Page 18 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)

“You see the male to my right who keeps creeping closer?” the shadow queen asks me. The ball is tonight. After having just

two days to prepare, I am here as the princess—here to prove all is well at the Midnight Palace, here to prove that no one

but the queen and the princess herself control Jasalyn. “Gray hair and yellow tunic?”

Beyond the dais, where we stand, the ballroom floor is crowded with noble guests not just from the shadow court but also visitors

from the Court of the Sun and the Wild Fae Lands, but I easily spot the male in question. He has long gray hair, gray eyes,

and pale skin with such a milky pallor I wonder when he last saw the sun. I give the queen a subtle nod.

“ That is Lord Pandian. He’s the one with the Stone of Disenchantment, and the males on either side of him are his sons.” The sons

in question have golden hair but are otherwise as pale and nondescript as their father.

“And you’re sure they won’t suspect anything if Jasalyn is suddenly interacting with them after years of avoiding everyone?”

She already told me that the dais is protected by a sound shield, but speaking so freely about this here still makes me nervous,

so I keep my voice low.

“That entire family is too swollen with arrogance to suspect anything but my sister’s adoration.”

“They’re all staring at me,” I say. She knows I don’t just mean the lord and his sons. Everyone in this ballroom is appraising

me on some level—from curious gazes to outright gawking.

The queen’s lips twitch. “Of course they’re staring. They want to tell everyone they know that they saw the princess for themselves.

They will find every reason that you are or aren’t her.”

“Do they suspect? Why? How? I haven’t even talked to anyone yet.”

“The true princess could be by my side and these fools who want to believe she’s missing would still see her as a fraud. We’re

not here to convince those who have already decided one way or the other. We need to convince those who don’t want to believe

the rumors.”

I swallow hard. It was one thing to pretend to be the princess at Castle Craige when there was no reason for anyone to suspect

anything was amiss, but now the stakes are higher.

“Misha will be here soon,” Abriella says, and my heart kicks into a faster beat. I haven’t seen him since the day we arrived

at the palace. “He’s promised me he’ll stay by your side all night.”

“And how much did he curse you when you gave him that order? He hates me.”

Her smile turns to a grin and her eyes dance in amusement. “With an intensity I’ve never before seen him display.”

“That’s not comforting.”

She scoffs but doesn’t look at me. She’s still scanning the crowd. I know without asking that she’s looking for signs of trouble, as are the dozens of sentries both in and out of uniform throughout the ballroom. “Misha is a king. I wouldn’t dare give him orders. It would be inappropriate.”

I drop my gaze to my hands. “Do you think he will pursue a relationship with your sister—once she’s home?”

“You think he might want to pursue Jasalyn because of what happened between the two of you?” She tuts. “That wasn’t about

Jas. Misha had never shown any interest in my sister before you took on her form.”

“But when we spoke at Misha’s ball, you said—”

“I said I’d hoped , but that was me daydreaming. It wasn’t based in anything. I mostly just liked the idea of her...” Her eyes go glossy

with tears and she swallows. “I liked the idea of her being well enough to fall in love. My sister and my best friend—can

you blame me?”

“I suppose not.”

“Besides, now that I’ve met Kendrick...” Sadness flashes across her features so quickly that I almost question if it was

there at all. “What I would give to know if my sister gets the same look in her eyes when she talks about him as he does for

her.”

“We’ll find her.” Even as I say it, I feel the ticking clock of her bargain closing in on us.

Abriella rolls her shoulders back, then her gaze shifts to the steps behind me. “Misha, we were just talking about you.”

“Are you giving away all my secrets?” he asks.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I can feel him looking at me, so I slowly turn. He’s absolutely regal in his

dark tunic—a blue as deep as night with shimmering maroon and cyan stitching. This is King Misha. His royal facade. The male who rescued me from my twin was warrior Misha. Two sides of the same coin, each equally skilled. Each equally magnetic.

“Good evening.” He might hate me, but there’s no question that I still feel everything for him. I wish Abriella hadn’t spoken about it with me. I don’t need anyone lending my foolish heart an excuse to cling

to unrequited feelings.

“Ready to parade across the ballroom, Princess ?” He uses the title like a barb, like he’s reminding me of everything I’m not.

“Are you ready to pretend you like me?”

His gaze is so potent as it scrapes over me, I feel it like a touch. Like callused fingertips across my skin. “You’re not

the only one who can play a part when necessary.” He turns on his heel and leaves the balcony with the confidence of a male

who has every reason to believe he’ll be followed.

“Have fun,” Abriella says with a wink.

I hurry my steps to catch up with Misha before he can exit the queen’s sound shield. “You know, a polite escort would walk

at a pace I could keep up with,” I say to his back.

He slows and offers his arm.

I hold his gaze for a beat before I take it, ignoring the way my whole body lights up when I’m in contact with him. He hates you.

“I’m sorry you have to escort me,” I say as he slowly leads me down from the dais and to the ballroom floor. The apology is

kinder than railing against him for emotions he’s more than entitled to. It’s fairer than all the heartbroken, unfair accusations

I want to hurl at him. It’s less pathetic than everything I want to ask him for.

I lock those thoughts away before they can do something humiliating like flash across my face.

He cuts his gaze to mine. We need someone near you all night who knows the players in the court.

My eyes widen as I register that he’s not speaking the words but— You’re in my mind.

He arches a brow. Did you forget? Or do you only remember my more remarkable talents?

My cheeks heat. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was flirting. Seeing me in Jasalyn’s form must be messing with his head.

You didn’t speak to me this way when I stayed at Castle Craige.

Only the once. His throat bobs and he tears his gaze from mine. It seems the connection that materialized between our minds that night was never severed.

I feel it now—the path between us, the connection not so much like the thread I’d imagine. More like a rescue rope, thick

and durable.

I’m not sure how I feel about that , I admit, and even though I can feel the connection and know I control my end of it, I still find myself asking, Can you hear my thoughts?

His russet eyes are so magnetic I couldn’t pull my gaze away if I wanted to. Only the ones you feed me.

The tension between us buzzes with everything unspoken.

Perhaps I’m not as good at shielding as I once thought.

He smirks. Or perhaps you don’t want to keep me out as much as you once did.

What’s that supposed to mean? Is he referring to my feelings for him? Really? Rude. You’re sure no one else is available to escort me tonight? The group Abriella pointed out is only steps away. What if they think we’re together and I don’t get close enough to either son to get what I need?

His gaze flicks to mine. If you’re so worried, you should probably stop looking at me like that.

Like what ?

Like you know how my mouth feels on your skin and you’re wondering when you can feel it again.

I gape at him and he lifts a shoulder as if to say he can’t help how I’m feeling.

Stay close , he says as Lord Pandian notices our approach and turns to greet us.

“King Misha,” the lord says, acknowledging him with a curt nod before turning his full attention to me. “Princess, how lovely

to see you in attendance tonight. You look stunning, as usual.” He takes my hand, lifting it to his lips and leaving a slimy

trail behind.

Do not wipe your hand on your skirts , Misha mentally warns me. No matter how much you might want to.

I’m not socially inept. You’ll remember I fooled you without an issue.

Trust me. I remember.

Lord Pandian tugs lightly on my hand, bringing me forward. “Princess, it is my pleasure to introduce you to my sons—Leon and

Ezra.”

“Good evening,” I say, bowing my head politely toward each of them. “Thank you for joining us.”

Ezra steps forward and takes my hand, bringing it to his lips as his father did. “The pleasure is ours, Princess.”

“It’s a relief to see you well,” Leon says, taking his turn adding his own slippery kiss to the back of my hand. “We’d heard

you’d befallen a terrible fate.”

“Which rumor was that?” Misha asks. His eyes dance and his lips quirk as if he’s trying to hold back an amused smile. “Did you hear the one where she was kidnapped by the sea dragon or the one where she ran away with her goblin lover?”

As far as I know, neither of these is a rumor that’s been circulating, but that’s precisely why Misha’s using these examples—to

make the rumors that hit a little too close to home seem equally ridiculous.

Ezra clears his throat and blushes. “Neither. We, uh...” He glances at his father, then to me, then to his brother. “We’d

heard that—”

“What matters is that you’re here and you’re well,” Lord Pandian says. “I hope you’ll take some time from your evening to

get to know my sons. Perhaps you can start with a dance.” He gestures to the dance floor.

I brighten my expression, as if this is just what I want to hear. “I—”

“The princess isn’t dancing tonight,” Misha says. “Too many people to greet, you understand.” He’s already pulling me away.

What are you doing? I ask Misha as I shoot a disappointed glance in Ezra’s direction. They are ready to hand over just what we need.