Page 101 of A Kingdom Threatened (The Vazula Chronicles 3)

“Yes, it is,” Heath laughed. “But I wasn’t showing you my clothes. I was offering you my arm.”

He tilted his head toward a nearby woman who had been approached in just such a way by another guest at the ball. Copying her, Merletta laid her hand on Heath’s arm, sending him a grin as she did so.

“This feels silly. Is this some sort of tradition for nobles?”

A stifled laugh behind her brought her attention to Bianca.

“Where exactly did you say you were from?” the other girl asked.

“Thanks, Bianca,” said Heath firmly. “I’ve got it from here.”

He led Merletta along the edge of the room, until they were out of earshot of his cousin.

“You look beautiful,” he told her, his eyes traveling slowly over her gown. “It suits you.”

“Does it?” Merletta asked helplessly. “I can hardly move in this thing. I can’t imagine how your women train for combat.”

Heath laughed. “No one trains for combat in a ballgown.”

“What do they do in a ballgown?” she asked doubtfully.

“Dance,” he answered promptly. He glanced at a nearby table. “And eat.”

That part of the plan Merletta had no trouble getting behind. She allowed Heath to fill a plate for her, waiting for him to identify each item before eating it. She saw many curious looks cast at them, but no one seemed overly interested in Heath’s movements. The general mood of the room was a little distracted, and almost every conversation she overheard seemed to be focused on the dragons’ display earlier that day.

Heath, however, made no mention of it. She felt that same unease again, some sense telling her that it was strange how unconcerned Heath seemed to be about the dragons’ offense. Everyone else was acting like it was the end of the world. But then, she reasoned with herself, from what she understood, Heath’s friendship with Rekavidur was unusual. He probably knew what to expect of dragons better than anyone else. Perhaps, like the merpeople, the rest of the humans were unreasonably intimidated by the creatures, due to their size and power and general inscrutability.

She didn’t ask Heath about it, however. When she tried to bring it up, she had the impression he was dodging the topic. Perhaps he was sick of it. Whatever the cause, Heath kept chatting cheerfully with her about other matters until a strange melodic sound started up on the far end of the room.

“Dancing,” he announced.

“Heath, I have no idea how to do that,” Merletta said, alarmed. “Not like a human, anyway.”

“I’ll show you,” he smiled. “To tell the truth, I’m not much of a dancer myself. I usually avoid it—I usually avoid these events altogether wherever possible, and spend most of them stuck in diplomatic small talk where I can’t avoid it. Tonight is the first time I’ve ever been excited for a ball.” His eyes shone as he looked down at her. “Just one dance?”

“All right,” Merletta said, unable to deny that hopeful face. “For you, I’ll try.”

Beaming, Heath took one of her hands in his, and slid his other hand around her waist. There was so much fabric between them, but it still felt intimate, somehow. He pulled her into the center of the room, where other couples were doing the same. Merletta tried not to look at them, or think about how silly she must look. She did catch sight of August, standing awkwardly against one wall, and sent him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

And then Heath started to move, and she lost all sense of her surroundings. It was amazingly personal, this dance in a room crowded with strangers. Heath held her firmly against him, so firmly that his straight posture covered her stumbles. His eyes never left hers, and the glow of satisfaction in their depths was so warming, Merletta let her earlier concerns drift away, at least for the moment.

How often had she dreamed of being in Heath’s arms, no longer separated by the waterline, no longer plagued by the fears and burdens of her world? And now here she was, swaying to unfamiliar music, certainly, but caught in the most familiar gaze she knew.

And he thought she was beautiful, and that she belonged there. Surely it wasn’t wrong to let herself enjoy the sensation, even if only for one night?

When the music ended, Heath pulled her hand gently back through his arm.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

“I’ll give it a try,” Merletta agreed. “It’s still the strangest thing about your human ways, you know. Swallowing water even though you’re in the air.”

Heath laughed. “I’ll find you something more interesting than water,” he promised. “You’ll love it.”

A few minutes later, drinks in hand, they walked through an open doorway leading onto a stone terrace. The gardens below were dark, and lightly dusted with snow, but Merletta made a note in her mind to come back and see them in daylight.

“It’s cold out here,” she commented.

“Do you want to go in?” Heath asked.