Page 17 of The Throne Seeker

There were so many things, she could scarcely name them all. She let out a puff of air, too tired to argue.

What in Vallor had she gotten herself into?

CHAPTER 7

As the night went on, Rose danced with more men than she could count, with new partners continually emerging. Her mother dedicated herself to ensuring Rose stayed occupied, introducing her to a fresh dance partner with each song. It wasn’t until a gray-haired man asked her mother to dance that Rose finally managed to slip away.

With a sigh of relief, her feet led her to the beverage table. Her throat was dry as bones. She picked up a rose-shaped glass filled with a bubbly concoction, savoring the flavors of pear and mint on her tongue.

She’d barely taken her third sip when a male voice came from behind her.

“Would you care to dance?”

She groaned internally. So much for a break.

Setting her glass back down on the table, she braced for another round as she turned to look at who she’d be dancing with this time.

She almost stepped back when she discovered Roman towering over her, now close enough that she could take in his transformation properly.

Despite being two years younger than her, he towered a whole head taller. His training had doubled his body mass, and his pristine gold general’s uniform accentuated the muscle he’d accrued, bringing out the warm hues of his tanned skin and the gold flecks in his amber eyes.

He was still waiting for an answer when she finally found her voice. “Of course,” she said, even managing a bright smile for her close childhood friend.

His mouth didn’t curve upward with hers as he extended a rigid arm.

She peered at it hesitantly. The gesture felt so… formal. Still, she accepted it, her gaze locked on him as he guided her to the dance floor. It was hard to believe she wasn’t dancing with a stranger. In a way, she supposed she was.

With a single step, he bridged the gap between them. His rough, calloused hand gently grasped hers, their fingers intertwining, while his other hand splayed on her upper back, drawing her close.

She fought the hitch in her breath. There it was again—the unfamiliar energy, just like on the balcony, heightened by his touch.

They fell into rhythm with the music as Roman took the lead. She tried to read his expression, but he kept his face carefully devoid of emotion.

It was silent for the first few bars until she spoke. “We’re all so glad to have you back,” she said, trying to engage in conversation as they navigated through the dancing couples. “I know your mother must be thrilled. I’m surprised you aren’t in her grasp right now. How did you manage to escape?”

He glanced over the shoulder of his padded uniform as if he could see her from there. “It seems she’s occupied with Tristan tonight.” Even his voice was deeper than she remembered. “I’m sure Xavier is relieved to have the attention off him for a night.”

Xavier. Where had he gone? She scanned the room, but there was no sign of him. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him since dinner. But then again, she should have expected it. Xavier had always detested dancing more than both of his brothers combined.

Roman drew her attention back to him as he spun her. She moved with trained elegance, her blue dress trailing behind her.

“You handled the spotlight well tonight,” Roman said.

“I’m glad it looks that way, but I must admit it doesn’t come easily to me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so modest; you’ve always handled it well.” A tight, distant smile formed on his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re all my father and Tristan can talk about since I arrived. I was surprised to hear you came back… I didn’t think you would.”

His tone was too cold for liking. A lump lodged in her throat. Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t like him. “Why wouldn’t I? I always have.”

Before answering, he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her into the air, and gently lowered her back into his embrace. “Why didn’t you come back last summer then?”

She had expected that question, even prepared for it. She wished she could tell him how she’d spent the last year fighting her own battles while he was off fighting his. But that wasn’t the answer she and her mother had agreed upon.

“There were things we needed to take care of at home. After my father died, we needed space…Ineeded space.” She relayed the same excuse she’d given everyone.

His shoulders tensed beneath her hands. “That’s it? You needed space? That’s all I get?”

“We just needed time to cope with everything. You might think it was selfish, but it was necessary.” Gods, she wished she was a better liar.