Page 68 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 68 – LORIA

I t was hardly as if I could say I was surprised that Nathon had disappeared, again. Only it had been seven days, and people were starting to notice his absence.

After all, the ball had just begun, and Nathon was nowhere to be seen.

I entered not entirely alone, but with the other candidates who were all dressed in clothes both lavish and eloquent. Their escorts were dressed equally beautifully. Just as with the opening ceremony, the games, this whole affair, a chance to make a lasting impression was grasped at eagerly by everyone.

I made myself scarce and went to find some drinks at a table far across the room. All around people chatted, danced, and laughed. Some falsely, some joyfully, some heartily. The atmosphere here was at complete odds with my sense of unease, and with the true nature of this place, these people.

The King was already sitting at the centre of a banquet table at the front of the room, surrounded by other high-ranking officials, his Council members, and his cousin. His arm was out of a sling now.

“You look beautiful, Your Highness.” Princess Rhana approached me.

I looked over her form. She wore a dress, a stunning grey, with a tight bodice and large bottom which trailed behind her, and gloves that extended to her elbow. The sleeves of her dress skimmed their edges. Those sleeves were laced with silver, dusted over the fabric like frost, similar to the decorations interwoven into her curls.

“You far outshine us all, Your Highness,” I replied.

She gestured at my dress. “Coming from the one who wears gold so well.”

The gold silk draped over my form like a curtain. Its back was bare to the hips and its front was pinched under the breasts. It left me feeling as if I were scintillating, but glaringly so, in the way the sun might, when it strikes your eyes at an uncomfortable angle.

“I’m not sure that’s…” I started.

But Rhana’s eyes widened, observing something over my shoulder. She didn’t say anything, only took one step back and curtsied.

I braced myself for the inevitable.

Turning around slowly, I replicated her action.

“Your Majesty,” I said.

The King watched me as I sank and rose, his dark red eyelashes fluttering.

“No cloak this time.” He smiled amusedly.

Against my better judgement, I smiled back, surprised by his statement.

“Unfortunately not,” I said, only half truthfully.

“I would say it's rather fortunate,” he stated, regarding me keenly.

I averted my gaze and gracelessly reached over for my drink, knocking it over in the process. I hurriedly picked it up and went to clean up the stain it had left behind.

“It’s alright,” the King said. A servant had stepped in to erase my mess as I turned towards him.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“I’ve never been to a ball before,” I admitted.

“Oh?” The King’s voice raised his eyebrows.

I cleared my throat, with no real need to clear it. “So, Your Majesty will have to forgive me for any"— I glanced over to the servant who was still cleaning up the stain— “mishaps.”

The King stepped closer to me. He reached out his hand.

“Will you dance with me, Princess?”

I stared at his open palm, his fingers pale and long.

The moment he had asked, the moment he had reached out his hand, a stillness had settled throughout the hall, sticking to everyone. It had lifted the voices and conversations from their lips, and held onto them tightly, keeping them at bay.

I could feel Rhana and her escort watching with shock, could see from behind the King’s shoulder, Dyna and the Captain staring at me.

They weren’t the only ones.

“I thought…Your Majesty, that it wasn’t permitted for the King to dance at this ball.”

The King’s hand remained where it was. “Then…would you like to be the first to change that… with me?”

Where was Nathon now? When I needed him, at this critical moment.

I found myself surprised at the thought. What did I truly need Nathon for now?

I placed my palm in the King’s. Small gasps, both delighted and disgusted, scattered throughout the four corners of the room.

We had touched.

It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time we had truly touched, and everyone was watching.

His palm was unexpectedly cold, not overly, but invitingly so against my own warm one. We made our way to the centre of the hall, where others were dancing. They cleared a path for us, many of them stopped momentarily. The musicians stopped playing, waiting for the King to be ready.

For us to dance.

The music began. The King’s hand found its way to the small of my back, sliding there carefully and gently. He was far taller than I was, and to look at his face, this close, I had to tilt my neck back quite an amount. As we began to move, his fingers clasped around my own and he gazed at me with no small amount of interest.

Or was it something else behind his eyes? Something worse? Something more? Something better? Something deeper?

I couldn’t tell.

He leant forwards to speak directly at the side of my face, next to my ear. “You’ve never been to a ball, yet you dance so well. How is that?”

I swallowed nervously. I could feel my palm clamming up against his steady hand, which meant he could as well. I supposed if he sensed I was nervous, it wouldn’t arouse any suspicion, so as long as the true reason for my nerves remained concealed…

Which were…what exactly? That I was standing this close, whispering and dancing with a man I was destined to kill.

Or that…I was beginning to doubt I even could.

Would it be like this? If I could make him choose me? Would it be a night where he lay by my side, as he whispered, joked, and smiled, as he looked at me with hope and wonder? Would it be a night like this when I killed him? What would his face look like? What would his eyes say then, at that betrayal?

“I learnt to dance when I was young, Your Majesty, but I never used…my lessons. Until now.”

“What else have you learnt?”

What did that mean?

“Your Majesty?” I replied, confused.

“What do you do when nobody is looking? When they aren’t all watching like they are now? When you’re alone? Do you dance then?” His voice floated, intertwining with the music swelling around us.

I laughed, my voice quivering with anxiety, “No.”

“Then?” the King asked. Our exchange was largely inaudible, as the sound of strings moved through the air, but there were plenty of people, I assumed, who would be able to lip read in the crowd.

“I…read much. I used to spend much time in the library at the Citadel as a child. I would always trouble my guards to accompany me there. I think”— I smiled at the memory a little — “they grew tired of the books but…I never could.”

“You have a favourite?” the King asked.

My mouth twisted into an awkward smile. “I do but it’s rather—"

“Tell me,” the King’s voice dropped even quieter. “What is it?”

“It’s…a fable. The Arrow,” but I’m not sure Your Majesty would enjoy it.”

“Why not?” He sounded almost offended.

I turned my head to look up at him. He was smiling, enjoying this back and forth.

“It’s a children’s tale, Your Majesty,” I lied. That was not the reason.

“And yet,” his words were slow, “It’s your favourite. You must have read several books since then, and still, it remains the closest to your heart.”

“That’s true but…I fear I may raise your expectations too much, Your Majesty.” I laughed unsteadily again.

“You could never fail to meet the expectations I have of you, Princess.”

At this comment, my hand unconsciously stiffened up and tightened around his, which I realised, in a state of panic, only seemed to appear as some sort of whimsical and pathetic longing for his compliments.

But the King only returned the tightening of my hands with a soft squeeze of his own as he replied, “Not that you should seek to meet them.”

“Isn’t that what we’re here for, Your Majesty?” I raised my eyes at him confidently.

“Officially,”

Only that wasn’t what I was here for.

“And unofficially?” I dared to ask.

“Unofficially, it is the sovereign who must hope to win over their chosen one. The candidate cannot refuse in name, but they can in heart.”

I chuckled at his statement. “Your Majesty, I do not think that is something you need trouble yourself with. At least half of the candidates are already…”

I stopped speaking as I realised the ease at which I had slipped into more casual conversation.

The King and I spun around, weaving between other couples, our steps light and sure, unlike my words.

“Already?” the King urged me to finish.

“Devoted to you, Your Majesty.” I flattened the tone of my voice, trying to resume the formal demeanour, which was slipping from my grasp the longer we danced.

“Are you one of those?” The King’s lip curved upwards, and his eyes searched my face.

I blinked several times before answering. “I admire you but I…” I hesitated.

The King’s smile began to show his teeth. “That is good.”

“Your Majesty?”

The King dipped my back during a portion of the dance.

“I can’t win over a heart that’s already been given,” he whispered.

I rose back up.

“But you could take one of those so easily,” I answered, softly.

I do not know what part of me was lured into his words, was always tempted by the desire to counter, and challenge them, but it was awakened now, it was alive, as it had been each time we had spoken.

“I do not wish to take it…but to earn it,” the King said earnestly and quietly, as he looked into my eyes.

The dance ended, yet we were still locked in a hold.

The musicians began to prepare for the next dance, shuffling parchment on their stands. Some couples left the floor and others joined, but the King and I still hadn’t moved. His fingers sprawled out across the small of my back.

They dropped in an instant as the crowd went quiet.

As the doors to the hall opened.

Unlike the doors to the throne room, and to many others in the Palace, these were located high above the ground, with several stairs leading down to the bottom, lined with gold and crimson carpets that shimmered in the light.

Beaming as brightly as that gold, and walking through those doors alone.

Was Nathon.