Rhen ignores them, his eyes finding mine. He steps forward to take my hand and kiss my knuckles, but I can’t read anything in his expression. “Forgive me,” he says, using my hand to draw me close. His voice is warm and low in a way I haven’t heard in … a while. “I did not realize I would be so delayed.”
I swallow. “Forgiven.”
He turns to face the people, keeping my hand wrapped in his. “The night is young. Perhaps we can spend an hour enjoying each other’s company before we begin arguing over politics?” He nods to the servants laying food along the tables. “Or at least wait until after the food is served. It would be a pity to waste this fine meal. Anscom, the valet in the corner is pouring sugared spirits. I remember how much you enjoyed a glass with my father.”
Marshal Perry of Silvermoon clears his throat. “Ah … yes. Of course, Your Highness.”
Rhen offers them a nod, then looks at me. “Shall we, my lady?”
Shall we what? But he rescued me, and he’s not being a jerk, so I nod. “Yes, certainly.”
He turns to walk, keeping me close, his pace slow and languorous.
I look up at him. “Where are we going?”
He draws me closer and leans down a bit, his lips brushing against my temple in a way that makes me blush and shiver because it’s so unexpected. I’d forgotten he could be like this. He hasn’t said a word about the dress, either.
Then he says, “To dance.”
I almost trip over my feet. “Wait. Rhen—”
“Shh.” He leads me onto the marble floor, and his hand closes on my waist.
We’re surrounded by dozens of people, many of whom just accused me of being a traitor. I hadn’t expected them to be like … that, and I definitely don’t want to dance in front of them like none of it bothered me. But I also don’t want to cause more of a scene than I already have.
“I hate to dance,” I whisper.
“I know.” Rhen turns to face me, and his hand finds mine. “I hate to be thrust into political maneuvering without preparation. Yet here we are.”
My mouth forms a line, but the song is slower now and I’m not as hopeless at this as I once was. I let him lead. “You’re mad.”
“Do I seem so?” he says affably.
“Uh-huh.”
“I thought I was hiding it rather admirably.” He pauses, and his eyes search mine. “Is your intent for us to be at odds here, my lady?”
I study him, trying to figure him out. There’s a part of me that’s happy he’s angry, that I’m not the only one battling resentment here. There’s a part of me that’s immeasurably sad, too. Like I could punch him in the face and then run off sobbing.
“If it is,” Rhen continues, “I wish you had come to me, instead of demonstrating it to all of Emberfall.”
I frown and look away. He might be able to look happy while all of this is going on, but I can’t do it. Music swirls through the room, and I remember that first night he taught me to dance on a cliff at Silvermoon. When I said to him, “I want to make sure it’s real.” He wanted it to be real, too—and for the longest time, I felt like it was.
But then I started to doubt myself. To doubt him.
When I say nothing, Rhen’s voice turns careful. “Were you displeased with the gown I had sent for you?” He pauses, his voice gaining the barest hint of an edge. “Or was the displeasure Zo’s?”
“It was mine,” I say. “If you’re pissed at me, don’t take it out on her.”
He looks a bit incredulous. “You believe I would?”
“I believe you’ll do whatever you want to do.”
His hand tightens on mine, and he turns me a little more sharply than necessary. “I have been more than fair to Zo.”
That’s probably true, and I glance away. “Fine.”
He’s quiet, but I can feel the tension in his body now. No one else has dared to enter the dance floor, so maybe they can sense it.
“I don’t want to be a pawn,” I say tightly. “That dress made me look like one.”
“I rather doubt it.”
He probably means it like a compliment, but it feels dismissive. “It made me feel like one.” I swallow, and my throat is tight. “So I asked Freya to find me another one.” He inhales, and I add, “Don’t take it out on her either.”
He doesn’t flinch from my gaze. “I have done nothing to your friends, my lady. And I would never hold them accountable for your actions.”
“Is that a threat?” I demand.
He blinks, startled. “What? No. I do not—”
“Because Grey spent his life doing everything you asked, and the first time he didn’t, you strung him up on that wall.”
He jerks back like I’ve slapped him. We’re not dancing anymore. There’s suddenly an icy distance between us. Music pours across the dance floor, but we’re motionless in the center of it. The crowd has gone silent, and there’s a weighted tension in the air.
I’m breathless, too.
I can’t believe I said that.
Until the words fell out of my mouth, I never admitted to myself that I felt that.
Rhen’s gaze could cut steel. So could mine, I’m sure.
Zo appears at my side. “My lady,” she says smoothly. “A matter requires your attention.”
My body feels like it’s turned to stone. Rhen hasn’t moved, and I can’t breathe. I probably could have slapped him and generated less interest.
Maybe he’s right—I should have talked to him privately. But I can’t undo what’s been done. I can’t unsay what’s been said.
I grab hold of my skirt and give him a curtsy. “Your Highness.”
Without waiting for a response, without even a backward glance, I stride out of the hall.
CHAPTER SIX
RHEN
I’d forgotten she could be like this.
Right now, I’m so angry that I want to tell Lilith to go to hell, that she can take Harper back to Washington, DC, and I’d be glad of it. I’m alone in the middle of the dance floor, and while our words weren’t loud enough to carry very far, there’s no disguising our argument as anything other than what it was. As piqued as I am with Zo, I am glad she took Harper away before we said anything else.
Dustan strides across the dance floor to stop in front of me. “My lord.”
He’s been my guard commander since Grey left. He’s strong and competent, and generally well liked. He was part of a private army in the west before I put out the call for more guardsmen, and he was one of the first to swear to me. Where Grey could be stoic and aloof, Dustan is more jovial, and he has a good rapport with the guards. He was an easy choice when I was desperate.
But while he’s good at doing what I say, sometimes I wish he were better at doing what I don’t.
Grey would have stopped Harper from entering the party without me.
Grey would have interceded before Zo did.
Grey would have—
I need to stop thinking about Grey. He’s gone. He’s my enemy.
You strung him up on the wall.
The words are like a dagger she plunged into my chest, and it’s hard to breathe around it. I wish Dustan had brought me a glass of sugared spirits. Grey probably wouldn’t have done that either—but he would’ve thought to tell a servant to do it.