Page 8 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

“Have you told your father you are very much not interested in Alger?” said Duke Callum as we danced together.

Twenty minutes had passed since I’d last seen Alger, and I grew hopeful that he’d slinked away to lick his wounds.

In the meantime, an Earl’s son had been plenty happy to dance with me until Callum cut in.

“I haven’t, Your Grace,” I sighed.

“You ought to. It would be most prudent. It seems like he was bothering you.” Callum raised an eyebrow.

“He was,” I admitted. “He is under the impression that I am the key to the king’s favor.”

Callum snorted a laugh at that, his hand tightening reflexively on my waist. “While I’m sure there is some truth to that, it seems he has built up an unrealistic ideal.”

“I should think so,” I said, taking a step back, just in time to avoid having my toe trod on. “Not to sound ungrateful.”

“You don’t,” Callum assured me. “Merely rational.”

“You are too kind,” I told him, face heating.

“No,” he said, grinning now. “I am simply a realist. I will tell you what I know to be true, to the best of my abilities. And I know that Alger does not share my beliefs.”

“And what, exactly, are your beliefs?” I dared ask. Of the men I’d danced with last night, he was by far my favorite. A part of me wanted to know more about him, even as another feared the attention it may attract.

“What do I believe, Your Highness?” Genuine surprise crossed his face. Like so many others, it seemed as if he couldn’t believe I was interested in anything outside of gardens and ballrooms and jewels. Perhaps I’d overestimated him.

Blushing, I said, “I do think perhaps I’ve overstepped, My Lord.”

He shook his head. Brown curls bounced, soft and silky.

I was drunk enough to want to touch them, but didn’t dare.

“No, you merely caught me off my guard. A green mistake, though I admit it’s rather appropriate,” he said, gesturing to my dress.

“It is an intimate question, though. Are you sure you want the answer?”

I bit my lip. “I admit my curiosity is burning.”

The implication was scandalous. His eyebrows raised. “I see,” he said slowly. “Very well, Your Highness. I believe in truthfulness and fair trade. I hold no gods dear. I oppose cruelty, war, and sensationalism, and instead encourage rational thought. And…” His voice trailed off.

“And?” I asked. The sudden heat in his gaze sent my stomach swooping.

“I do believe my interests are misplaced,” he said, just as the dance ended, and we switched partners.

What did he mean by that? That I disappointed him? That he’d considered me as an option, but had lost interest?

Or had he meant the opposite?

I didn’t have long to ponder before Alger cut in. In his haste to take over, he elbowed my partner in the ribs.

“Really,” he snapped, squeezing me too tightly round the waist, fingers digging into me with bruising force as my partner stumbled away from us. “That was a nasty trick. You nearly got me barred from the banquet.”

“You ought to know better than to follow a lady against her will,” I huffed. “I asked you to give me privacy, and you didn’t. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“And then you ran to Callum,” he complained, as if he hadn’t heard me.

If I thought he smelled of alcohol earlier, he positively reeked of it now.

His steady feet could not conceal the slur of his words.

I’d spent too much time around Baden to be easily fooled.

I knew a slave to the drink when I saw one.

“I did no such thing. I happen to enjoy speaking to the duke. He is most pleasant.”

A foot came down upon my toes. I gasped, more from the audacity than the pain.

Alger laughed. “And if I ask your opinion of me?”

“I’d rather keep that to myself,” I said, trying frantically to catch the eye of Ria, of Callum, even of Baden.

Only my jilted dance partner noticed. When I looked to him, he turned away, as if ashamed to be caught watching us.

“You won’t get away with that for long. I intend to speak to the king,” Alger said, practically gloating.

Gods . My stomach flipped. I feared I might spew my dinner upon his satin waistcoat. “Why? So you can spend your life trying to tame me?”

“You won’t be independent for long,” he said, shaking his head. “Your kind never are.”

A wave of fury cracked across my ribs like the black waves of the sea at night. I stomped on his toes with the point of my heel. Drove it down with all my might until he yelped and his grip loosened.

I took the opportunity to shove him away from me. To make it clear to anyone watching that he was a hateful, controlling man, and that he was hurting me .

Alger crashed into Lady Alenda, who tumbled into the arms of her startled partner.

Gasps rang out among the crowd.

“Don’t touch me!” I shrieked, continuing to back away.

Guards moved toward us. Alger’s expression was torn between fury and panic. The King raised bushy eyebrows and abandoned his conversation with the Duke of Cardald to stalk across the dance floor.

I held a hand to my breast, panting, ready to disappear behind the guards.

Then the screams began.

At first, Alger leapt away from me, as if afraid that he’d triggered not only my panic, but the panic of every woman in the room.

But the screams came from outside, down the hall.

The King stormed past us, checked Alger with his shoulder and muttered, “I’ll deal with you later.”

Alger’s eyes nearly bugged from his head.

Around the room, curious glances darted from me, to Alger, to the guards racing to the doors.

Then began the mad rush to the windows and the doors, an endeavor that quickly ended when everyone outside poured back into the banquet hall, shouting and shoving their way through the crowd.

Women ran with missing shoes, with hair half-fallen from elaborate updos, wild-eyed, waving their arms. Men, too, yelled over the din, their coats rumpled, hair disheveled.

Someone had spots of blood along his back.

Among the confusion, I heard cries of, “Tocchia! Tocchia is here!”

My blood ran cold.

They’d had come at last.