Page 12 of A Dagger in the Ivy (Blade Bound #1)

C Hapter

Nadya’s brow wrinkles as I approach with Sir Holden close behind me.

“What did you forget?” she asks.

I lean close to her ear so the guards do not hear. I take her elbow and urge her to walk with me. “I needed my dagger.”

She keeps pace with me, looking me over as if searching. “Where is it?”

“On my thigh.”

“How did you—?”

“I cut the tulle beneath the gown so I can get to it quickly.”

Her eyes widen in horror.

“Don’t tell Indira.”

She bites her bottom lip, holding back a laugh. “You devil.”

I don’t mention my encounter with Dante. To be honest, I’d like to forget it completely. I’m really hoping he’s not attending the ball because I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else if he’s there. And I don’t want to cause a scene in front of the king and queen.

The guards open the large, intricately carved, wooden doors to the ballroom and step aside to allow Nadya and me to enter. To my relief, they remain just inside the doors of the ballroom and do not follow us farther. The weight is lifted from my shoulders knowing Sir Holden will not be following me around at the ball. That’s one less thing I need to worry about.

As I take in my surroundings, I am immediately struck by its opulence—a dazzling display of wealth and extravagance that stands in stark contrast to the simplicity of my upbringing. The room is bathed in the warm glow of countless candles, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows across the polished marble floors.

Elaborate tapestries adorn the walls, depicting scenes of heroic battles and noble deeds—a testament to the storied history of this grand castle. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling like glittering jewels, their crystal prisms catching the light and scattering it in a dazzling array of colors.

Despite the fact that my family was royalty, I experienced a more subdued lifestyle than the royals of Hedera. The contrast is shocking proof of how destitute Delasurvia is and has been. I suppose I never noticed it, because it was what I was used to.

The air in the ballroom is alive with the sound of laughter and music, the lively strains of the orchestra filling the room with a sense of merriment and joy. Couples twirl gracefully across the dance floor, their elegant movements a testament to their skill and refinement. I wonder at their grace, convinced I could never replicate it. The queen said this is a ball, and that means dancing. The thought of me trying to manage swirling about in this gown fills me with a sense of dread. A crackling fire is aflame in a fireplace so big, one could fit four large barrels in it.

Tables laden with delicacies line the perimeter of the room, their offerings a feast for the senses—succulent meats, decadent desserts, and fine wines from distant lands. The scent of exotic spices hangs in the air, tantalizing my senses and making my mouth water with anticipation.

As I take in the splendor of the ballroom, I can’t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder wash over me. Despite my years raised as a princess before training as a soldier, I am unaccustomed to such luxury and refinement. I’m used to Mylo slaughtering a wild boar and roasting it for us, Aila gathering berries, and Isaac complaining while he and Giorgi set up tents in a cold forest for us to sleep in. And yet as I stand amidst the glittering throng of nobles and dignitaries, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride in my heritage—a reminder that, no matter where life may take me, I will always be a daughter of Delasurvia.

I spot my uncle, and he waves me over to a long table set up near the floor-to-ceiling windows. I nod, but before I can move, a sudden sense of someone looming nearby washes over me, and I feel eyes on me. My senses tingle, and I catch Prince Torbin out of the corner of my eye, his presence as commanding as ever, materializing behind me with the grace of a predator stalking its prey.

A shiver runs down my spine as he leans in close, his warm breath tickling my ear. “You’ve brought a touch of enchantment to this ballroom, Celeste,” he whispers, his smooth, velvety voice a soft caress against my skin. “I swear, the candles burn a little brighter in your presence, and the stars themselves envy the sparkle in your eyes.” I can feel the heat of his body radiating against my back, sending a flush of warmth rushing to my cheeks.

I turn to face him, my heart pounding in my chest as I take in his appearance. He is dressed in finery befitting a prince, his attire impeccable and tailored to perfection. A fine silk shirt hugs his muscular frame, the fabric shimmering in the soft candlelight. His trousers are crisp and tailored, accentuating the powerful lines of his legs. And atop his head sits a crown of golden waves, his unruly hair tamed into submission for the evening.

Despite the man’s regal appearance, there is still a ruggedness to him—a hint of the hunter he is at heart. His hands are calloused and strong, evidence of years spent honing his skills with bow and sword. And of course, I can’t forget the dick-measuring contest disguised as target practice with his brother. And yet there is a certain elegance to his movements, a grace that belies his warrior’s spirit.

As he gazes at me with hypnotic, blue eyes, my body is flooded with warmth. There is an intensity to his gaze, a hunger that sends a thrill of excitement coursing through my veins.

“It’s a shame we have to join our families at the table.” His voice is low and husky with admiration. “If I had my way, I’d keep you all to myself.”

Heat spreads through my cheeks. Despite my best efforts to maintain my composure, I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from his, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. “Don’t you usually get your way?”

“In most cases, yes.” His smile widens, and his gaze momentarily drops to my mouth. “But I believe tonight is about appeasing the masses, and more importantly, my parents.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to disappoint them.” I can’t help but grin, but I have to avert my eyes when his stare becomes too intense. Beside me, Nadya is barely holding herself together. I just know she’s going to tell me later how much this moment made her swoon.

“Lady Nadya.” Torbin dips his head to her. “You look lovely.”

She bends into a curtsey. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Torbin offers his arm to me, and I hook mine through it as he leads me to the head table. I can’t be sure that I’ll be happy being wed to this charming prince, but so far, I’m optimistic about the situation. I mean, as long as King Silas adheres to his side of the bargain.

The chandelier overhead casts a warm, golden glow, illuminating the long table where the king, queen, and my uncle are already seated. The table is adorned with a lavish feast and glitters with silverware and fine crystal goblets. I don’t even recognize half of the food displayed on the elegant platters.

The queen stands, smoothing out the skirt of her stunning, deep-purple gown. It is intricately embroidered with silver thread, creating delicate patterns of ivy leaves that climb up from the hem to her waist, symbolizing the Land of Ivy. Her blonde hair is swept up into an elaborate chignon, interwoven with strands of silver and tiny purple flowers. On top of the high collar of her gown, she wears a gold necklace that appears heavy enough to prop open a door. Her white, satin gloves reach past her elbows. “Torbin, Celeste, please, join us here.” Smiling, she indicates the two empty seats to her left.

Thankfully, there is a chair beside my uncle for Nadya.

I curtsey for the king and queen before rounding the table.

The stares from the nobles and courtiers seem to weigh me down as I make my way to my seat. As I settle into the chair, I feel Torbin’s eyes on me. I turn to find a smug smile playing on his lips.

He leans close to my ear. “Remember when we were children and I would sneak pastries from the kitchen for us to devour?”

My mouth twitches into a grin, grateful for his attempt to mollify me.

The king suddenly stands, his imposing figure towering over the table. Silence falls over the hall, every gaze now fixed on him. I find myself holding my breath, unsure of what’s about to happen.

King Silas lifts his chin. “Honored guests, tonight, we gather to celebrate not only the union of our lands, but the future of our kingdoms. Please join the queen and me as we announce the betrothal of our son, Prince Torbin, to Princess Celeste of Delasurvia. Let us welcome her to Hedera with open hearts.”

A murmur of approval ripples through the crowd, though there’s obvious curiosity and judgment in their eyes. I keep my expression composed, my hands clasped tightly in my lap to hide their trembling. Torbin reaches over and slips his fingers through mine, placing our joined hands on the table. I figure he wants the court to consider us already bonded.

“Many of you may not know,” King Silas continues, his tone softening slightly, “but I had the honor of calling Celeste’s father, King Axel, a dear friend in our younger days. Though a rift grew between us over the years, not a day goes by that I do not miss my friend. Sadly, King Axel passed before we had the chance to mend our friendship.”

A hush falls over the room as he speaks, and I feel a pang of sadness at the mention of my father. The king’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a glimmer of genuine sorrow and regret.

King Silas straightens, offering the court a small smile. “With this union, we take Delasurvia under our wing. As we look to the future, let us honor the memory of King Axel and strive to build a bond between our kingdoms that he would be proud of.” He lifts his wineglass. “Welcome, Princess Celeste.”

As the weight of the king’s words settles over me, applause fills the hall. I glance around the room, noting the opulent surroundings, the grandeur of the court, and the masked interest of the nobles. This ball is as much a display of power as it is a celebration, and I am keenly aware of my role in this intricate game.

As the applause dies down, the sound of conversation and the din of silverware fill the space. I place a hand on my stomach, hoping the churning will end. I haven’t eaten in hours, but I also don’t want to force food into myself just to have it come up again.

Servants come and refill our wineglasses throughout the meal, and the queen empties hers almost twice as fast as everyone else at the table. But I don’t judge. Aila, despite her petite frame, can handle twice the amount of ale that Isaac can, so maybe Queen Eleanor is made from the same cloth.

I manage to eat half my plate without incident, but I don’t press my luck. When I glance at Nadya, I have to laugh. Not only has she finished her overflowing plate, she’s already indulging in three types of dessert. She catches me watching her and gives me a wink as she takes a bite of cake.

After the last remnants of the sumptuous meal are cleared away, the lively chatter of the nobles and courtiers fills the air, punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the soft strains of music resounding throughout the ballroom. Despite the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth, a chill settles over me as I catch sight of the dance floor.

As if reading my mind, Queen Eleanor taps her wineglass with her knife. “Please, let us fill the hall with dancing.” There is a slight slur to her speech, but her eyes twinkle with excitement. She turns to me with the widest smile I’ve seen on her yet. “It’s been far too long since we’ve had a proper ball, and I would dearly love to see you grace the floor, Celeste.”

I swallow hard, my fingers instinctively reaching for the comforting weight of the dagger strapped to my thigh. Dancing has never been my forte, and the thought of making a spectacle of myself in front of the entire court makes my stomach churn all over again.

Torbin holds eye contact with me, his brows raised as he waits for me to respond.

I return the queen’s smile out of politeness, but then I send a pleading look to my uncle. I’m not sure he would allow me to retreat to the shadows, but I’m hoping for a miracle.

General Kormak Moorgrin is not one to be swayed by my reluctance. He takes my hand, his grip tightening. He smiles for appearances, but his telepathic voice fills my head. “You must, Celeste. We don’t want to cause a scene, especially when the king has welcomed you in front of his entire court with open arms.” Before I can protest, he says out loud, “Come, Niece. Dance with me. The people need to see their future queen enjoying herself.”

I cast a nervous glance around the room, my heart pounding in my chest as I feel the weight of their expectations pressing down upon me. Torbin grins, resting his elbows on the table and settling his chin upon his hands. With a resigned sigh, I allow my uncle to lead me toward the dance floor, my mind racing with a thousand doubts and insecurities.

As we step onto the polished marble, the strains of a waltz fill the air, the melody floating around us like a gentle breeze. I try to focus on the rhythm, allowing my uncle to guide me through the steps with practiced ease. But despite his reassuring presence, I can’t shake the feeling of being out of place, a soldier thrust into a world of grace and elegance. I long for the familiar comfort of my armor and sword. I steal a glance at the smiling faces around me, realizing that for tonight, at least, I must set aside my fears and embrace the role that has been thrust upon me. For the sake of my reputation as their future queen, I must learn to dance.

Suddenly, my uncle’s steps falter, bringing us to a stop. I follow his gaze and see Prince Torbin standing nearby, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.

My uncle releases my hand and dips his head. “I believe it is time for me to go. I will retrieve my things and have the carriage prepared. ”

“So soon?”

“The sun has already set. I’m long past due to journey home. We will speak soon.” He means he will speak to me soon, and for a moment, I panic that he will forget me altogether. He must run Delasurvia as regent until my coronation—which will only take place after our deal with Hedera can be properly set in stone. Uncle Kormak places a kiss upon my cheek, and I have to hold my breath to keep from protesting his departure. As he gestures to allow Torbin to cut in, he communicates with me telepathically. “Remember your duty, Celeste. Delasurvia is counting on you.”

With a nod, I turn to the prince. As I take his outstretched hand, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake in agreeing to come to this mysterious kingdom.

I cast a quick glance at Nadya, who is submerged in conversation with two gentlemen. She looks as though she’s enjoying herself, so I refrain from trying to attract her attention.

Prince Torbin, still holding my hand, bows to start the dance. I swallow back my fears and let him place his other hand on my waist. He grins as he leads me into the dance, and I can’t help but notice the effortless grace with which he moves. He towers over me, and I find myself marveling at the strength evident in the way he holds me, yet there’s a gentle touch to his grasp that belies his formidable appearance.

After studying my face for a moment, he leans closer to my ear. “You’re not fond of these balls, either, are you?”

A soft chuckle escapes my lips before I can stop it. “No, not particularly,” I admit, relieved to find that we share this one thing in common. “I haven’t much experience dancing.”

“Yet you know which way to step during battles. Which moves to make so that you do not falter.”

I shake my head. “That’s different.”

“I think it’s quite similar. Both require a certain grace.” His smile, warm and inviting, draws me in like a moth to a flame.

I can feel the weight of his gaze upon me, and for a moment, all the noise and chatter of the ballroom fades into the background. It’s just the two of us, caught in the swirling dance of the moment.

Over his shoulder, I spot the king and queen. His brows are drawn down as he speaks with her, and I notice her pallor has a reddish hue to it. It must be the wine. The king takes her by her gloved elbow and says something that makes her bite her lip and frown. My guess is that he’s cutting her off from having more wine. Perhaps he’s afraid she will embarrass herself.

The queen pulls her arm free and turns on her heel. Her pace is quick as she leaves the room, her maidservants scurrying after her.

The king scowls at the table and runs his fingers down his white beard.

Torbin spins me, and I lose sight of the king.

“I have to admit, I find your standing in the Royal Regiment intriguing.” Torbin’s eyes are on me, breaking my trance. “You’ve got quite the reputation as Commander.”

“Thank you, my prince.”

“Celeste, I already told you. It’s just Torbin.”

“Torbin.” I nod. “It’s a position I’ve trained hard for—commanding the regiment. And it’s been especially challenging these past months because of the carnoraxis attacks.”

“Ah, yes. Dreadful. Are you fighting them off with just weapons? Or do you have some special fae power that gives you an advantage?”

I stop myself from stiffening. Though we may be old acquaintances, I am not yet comfortable sharing my lack of fae powers with him. “Fae powers do help. Strength and speed, mostly. I heal quicker than full-blooded humans.”

He lifts his brows. “That would come in handy, indeed.”

“Have you been keeping up with the whole ordeal?” I look over my shoulder, but I don’t spot the king at the table. “Do you know anything about the Shadow Tsar?”

His eyes narrow for a millisecond. “How would I? He’s been a mystery since he usurped the former ruler of Dulcamar. Very secretive, but he’s got everyone’s attention with his army of beasts. I do hear they are full of unimaginable power and strength. To be honest, I’m a bit fascinated by them. But you’ve seen them firsthand, so I’m guessing this isn’t the news you were searching for.”

I release a resigned sigh. For a moment, I had a glimmer of hope that another kingdom, especially a neighboring one that also bordered the enemy’s land, would have some useful information that could help us.

“Celeste.” He stops for a moment and lifts my chin with a finger. “This night is for celebrating. We can attend to all those matters in the morning.”

I give him an apologetic smile. “You’re right. Forgive me.”

“Perhaps we should get some air.” He gestures with his head toward the glass doors that lead to the courtyard. “Clear our heads.”

“Yes. I think that would help.” Anything to break me free from dancing.

My focus goes to the table, but the queen has not returned, and the king is nowhere to be seen. I find it odd that they would leave the ball so soon, but then again, I’m not well-versed in these events. Besides, the prince and I are also departing the ballroom, at least for a moment. Unless he’s planning on sneaking me off for the rest of the night.

I’m not sure I would object.

Torbin turns so we’re both facing the doors and places his hand against the small of my back. My eyes seek out Nadya, who is dancing with a handsome noble in dark blue. She gives me a questioning look, to which I nod, indicating that everything is fine. Some of the nobles and courtiers watch us as the prince and I exit the ballroom. A blush warms my neck and cheeks when a few of the onlookers whisper to each other as we pass by.

“Get used to their stares, Princess.” Torbin’s voice is low, the breath of it vibrating against my earlobe. “You’re their future queen.”

Outside, the music is muffled. The night breeze cools my skin, chasing away any blush that remained. Gas lamps illuminate the courtyard in a soft glow, creating an atmosphere that is both regal and inviting.

We stop near a part of the outer wall that is not covered in ivy. I lean my back against it, welcoming the feel of cold stone on my hot back. “ How long do these balls usually go on for?”

Torbin stands extremely close to me, placing a hand on the wall beside my head. “It depends. Sometimes they end quickly. Other times, they go on until morning.”

“I’ve been to parties that last that long. Though nothing as formal as this. And they usually involve gallons of ale and at least one of my squad members getting into a fist fight.” And more often than not, it’s Isaac. That’s generally followed by Mylo breaking up the fight, Giorgi tending to Isaac’s black eye, and Aila calling them all idiots. “I don’t know how you could possibly tolerate something like this for an entire night.”

“Well, company helps.” He lifts his hand and pushes a strand of hair away from my cheek.

His gaze is so intense that it’s hard to look away, but at the same time, it’s almost too much to bear. “And do you often have that kind of company?”

“None quite as captivating as you.” His eyes roam slowly from my face to my chest and back up.

I can’t hold back the smile that forms on my lips. “I think you’ve had too much wine.” Or maybe I have. I don’t usually let anyone look at me like he is without putting them in their place.

But I guess he falls into a different category than most people.

Prince.

Future husband.

And it helps that he’s pleasant to look at.

He trails two fingertips from my wrist, over my inner elbow, to my upper arm, where the edge of my gown sleeve ends. The feather-light touch makes me shiver. Our eyes are locked, and he inches closer.

A sound comes from behind him, like someone kicking a rock that bounces along the path. My attention is drawn to an archway near the doors, where a figure lurks in the shadows. Torbin’s expression tightens.

“Forgive me, Celeste,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with regret. “Duty calls, but I promise to return to your side before long.” His gaze lingers on mine as he leans in to press a fleeting kiss to the back of my hand .

Duty? Who is that?

With that, he slips away into the shadows, leaving me standing alone in the courtyard, a faint sense of unease stirring within me. I strain to catch a better glimpse of the mysterious figure, whose features remain obscured in the dim light. Indiscernible whispers are exchanged between them, but they move deeper into the shadows, and I lose them altogether.

I huff a breath of frustration, leaning my head back against the wall. As I scan the courtyard, I catch sight of a waft of smoke emanating from under the nearby magnolia tree.

Steely eyes are locked on to me, and I slowly make out the figure of Dante lounging on the bale of hay, his back pressed against the trunk of the tree while he smokes. His stare has an intensity that sends goosebumps up my spine. His demeanor is as inscrutable as ever, his expression unreadable behind the mask of indifference he wears like armor. The end of his cigarillo glows crimson as he inhales, reminding me of a demon’s eye shining in the dark. He blows out a trail of smoke, his glare never leaving me.

Part of me wants to march over to him and demand answers. I don’t understand why he carries such a hatred for me when I’ve never met him before in my life. I can only assume it has something to do with me marrying Torbin. Maybe he can’t stand the idea of anyone coming between him and his brother. If that’s all there is, he’s just going to have to adapt, because whether he—or anyone else—likes it or not, I’m marrying the prince.

Uneasy under his glare, I turn away. I have other things to concern myself with. For instance, finding out where Torbin disappeared to. He said he’d be back in a moment, but I have strange feeling in my gut. Who was that person he disappeared with to talk to? And why did it all seem so secretive?

As the muffled strains of music tear at my ears, curiosity gets the better of me. Ignoring the protests of my better judgment, I follow in Torbin’s footsteps, determined to uncover whatever secrets he might be hiding. I’ve been trained to protect myself, and I will not fall victim to a trap, if that’s what awaits me at Ivystone .

I find a door in the depth of the shadows. Torbin and the mystery person are nowhere in sight, so I have to assume they entered through here. I take my chances and open the thick, wooden door. The place looks unfamiliar, but then again, I still have no concept of the castle’s layout. The sconces on the walls make shadows dance around me. As I make my way through the corridors, a distant sound catches my ear—a soft, plaintive sob emanating from somewhere nearby.

My ears perk up, and I follow the sound. I can barely make out the sound of a man’s harsh voice. The sharp clamor of shattering glass causes me to halt. Instinct drives me to pull up my skirts and unsheathe my dagger. A girl or woman cries out, resolving into sobs.

With a sinking heart, I hasten toward the source of the sound, my dagger palmed and ready.

As I approach the door from where the sound is coming, my heartbeat quickens. My muscles are tight, my senses on high alert. With a tentative hand, I reach out to grasp the doorknob, my fingers flexing as I prepare to throw open the door.

Before I can even turn the handle, a sudden sensation seizes my arm with a firm grip, causing me to startle. But my soldier reflexes take over, and I whirl around, pressing the dagger to the throat of whoever has dared to grab me.