Page 24

“Have you lived in the city for long?” I asked, noticing the way his eyes lit up as he spoke about it.

Veric grinned, his expression playful and full of pride. “For as long as I can remember. I can’t wait to share it with you. The food, the people, the music—everything here is so vibrant. It’s unlike any other place in all of creation.”

I shifted in my seat, still feeling trapped in the awkward formality of our meeting. “It will be lovely to spend the day together. ”

Veric’s eyes sparkled as he took in my words. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but hesitated, sighing softly before leaning closer to me. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Actually, I think I have an idea for tomorrow.”

“Yes?”

“In the name of building trust, what if, just for a day, we forget about the marriage and the alliance and simply enjoy exploring the city together? I’ll take you to my favorite shops, and we can do or say whatever we like without worrying about politics or expectations.

You’ll just be you, I’ll just be me, and we’ll focus on having some fun.

Then, when we return to the engagement ball, we can go back to being diplomatic and responsible.

Until then, I want us both to feel comfortable enough that we can simply be ourselves. "

His suggestion took me by surprise, and even though I still had plenty of misgivings,I couldn’t stop the small smile spreading across my lips.

If he was being honest about simply wanting to build a friendship between us, then perhaps spending our first day together free of expectations could be. .. nice.

Because if he was being genuine about wanting a partner in his wife, then I could admit that it would be nice to have a partner in my husband.

“I think I would very much like that, Veric.”

His smile widened into something remarkably radiant, a perfect white grin that made him seem even more approachable.

He squeezed my shoulder affectionately just as a young man approached him, calling his name fondly.

Veric turned to greet the newcomer, who spoke to him as though they were old friends.

Veric introduced me briefly, and I nodded politely, but my thoughts lingered on our conversation.

And then, as was always the case, I thought of Clay and wondered if he had heard all of that .

“They will probably expect us to mingle shortly,” Veric whispered under his breath, his tone conspiratorial. “Truthfully, I’ve never been fantastic at feigning interest in small talk.”

“Well, in all honesty, neither have I.”

“I believe that is part of your job description, Councilwoman, is it not?” Veric’s eyes glinted mischievously, a playful spark lighting his features.

I blinked at him, momentarily surprised. It took me a moment to recognize the teasing in his tone.

First, he offered me a reprieve from formalities, and now he teased me as though we were already old friends.

It was becoming obvious that Veric was nothing like I had feared he would be.

I wasn’t sure what was worse: being chained to a cruel man or having an incredibly kind, likeable man chained to me while my affections were so obviously somewhere else.

“It’s a new position,” I said, smiling sheepishly. “You could say I’m learning as I go.”

He extended a hand to me as he stood. “Perhaps we should go learn together, then.”

This time, when I offered him my hand, it wasn’t because I felt obligated or because an entire room was watching. It was because I wanted to.

We moved through the room together, mingling with guests, as others drew us into different conversations.

Everywhere we went, Veric was careful to introduce me first and include me in every discussion.

When one of his friends mentioned a recent harvest of dates, Veric stopped to ask if I liked the fruit.

When a young woman proudly spoke of her work teaching mythology at a new school, he turned to me, curious about my experiences learning mythology at the Athenian castle.

Each time we moved to another guest, his hand on my waist was a steady, reassuring presence.

His behavior was... remarkably perfect .

“Would you like to dance?” he asked suddenly as the band transitioned into an upbeat melody, the string instruments humming with life.

My gaze shifted to the center of the hall, where guests had begun to rise and fall into step with practiced ease.

Women twirled in quick circles around their partners, their feet kicking lightly before their movements culminated in graceful lifts.

The men shuffled them effortlessly between their arms, the steps both intricate and elegant.

“I don’t know the steps,” I admitted. “And truthfully, I’m a terrible dancer.”

Veric took my hands gently, leading me to the outskirts of the dance floor. “It’s simple, really,” he said with a warm smile, lowering his voice to count the rhythm for me. “See? One, two, kick. Three, four, hop. We repeat that three times. On the fourth, I’ll lift you.”

A nervous laugh escaped me as heat crept up the back of my neck. The steps looked effortless when performed by the others, but Veric’s instructions seemed anything but simple. “I may step on your toes.”

His grin widened. “I would be honored.”

After a quick burst of nerves, I nodded my head softly, accepting the invitation.

Wrapping one hand around my fingers and pressing the other at the small of my back, he pulled me to him.

Though not too close, thankfully. We began moving together, awkwardly at first, our steps out of sync with the tempo of the music.

But gradually, the routine became more familiar, the rhythm easier to follow.

By the fourth repetition, I was moving with confidence—well, mostly.

“You’re doing great!” Veric said, squeezing my waist gently as he lifted me into the air in time with the others.

The rush of air through my hair was exhilarating, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the dance.

I threw my arms up with a laugh, only to lose my balance as the motion threw off my timing.

Veric’s hand slipped from my waist, and I scrambled to grab his shoulders, my feet landing unsteadily back on the ground.

We froze, staring at each other in shock before I burst into a fit of giggles. “I am not doing great,” I admitted between laughs.

Veric was slow to gift me with his smile, but before long, his laughter joined mine. “So, minimal dancing at the wedding?”

“Do you think we could do away with dancing entirely?”

His shrug was playful. “You’re the bride, and a Council member at that. If you say no dancing, they’ll have to listen.”

“Perhaps Lady Moore would find the dances of her own nation easier to manage,” a deep voice interjected from behind me.

Too close behind me.

I turned to meet the brilliantly bright golden gaze of Clayton Vail, who, though he spoke to Veric, kept his attention focused solely on me.

“It seems it’s my turn to protest that I don’t know the steps,” Veric laughed, his tone light, though his expression held a flicker of tension.

“I’m not proficient enough to teach you,” I replied quickly, trying to mask the nerves building in my chest. “Besides, we’ll have plenty of time to learn Athenian dances together when we return.”

Veric nodded, his smile returning, but before he could speak further, the band transitioned into a slower, more familiar tune. Clay’s hand wrapped around my elbow before I could stop him.

“Come now, surely you’d like to prove to your fiancé that you’re capable of dancing without injuring him,” Clay said with a smirk, his charisma laced with something sharper, something that didn’t leave room for negotiation. “I’m happy to serve as your partner for this one dance.”

No.

The last thing I needed—or wanted—was to be dancing with Clayton Vail.

He was the man who left me flustered with anger and longing, the man who lied to me, the man who expected me to carry on as though nothing had happened when he showed up unannounced on this trip, seemingly determined to throw me off balance.

I simply could not dance with him. Not when he had a fiancé at home and I had one standing right next to me.

“Prince Vail,” I said, my tone carefully measured. “That’s kind of you, but Veric and I have so little time to get to know one another before our wedding. As I said, he and I will have plenty of time to learn the Athenian dances together.”

Clay didn’t let go of my elbow, even when I gently tugged. Instead, his heated gaze shifted to Veric, his expression tight with unspoken authority.

Veric hesitated, glancing between the two of us, before he nodded and stepped back. “The Prince is right,” he said smoothly, though his smile faltered slightly. “This celebration is as much for you as it is for me. Enjoy the dance—I’ll look forward to hearing about it.”

He pressed a kiss to my knuckles before stepping away, leaving me alone with Clay, whose arm slid easily and far too comfortably around my waist.

“Are you out of your mind?” I hissed under my breath, my irritation boiling over.

“You might say that,” he admitted, golden eyes scanning over my face and lingering on my lips.

“People will talk.”

“They might,” he replied with a shrug, his tone maddeningly casual as he glanced around us. “But you’ll find the Tenebrisian court is far more discreet than ours.”

The room blurred around us as Clay began to move, guiding me effortlessly through the familiar steps of an Athenian dance. My body betrayed me, following his lead as if it had been waiting for this moment.

“See, you don’t dance horribly,” he pointed out, twirling me away before pulling me close so that my back was pressed firmly against his chest. “You just need the right partner. ”

“You’re insufferable,” I muttered, spinning out once more.

“You like it,” he replied, his grin infuriatingly charming as he pulled me back towards him.

When I stepped on his foot, it wasn’t entirely accidental.

Clay chuckled softly, his grip on my hand tightening slightly as he ran his thumb slowly over my palm. His eyes, still that magnificent shade of gold, trailed down my body, lingering on the slit of my skirt where the blade at my thigh was visible once more.

“I have to admit,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, “the dagger on the thigh is an interesting accessory, but I don’t think it’s having the effect you intended.”

“And what effect do you think I want it to have?” I shot back, my tone sharp despite the heat blooming in my cheeks and the tension curling low in my stomach.

“I suspect you want to remind people you’re not someone easily killed,” he said, his gaze flicking to my face.

“I suspect that even though you put on a brave face day in and day out, the things you went through left scars, and now you need that blade to scare off anyone who might think of trying to hurt you further.”

I titled my head back, momentarily forgetting about the room around us as my body flushed with heat. “And are you not afraid of me?”

He leaned closer, his lips just brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Princess, I’m terrified of you.”

My knees weakened at his words, and he felt it.

His grin widened as his arm tightened around my waist, holding me upright as he continued to guide me through the dance.

Around us, the room was insignificant; the music, the laughter, the murmured conversations all faded into the background, as it so often did when he was this close to me.

Clayton Vail had always seen me—truly seen me—in a way no one else ever had. And for that, I hated him. But there was something else I felt for him, something deeper that I refused to name, that burned just as hot as my anger when he said things like that.

“But as I was saying,” he continued. “That dagger is having a very different effect on me than the one you intended. So you’ll have to excuse me for stealing you away for a moment.

I had planned to stay out of your way tonight—I really did.

I even told myself I wouldn’t look at you but then you walked in, wearing this dress, with so much of your perfect skin on display and a blade strapped to your thigh, and you looked like a Goddess in a room full of Mortals.

After that, I couldn’t help myself. Spending the night watching you, dressed like this, on another man’s arm was not a form of torture I had been prepared for. ”

My breath caught in my throat, and I stumbled slightly, breaking step. Clay’s arm tightened again, steadying me, his expression unreadable.

He was jealous.

The realization struck me like a blow. Clayton Vail was jealous. The knowledge sent a rush of emotions surging through me—satisfaction, confusion, and something that felt dangerously close to hope.

Although what I was hoping for was beyond me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, staring up at him.

He held my gaze, not even blinking. “For what, princess? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You haven’t either, not really.”

Clay raised a brow, and I knew what he was thinking without him having to say the words.

“Yes, you should have told me about Elaina sooner, but that engagement isn’t in your control any more than this one is in mine.”

I sighed heavily, unhappily. Dancing with him was easy, effortless. How could something feeling so incredibly right be so terribly forbidden? It simply wasn’t fair.

“Sometimes, I think about how things would be different if it were in my control,” he admitted.

“And what would you change?”

“A lot,” Clay laughed darkly before looking down at me again, the fire in his eyes sending waves of heat down my body. “But for starters, you wouldn’t be sleeping across the hall tonight.”

The music slowed, the melody winding down to its final, lingering notes. We came to a stop, standing far too close, our gazes locked. I opened my mouth to speak, to say anything that might break the tension crackling between us, but no words came.

“Clay, I—”

“Lady Moore, perhaps I might trouble you for the next dance?” Emperor Kamon’s voice interrupted from behind me, startling me back into the present.

I turned quickly, my heart still racing as I forced a smile onto my face. “Of course,” I replied, stepping away from Clay and taking the Emperor’s offered hand.

As the music picked up speed again, returning to the fast-paced string melodies favored by the Tenebrisians, Emperor Kamon began speaking animatedly about the musicians and their skill.

I tried to focus on his words, but my attention kept drifting back to Clay.

He stood at the edge of the room now, his wineglass in hand, watching me with an intensity that set my skin aflame.

Then, without a word or a glance in my direction, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving me alone with the lingering echoes of his touch.