His blue-eyed gaze locked on me.
No, no, no.
He began to approach?—
Someone else appeared at my side, close by. A voice I recognized said, near my ear, “May I have this dance?”
Warmth bloomed in my chest—the first comfort I’d felt all night.
He’ll ask you to dance,Liora had said in that courtyard, after we sat down on the bench.And you’ll accept.When I’d asked her why, she’d said,Because you will be irresistible, and he’s your blade. A facet of your power. Why would you not brandish your blade before the other queens when you have the chance?
I turned my face, lifted my eyes. Onyx velvet, a mask with a scar over the jaw and most of his face obscured. And yet I recognized the other half of those lips. I would know that voice anywhere. His scent was already in my nose, woodsmoke and earthiness andhim.
Dorian. His hand extended to me, palm up.
After a pause, I took it.
A slow dance had begun. A close one, meant for touching bodies and romance.
Dorian’s hand closed around mine through his glove—firm, unhesitant, like he’d decided where we were going and my agreement was incidental. He led me onto the floor.
When he turned toward me, I lifted my eyes to meet his. “I can’t dance,” I whispered.
“That’s because you had Mirek for a partner.” He stepped forward. “May I?”
He was asking if he could put his hand at my waist. Mirek had never asked. I nodded once, and his hand settled against the curve just above my hip.
We had never stood like this: chest to chest, his hand on my back, gazes locked. If I focused just on his eyes, on his pulled-back hair, we could almost be back at Virellan Falls. When longing hadn’t just been the spiritstag’s magic, when his lips on mine had felt like the truest thing in my life.
Don’t trust him, Eury.
I’d accepted this dance to show off my blade. I hoped all three fucking queens were watching.
The violins played slow and soft, and Dorian said, “I’ll lead. Just relax and follow.”
He stepped forward, and I stepped back. And where I’d expected Mirek’s harsh suddenness, Dorian was smooth. He guided me backward almost before I had the instinct to follow his step, his fingers pressing lightly into my back, and soon we were moving around the room with the other couples and I wasn’t even stepping on his toes.
We danced for some time without speaking, and I found it easy. The music flowed, our feet moved in rhythm, the world became a blur and he stayed my only constant. His hand on mine, fingertips touching my spine, my chest brushing his.
Of course it would be this way. Of course.
This was what I had feared, had avoided with almost ferocious care. That while my mind told me I shouldn’t and couldn’t trust, my body would feel that rightness. And what the hell was I supposed to do with that?
“Eury,” he said as we passed around the room, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
Despite the past few minutes, my heart was still tight and hard as a nut. “As Dorian, or as myveyre?”
“As Dorian.”
“Then I’m not interested.”
“Give me one minute.”
“No.”
He didn’t break step; his fingers and movements were as light, as elegant as before. “Thirty seconds.”
“Ten.”