The Bound (Ascension #2)(55)

Cyrene searched out Avoca and Ahlvie but couldn’t seem to find them in the crowd. Maelia had just been asked to dance by Orden, and they were close to the King and Queen.

Cyrene let her eyes fall on Dean. Perhaps that was a better plan after all. If she could get the attention of Prince Dean, then maybe they could have an easier time in escaping all of this. She kept her sights on him as she prowled the room. He danced several dances with different simpering ladies-in-waiting, and she tried to find the best way to intercept him.

She was halfway across the room when Kael Dremylon materialized out of thin air.

“Will you do me the pleasure?”

Cyrene’s heart rate skyrocketed, and she reached for her mask to make sure it concealed her face. She covered the movement by pushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear and downcast her eyes. Thankfully, they were still the dull brown Avoca had changed them to.

Creator! Ceis’f was supposed to be here to intercede on her behalf. He was supposed to be watching Kael.

“I…I was just looking for my suitor actually,” she stammered.

“He will have to wait then.” Kael took her hand regardless and pulled her into the throng of dancers.

Cyrene stumbled over her steps on purpose. The last time she and Kael had danced together, she had decided he was the best partner she’d ever had. She needed to be less than spectacular at the present moment.

“You know, I do think red is your color,” he said. “It would be scandalous in my homeland, of course, but red is popular here.”

She tried not to let the shock register on her face. He could not possibly know it was her. Yet Edric had said the same thing when she arrived in red for the Presenting and her Affiliate ball.

Cyrene found her voice again and lowered it before speaking, “If it pleases you, my Lord.” She cringed at her own simper. But she had to do it.

She had to act like one of those idiotic ladies-in-waiting. If he didn’t notice her from her face, then he would certainly recognize her attitude.

His eyes roamed from her face to the clingy red silk dress she had chosen for the occasion.

“It pleases me.”

She didn’t dare hold back her blush, acting like a good little lady wanting to take home a prized Prince.

The dress itself was a blend between the Byern style Lady Cauthorn had created for her and the bulkier Aurum style. The skirt was full but had layer upon layer of sheer material. The bodice was a long-sleeved silk creation with rubies sewn into the fabric and the same sheer material fanning out along the scoop neckline.

The music started for the next dance, a variation on the Four Queens dance back home. Their bodies moved in sync to the simple steps, and her mind drifted off to the first time she had met Kael and when they had danced the Haenah de’Lorlah in perfect time.

“You dance very well, my lady.”

Creator! She had forgotten that she was supposed to dance poorly.

“Th-thank you, my Lord.”

He twirled her around in place, and then they interlocked arms to walk in a circle with the other participants. She tripped just twice and stepped on his foot for show. The dance was almost too common to dance at home, but she had seen it many times in the streets during the festival season.

“What troubles you?”

“My Lord?” she asked in confusion.

“All of the other ladies have talked my ear off during every dance, yet here you are, leaving me in silence.” He smirked playfully down at her.

“My apologies. Wh-what would you like us to speak about?”

“There you go again,” he said cheerfully.

Cyrene scrambled for what a lady-in-waiting would say to grasp the attention of the Prince of Byern. Likely none of the topics she would have spoken to him about. Even when they had first met, they had spoken of her educational pursuits and the advancement of the country more than frivolity.

“Do I distress you?” He turned her to face him and then walked her backward through the next series of steps.

“No, my Lord.”

Kael pulled her closer, so they were touching. “Then, I must just make you uncomfortable,” he breathed into her ear.

“Of course not, my Lord,” she whispered, struggling to keep her voice neutral. But her stomach was in her throat, and she felt like she was suffocating. She needed to get out of this situation.

Where is Ceis’f? Avoca? Ahlvie? Anyone to stop this.

“Please let me know if I am.”

“I doubt you could make me uncomfortable,” she whispered.

“That is good to hear,” he said with a touch of laughter to his voice. “I would hate to sustain another candelabra to the head.”

Cyrene gasped and then tried to cover it by coughing. “I don’t know what you mean.”

But she did. When she had been trying to flee Albion, Kael had intercepted her and in a desperate move, she had hit him on the head with a candelabra to get away.

“Oh, I think you do.”

His blue-gray eyes were twinkling in the candlelight. He had been toying with her! Kael knew.

She took a step away from him, and he made to follow.

“Mind if I cut in?” Dean asked.

Kael narrowed his eyes. “We have unfinished business.”

“Yes,” Cyrene said quickly to Dean.

“You mind?” he asked, ignoring Kael.