Page 47 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

“I could have told you that. Why do you think I wear it so often?”

“I figured it was just your preference for leathers,” he muses as he leads me down the marble-tiled hallway.

“You figured wrong,” I say lightly. “My mother actually made me wear color the last time you escorted me to a ball.”

He chuckles. “That does not surprise me in the least.”

A sly grin plays at the corner of his lips before he comments, “And what I said about you at the last ball still stands.”

“And what was that?” I ask as we slow to a stop just behind Aurelius and Charlotte.

Charlotte is dressed in a low-cut ball gown that starts as a deep red and gradually fades into a shimmering gold. Her shoulders are bare, but long sleeves cover her thin arms. Aurelius’ arm is wrapped loosely around her lower back, brushing the exposed skin.

“The colors of House Mordet suit you beautifully,” Ayden whispers against my ear. Then, softer, more wicked, “But you still look even better out of them, love.”

“Ouch!” Charlotte gasps, stepping away from Aurelius.

I catch the angry red mark blooming on her porcelain skin where his hand must have gripped too tightly.

“Aw, Charlotte,” I say sweetly. “It’s such a shame you're so delicate. At least the mark blends in with the color of your beautiful dress.”

She shoots me a seething look, but before she can respond, Aurelius pulls her forward as they’re announced.

“That was rather cruel of you,” Ayden comments.

“So is your constant taunting and using me to hurt your brother.”

“Is that truly what you think?” He asks, face solemn. “That I’m trying to hurt Aurelius?”

“That is certainly how it appears, Ayden.”

Ayden sighs. “Yes, I suppose it may appear that way,” he admits. “But I’m not trying to hurt either of you, Breyla.”

Before I can ask what he is trying to do, we’re ushered forward.

The herald announces us. “ Princess Breyla Rosaria, betrothed of Prince Ayden, future Queen of Prudia .”

A wave of applause rises up to meet us.

The ballroom is filled with royals, nobles, and common folk alike, all masked and glittering under chandeliers of a thousand candles.

Ayden introduces me to what feels like half the kingdom, and I make an earnest effort at remembering their names. I’m not sure what good it will do since everyone here is masked. Though my mask may not be hiding my identity well, others certainly are.

I’m flooded with well-wishes for our marriage and questions on everything from the style of my dress to whether I’m looking forward to my first night with the prince. The last question leaves me momentarily floored, and thankfully, Ayden intervenes before I’m forced to answer.

Ayden, ever the savior, swoops in with an offered hand. “Shall we dance?”

“Please,” I nearly beg.

Ayden sweeps me onto the floor in a traditional waltz.

I find the steps without thinking, grateful for something, anything , familiar.

“You look overwhelmed, love,” he says, smiling softly.

I bite my lower lip. “Maybe just a bit.”

“I thought you’d be accustomed to this.”

“To which part?” I ask dryly. “Being engaged? Balls with nearly a thousand guests? Or the questions from strangers regarding your bedroom skills?”

Ayden nearly stumbles mid-step, laughing so hard he has to grip my waist tighter.

“Relax, darling,” he chuckles. “We’ll figure it out together. This is new for me as well.”

“You mean to tell me your subjects don’t normally inquire about your sex life?”

“Not typically, no.” He grins. “I think they’re just excited to have a new princess.”

“They already have a princess,” I point out.

“Yes, and they love Rowina dearly, but she will never rule. If she has her way, she’ll never marry or bear children, either. You, Breyla, represent the future. They will adore you.”

By the time the dance concludes, I feel the nerves settling.

I wrap my arms around him in an appreciative hug. “Thank you.”

“It is always a pleasure to dance with you, Breyla.” Ayden squeezes me gently before patting my shoulder.

“May I steal your partner?” A sultry voice asks.

Charlie.

“Gladly,” I say, smiling as sweetly as I can manage.

Taking a step back, I let the shadows of the corner consume me as the next song begins.

Ayden sweeps Charlie through the room, and my eyes wander to the other dancing couples. I’m surprised to find Darian leading Rowina in a graceful dance, her head thrown back in pure joy at something he says.

They fit together seamlessly, their moves practiced and fluid. Her smile is blinding, and the look he gives her is something I recognize. Yearning. Dancing with her is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. His navy eyes track her every movement in a deeply meaningful way. This male wants her.

I break my gaze, the moment feeling far too intimate for observation.

“Are you hiding, Princess?” Aurelius asks, startling me out of my silent perusal.

“No, I was hoping someone would find me,” I say flatly. “That’s why I cloaked myself in shadows in the corner of the room, after all.”

Aurelius chuckles deeply, shaking his head. “I see that tongue is still sharp.”

“I keep a whetstone by my bed to ensure it stays that way.”

He laughs again, and I wonder if he may be drunk.

His eyes aren’t on me, but Ayden. I track their movement, seeing a look of pure discomfort and horror on Ayden’s face.

He’s holding himself at an awkward distance from Charlie as they spin through the ballroom.

My eyes flick back to Aurelius. “Two questions for you.”

“Hm?” Aurelius asks, his eyes finding mine.

“How did you find me in the shadows?”

“I’ve been watching your tricks for years. I know when something looks unnaturally dark,” Aurelius explains. “Whether you’re aware, or want to admit it or not, your shadows are quite fond of me.”

I chuff in annoyance, displeased that my own Gift would betray me like that. “Why are you so… jovial? You’ve been watching Ayden the entire time you’ve been talking to me.”

He grins, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

“You could say I’ve repaid Ayden’s kindness with the compliment he gave you before entering.”

I process his words, trying to recall what Ayden had said.

“ The colors of house Mordet suit you beautifully… but you still look even better out of them, love.”

Realization dawns on me, Ayden’s stiff posture suddenly making sense. “You gave him a boner, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aurelius says innocently.

“Unbelievable,” I murmur.

“Is it, though?”

I give a half-hearted laugh. “Not really.”

He shrugs. “I learned my mischief from the best.”

“My father?” I surmise.

“In a way, I suppose.” Aurelius smirks. “But I was thinking of you, actually.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted right now.”

“Maybe a bit of both,” he suggests.

Our eyes meet, and for a brief moment, the world stops spinning around us. The sound fades to silence, the guests disappear, and it’s just us.

But then Ayden’s voice startles me out of my stupor, bringing reality crashing down.

“Breyla?” he calls for me, his eyes passing over us as he searches the room.

Aurelius’ hand wraps around me from behind, his arm snaking down and resting against my lower belly. Warmth pools in my core as his form presses firmly against me.

“He can’t see us, Princess.” His breath is hot against the shell of my ear. “Are you going to move your shadows and allow him a view?”

One hand trails lower as the other grasps my breast, kneading the flesh tenderly. Soft kisses pepper my jaw, his tongue trailing over my pulse point and swirling at the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder. A shudder wracks my body, goosebumps covering every inch of exposed skin.

Charlie’s voice douses the flame when she calls, “Aurelius?”

With the moment gone, I push Aurelius away, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

I straighten my dress, ensuring my hair is in place, before releasing the shadows.

“There you are,” Ayden says, a smile lighting his handsome face.

“I just needed a moment of solitude,” I explain, returning his smile.

“Now, shall we eat?”

I nod, allowing him to lead us to the table.

We take our seats near the head of the table, and I catch the queen’s eye just briefly enough to tell me she is disappointed in my dress.

Though she says nothing, her displeasure is clear.

The first two courses pass quickly, the wine flowing freely and joyful chatter filling the space around me. By the third course, drunken laughter and light-hearted conversation are all I can hear.

“So, tell us, Prince Aurelius, might we be hearing of another royal engagement soon?” A lord whose name I do not remember asks.

I somehow manage to maintain my composure, something hot and bitter boiling inside me.

Aurelius does not. In a rare lapse of control, Aurelius chokes on his food, pure shock lining his features.

He wipes the errant crumbs from his lips with a gold napkin before responding. “I highly doubt there are any suitable matches for a bastard such as myself.”

Charlotte leans over, clearing a bit of debris he had missed.

The move is so intimate that it makes me sick. I avert my eyes, clenching my fists beneath the table in an attempt to control my temper.

The lord chuckles. “It looks like there’s a perfectly suitable match at your side right now.”

I reach for my wine goblet, swallowing a generous amount to cool the rage pooling in my core.

“I don’t?—”

“Aurelius and I make a handsome couple, don’t we?” Charlotte cuts in, a coy smile firmly in place as she leans in and kisses Aurelius.

Her delicate hand traces his jaw as my own burns.

“Princess Breyla,” the queen gasps. “Are you quite alright?”

I glance down to find the crystal wine glass shattered, red wine mixing with the pooling blood and dripping onto the table.

Only then do I recognize the fire in my palm to be from a broken shard of glass lodged under my flesh.