Page 45

Raelan

THE BALLROOM TWINKLES WITH CANDLELIGHT cast from the chandeliers overhead, and bodies move across the dance floor, accompanied by a string orchestra. Tables hug the edges of the wide room, and food and drink are in no short supply. From across the room, I watch my mother laughing at something a man seated beside her is saying. Meanwhile, my sisters scurry across the room with a handful of other children, giggling and high on sugar and Yuletide cheer.

I could join my family—I’m not on duty tonight, after all. Rather than armor, I wear my formal regalia: fitted trousers, polished boots, and a crisp long-sleeve shirt and jacket with gleaming buttons and a sharp collar. A pin shines on my chest, a single emerald embedded in a silver housing in the shape of an eye.

His Majesty awarded it to me the week after Alina’s abduction. The Emerald Eye is an honor bestowed upon those who go above and beyond in their duty to the kingdom. There was a ceremony and everything. And yet somehow, I feel I don’t deserve it. Because there is no world in which I would’ve let anyone take Alina from me. I would’ve given my last scale to save her.

And I need no recognition for that—not now, not ever.

I’d have preferred not to even wear the pin tonight, but the king seemed delighted to present it to me, and I will undoubtedly speak with him tonight. And besides, there’s very little I can do these days to avoid the curious eyes and stares of the court.

I used to blend in with the shadows, but they all know who I am now. The knight. The shifter. The princess’s dragon. I can’t say I’m quite used to it, but in time, I hope for their stares to not cause me to wish to crawl from my skin and fly until all I hear is the wind over my wings.

“Sir Ashvale,” says a voice, and I turn to find Princess Rowena standing beside me. Her hair is pulled up and away from her face, and the dark blue gem nestled at the base of her throat makes her blue eyes—the very same shade as Alina’s—sparkle in the flickering candlelight.

A man stands beside her. He’s tall and light skinned, with the same eyes as the king.

Alina’s father.

He’s still mostly a stranger to me, but I have a feeling we’re going to have more opportunities to get to know each other now.

“Your Highnesses.” I bow my head to them both.

“What are you doing over here?” Princess Rowena asks. “You’re much too young and handsome to be lurking about on your own. Don’t you care to dance?” She uses her wineglass to gesture to the couples twirling across the floor. “Or do you have two left feet, like my husband here?”

Prince Jorin smiles, and his eyeglasses glint in the candlelight as he tips his head to regard his wife. “We all have our weaknesses, dear. Remember when you tried to make Alina a cake for her third birthday?” His gaze cuts to me, blue eyes twinkling. “It was a disaster . Remind me to tell you all about it.”

I’m starting to learn that the Ravenscrofts like to tease, and as of late, I’m usually their main target. Even His Majesty’s behavior toward me has changed slightly. But I suppose that’s what happens when you’re suddenly included in family dinner and given invitations to parties instead of having to work them.

I’m still not used to it yet. At least my sisters are enjoying it though.

I draw myself up and smile down at Alina’s mother. “I’ve not yet found a dance partner.” I tip my head. “Unless you’d like to do me the honor? Perhaps you can tell me about that cake.”

Her blue-eyed gaze flicks to something over my shoulder just as the orchestra finishes their waltz. A smile tugs on her mouth. “Hmm, I don’t think so. But perhaps she would.”

Heads turn, the chatter dims, and when I finally shift to look at what has caught everyone’s attention, I find my breath suddenly trapped within my chest.

Up on the second floor, the doors to the ballroom have just opened, and Alina steps onto the balcony looking down at the room below. Her roommates file out behind her, regarding the ballroom with smiles and whispers, but my eyes never leave Alina.

She is... beyond radiant. She’s a gem the likes of which human eyes have never beheld, something worth more than all the gold and silver the kingdoms have to offer.

She’s everything.

And now she’s looking right at me.

Princess Rowena lets out a low laugh and nudges me with her elbow. “Well? You’d best go get her, sir knight.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice.

My feet move across the ballroom floor as though they’re moving through clouds. People part around me with whispers and stares.

But it’s Alina they should be staring at. She’s the candle, and I’m but her shadow, completely content to go unnoticed so long as I can be near her, can bask in her heat and light.

I arrive at the foot of the stairs just as she’s approaching. Her dress hugs her frame, inviting my gaze to appreciate the curve of her waist, the dip of her low back, the column of her—

Her throat.

The dress leaves her neck on full display, and the glittering necklace she wears fastened snugly about her throat only serves to draw more attention to the pink scar in the shape of my jaws.

Tonight, she wears my claiming mark like the finest jewels, an adornment she’s proud to let others see.

Something stirs in my chest—it makes me want to smile and cry. I opt for the former .

I lift my hand to her and feel the weight of one hundred pairs of eyes as her palm slips into mine.

“Your Highness.” I bow my head. “You are... exquisite.”

I’m not so convinced that word does her justice. I’d have to scour the books in the king’s study in search of a word befitting Alina Ravenscroft, though I’m not so sure it even exists.

“You look quite handsome yourself.” Her eyes, brushed with a dark twinkling shadow, assess me from my head to my polished boots. Then she sees the pin on my chest and reaches to touch it with a small smile. “You wore it.”

“Yes, well, I think your grandfather would nettle me otherwise.”

She slips her hand into the crook of my arm, bringing her body close to mine. “He most certainly would’ve.”

I try not to let my gaze linger on the low cut of her dress, the curve of her breasts beneath the thin fabric. But she must feel my interest through our bond, for her smile turns coy.

“Are you quite all right, Sir Ashvale? Your cheeks have taken on a sudden pink hue.”

Immediately, I turn my gaze away. “Quite all right, Your Highness.”

She hums as her friends come up beside her.

“This is crazy ,” Lyra says. Her red hair bursts out around her head in a halo of bouncy curls. She’s wearing a green dress, and I wonder briefly if her rat is hidden in there somewhere. I wouldn’t put it past her. “Are all your parties like this? ”

Alina shrugs one shoulder, and the movement sends her skin shimmering, as though it’s been dusted with glitter. Perhaps it has. Hopefully it’s edible.

My dragon curls inside me, and I try to focus on anything besides Alina. As she speaks with her friends, I count the candles in the chandeliers and then take to tracing the patterns in the marble floor. I’ve only just calmed the heated racing of my heart when Alina says, “Well?”

Flicking my eyes to her, I say, “Well what?”

One of her eyebrows gets pointy in the corner. “Well, do you want to dance with me ?”

Oh, of course. The orchestra is preparing for another waltz, and new couples are taking to the floor.

Thankfully, dance lessons are part of our formal training—I believe the royal family doesn’t wish for us to make a mess of things if ever we find ourselves in a position like this one.

Though I never thought I’d be asked to dance with the princess.

“I’d love to,” I say, then guide her toward the dance floor while her friends drift off toward one of the buffet tables.

Gilda and Clarice stand nearby, vibrating with excitement, their dresses glittering softly in the candlelight. Alina lifts a hand in a wave.

“I’m dancing with you next,” she says to Gilda as we pass by.

My sister’s cheeks go bright pink, and I have to strive not to chuckle at her expense .

Gazes follow us, and when we take our place amongst the other couples, I feel a shift of focus and attention, like the whole room is suddenly looking at us. And maybe they are.

But I just look at her.

Her blue eyes. The curl of her mouth. My scar hugging the side of her throat.

Radiant.

There’s a swell of strings, a moment to catch my breath as Alina loops the train of her dress about her right wrist.

And then we’re gliding across the floor, my hand at her low back, her steps flawless and precise. Her gown swishes and whispers as I twirl her across the marble underfoot. In my periphery, I see the stares, the unveiled curiosity in the many pairs of eyes.

Alina pays them no mind. What she does is smile.

She smiles at me like I’m the only thing she sees, like everyone else could disappear and it would not dim her joy in the slightest. I know this, because it’s exactly how I feel.

She’s the frost to my fire, the earth to my sky. She’s my mate. And destiny got it just right.

The waltz swells and dips, demanding my focus as I lead Alina through the dance. And at the very end, as the strings fade away in a trill of vibrato, she wraps both hands around my neck, pushes onto her toes, and presses her lips to mine as if no one is watching.

And I’m certain that this moment, with her in my arms and the candlelight glittering down across us, will be engraved into my memory for as long as I live.

My first dance with her. And hopefully one of many, many to come.