Page 59

“Not at the cost of our kingdom being attacked. If anyone breaks it, it will have to be the Kingdom of Flame.”

Hakon walked out of the washroom, dressed in his formal wear for the night.

His clothes were like Herrick's, only where Herrick had silver accents, Hakon had gold to match the crown he had to wear tonight.

The fur lining Hakon was also different, the pure white stark against the darkness of his clothing.

“Let’s get this over with,” Hakon grumbled, reaching for the bottle of amber liquor on the table.

He took a long drink from it before he set it down again and walked out of the room without another word.

“Allfather, help us tonight,” Gunnar murmured.

Herrick couldn’t find it in him to disagree.

The Grand Ballroom to be used for this sham of a party was located at the back of the Palace of Ocean and Clay.

The enormous room’s back wall was made up of two floor-to-ceiling glass panes that slid apart to open into the gardens behind the palace, the tall hedges creating a labyrinth in the night where many couples often found themselves getting blissfully lost.

Inside the ballroom, the walls were lined with generations of Kolbeck royalty, their golden eyes looking down on the partygoers throughout the night. Herrick entered the ballroom shortly after Hakon did, spying the dais opposite the doors that opened into the striking room.

The Queen had spared no effort in decorating Hakon’s Betrothal Ball; gold trimming lined the ceilings, while the center of the floor, where couples would gracefully twirl, had the Kolbeck crest and runes painted in metallic gold.

With the glass doors open to the gardens, the dancers would spin out into the gardens and circle back into the ballroom, taking two atmospheres and blending them seamlessly into one .

In the corner, the musicians hired for the event would string out the melodies his mother found appropriate for the evening, the music floating out into the night air.

His family stood on the dais, the Queen speaking in short, harsh tones to Hakon, who only looked past her in the gardens.

Choosing to avoid that encounter, Herrick found a corner near the glass doors to the garden that seemed to be out of his mother’s field of vision.

He had just leaned against the wall when the first ball patrons arrived.

For an hour, Herrick surveyed every person who walked through the doors.

First, they would look around the room and coo about the elegance and riches involved in the decoration before sliding their mask of nobility into place.

Then, they would greet the royals on the dais and introduce whichever daughter or son they had brought for Hakon.

Hakon would attempt to be polite and interested in the introduction, but the facade would quickly fall away.

After every guest, their mother would scold him silently for his rudeness, and Hakon would clench his jaw.

This ritual repeated until Herrick thought his brother’s teeth might just crumble under the tension.

It was painful to watch him have to sit through every greeting.

Hakon used to be proud of his role and wanted to be a good King for his people.

While Herrick did not think that had changed, he now saw that Hakon began to struggle with the expectations placed on him.

Herrick saw his brother having to choose his duty over his heart.

He saw how it was hurting Hakon and making him resent his position in life.

Unable to interfere directly, Herrick had chosen to hide instead, like a coward.

Just as he grabbed a flute of sparkling wine from a tray near him, he heard the light click of boots next to him.

Herrick turned to find Liv making her way to stand with him.

Her long black hair had been braided in neat rows that ran down the center of her head and had been coiled at the back of her neck, golden clips shining in the candlelight.

She had exchanged her usual fighting leathers for more formal leathers that resembled Gunnar’s, her cloak missing the fur lining reserved for the royal family.

The stark tattooed runes on her head almost glowed in the candlelight.

“I see the seamstress allowed a change in your usual ballroom attire,” Herrick joked as he passed a glass to Liv.

She accepted it and clinked the glass against Herrick’s.

“The point of a knife may have been involved this time,” Liv said, grinning.

They drank deeply and faced the growing crowd, listening to the musicians who had started playing. The sounds echoed through the ballroom in gentle waves that washed over Herrick’s skin, soothing the ragged edges of his mind.

“You’ve been absent the last few days,” Liv pointed out.

“I’ve been busy,” Herrick replied quickly.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with a certain red-haired Heir of Flame, though,” Liv said, a smirk on her face. “You two are insufferable, you know. I can’t figure out if you want to fight or fuck each other.”

Herrick choked on his wine, the effervescent liquid going up into his nose. Liv pounded him on the back a few times.

“Did I hit a nerve?” she asked innocently.

“No.”

“Clearly,” Liv chuckled.

“Are you ready to leave in the morning?” he asked her, changing the topic quickly.

“Of course, I’ve been ready to leave since we arrived.”

“Good,” he nodded.

They stood in silence for a few minutes.

When Herrick opened his mouth to ask Liv about where Maude was, unable to pretend any longer he wasn’t anxious to see her, the crowd before them all fell silent and parted.

Only the gentle rhythm of the music could be heard as Herrick felt Maude enter the ballroom, his skin heating like someone had lit a hearth right next to him.

The first thing Herrick noticed when she entered the room was how she held herself.

Maude’s shoulders were thrown back, her chin elevated.

She moved fluidly through the crowd as if she were made of shadows.

Her deep red hair was untamed, the long, heavy waves hanging down to her lower back.

Braids circled the crown of her head and had been interlaced with silver thread, which caught the candlelight and gave her the illusion of wearing a crown made of starlight.

The gown that had been made for her hugged her curves so devastatingly that Herrick could have fallen to his knees at the sight of her.

The sleeveless black leather bodice had a high neckline that reached all the way up Maude’s throat to her chin and extended down to her waist, kept together with a silky black ribbon down the front.

The skirts were the same matte black shade of the leather bodice, but the closer they got to the floor, the black seamlessly transitioned into a brilliant silver that matched the thread in her hair.

A long slit cut into the skirt exposed her extended leg as she walked, her tanned skin silken in the warm light.

No cloak hung off her bare shoulders, so the black flames that were inked up her arms were on full display.

There was no argument that Maude was royalty. She carried herself regally, a Queen without a throne.

Maude reached the dais where his family stood and placed a fist over her heart, inclining her head in a show of respect. Royalty in Ahland never bowed, but Herrick would bow before her if she asked him to.

Herrick knew he had never seen a more staggering example of beauty and ferocity in one person .

When she turned away from the dais and cut through the crowd once more, Herrick could not help but watch her as she drew in the attention of everyone else in the room so easily.

Liv called out to her from where they were tucked away in the corner.

Maude turned at the sound of her name, and quick relief passed over her face before she slid on her cool, calm mask.

Herrick didn’t miss the tension and heat radiating off her skin; he could see in her mossy eyes how uncomfortable she was to be in such a large gathering.

“Gods, I’m glad this will all be over soon,” Maude said as she reached them, avoiding his eye.

Herrick cleared his throat, attempting to wipe away any evidence that she had struck him stupid when she appeared.

“Maude, you…” words failed him as he ran his gaze over the woman he was doomed to love from afar.

Maude saved him from having to search for his voice. “Herrick, relax. It’s just a dress.”

Just a dress? That dress will be the death of me , Herrick thought.

He let out a small chuckle, the tension in his body easing away the longer he spent at her side.

Liv and Maude spoke for a time while Herrick tried to melt into the walls behind him, trying not to feel so overwhelmed by his feelings for Maude.

A few nobles approached their small group and propositioned Maude for a dance.

She graciously declined them all, leaving Herrick with no small amount of satisfaction.

He knew that he had no right to feel so territorial over her, but that didn’t stop him from almost growling at any person who asked.

“I haven’t seen you in a few days,” Maude said to him, turning to face him fully for the first time that night .

Herrick looked up to see Liv walking toward Gunnar and a few of the soldiers who were stationed inside the ballroom, winking at him when she finally glanced his way. He turned back to Maude, who was still waiting for him to respond.

“I was busy down at the barracks,” he said shortly.

“Yes, Eydis mentioned you had been sleeping in your office.”

Humor danced in her eyes. Herrick tried to avoid being drawn into her gaze, but when it came to Maude, he was weak.

“Well, the life of a General is hectic, and my work is so important, you see,” he joked as he moved closer to her.

“And here I thought you were avoiding me,” Maude teased, looking up at him from beneath her kohl-lined lashes.