was brought into the court that night.”

“You hadn’t known?”

He shook his head. “Neither had my mother, though she did admit to me later that she suspected it might be a possibility. He made her his bride a few weeks later, bringing her into the court as well.”

He spun me again and then brought me closer into his arms, more of my body against his. My breath caught, and that desire to touch him, close the bit of distance feel the taste and feel of his lips, ripped through me.

Praise that dang pendant. Not a single bit of my scent gave away the desire.

“The life within the temple is very humble. We do not want for food or clothing, but there is not so much to have all of this.” He twisted us both, highlighting the party around us. “Nor is it often desired. The difference was an adjustment for me, too. Even now, it sometimes feels uncomfortable.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Thirty years.”

The math fell into place without me really wanting to notice it. “You’re forty-five?” The question was a bit too squeaky.

He raised a single eyebrow as he gave a soft, “Yes.”

“Wow. A silver fox,” I muttered.

Well, a blond one, I supposed. But still. Never pictured myself with someone nearly double my age.

“A… what?”