Lorcan’s palm rested lightly on my back, startling me.
“I think so. Are you?” I grinned at his pained expression. He dressed up for the occasion in a dark-blue jacket not dissimilar to the one his sister wore, and light brown trousers.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said darkly.
“Oh, come on now. It’s good practice for you to be the center of attention.” That feels dishonest. I’m implying I’ll marry him, when nothing has changed.It’s a general statement,I tell myself, ignoring the flurry of butterflies in my stomach.
I patted his arm. “Go on. Think how I feel every holiday when I have to pretend I’m a goddess.”
“You are a goddess,” he said, kissing my cheek.
“Flatterer.”
Rya may be a small woman, but she has a big voice when she wants to get people’s attention.
“A year ago, we thought Lorcan was dead. We knew he had been taken to a secret location to recuperate from severe injuries sustained while defending Princess Zosia and Princess Raina of the Myseci.” Applause. I bowed acknowledgment, briefly meeting Lorcan’s eye. A warm flutter in my stomach. “After his near-miraculous recovery, my son turned South to fight the Skía-led invaders.” Applause; boos for the Skía.
“We lost many beloved villagers,” Rya continued. “Brave fighters fought valiantly to hold back the invasion until he could turn the tide. I am immensely proud of my son and beyond grateful for his return.”
More applause.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed a woman watching me. A visiting princess, no matter how she tries to blend in, is going to be a curiosity—but there was a vague hostility about her that caught my attention. She had dark brown hair and full lips. An even fuller bosom. Green eyes, like mine, but more emerald. She’s strikingly beautiful.
Her gaze slid away from me and to Lorcan, who’d taken over from his mother to say a few words. He’s so habitually quiet that I was surprised how well his voice carried when he wanted it to.
“You did well,” I complimented Lorcan when he returned to my side. “I don’t get to see you give very many speeches.”
“I suppose that will change soon.” He looked out over the crowd, sparing me a response. I didn’t want another fight, much less at his birthday celebration. “We’re to open the first dance.”
“At least this time I won’t be reprimanded for choosing you as my partner.” Lorcan looked at me askance. “The last Midwinter ball before the war. You were on duty. I tried to convince you to dance with me, toward the end. I was tipsy and tired and I exercised poor judgment. I was supposed to be choosing a husband, but you were the only one I wanted. My father had a fit.”
He frowned.
“I thought you were trying to get me into trouble.”
Shaking my head, I said, “One of your mixed-up memories. Ask—”
I broke off. There is no one to ask. Kenton and Cata were the only ones to witness it. I could be lying to him and there’s no way he could confirm it. “I guess I can’t corroborate my story. Everyone is dead.”
“I’ll take your word for it, Zosia.”
Trust, so easily given. I was humbled.
Lorcan took my hand and led me into the center of the empty dance floor. I’ve opened hundreds of dances in my lifetime, but that night I swear I felt every single gaze upon me. It was a country dance, fast and tricky. We got about three steps in before people started joining us on the floor, which was good because I only knew the steps from the castle version, and the local variety was a bit different. After one set, I bowed to Lorcan and then to the next partner. Knowing my actions will be scrutinized this evening, I have a plan.
“Will you do me the honor, sir?” I asked the man with one leg. His entire face lit up. His forehead is marked by a long scar from center to the edge of his eyebrow, though he tries to cover it by wearing his hair long and brushed forward. Not unlike Lorcan’s preferred style.
“I’d be delighted, Highness, if you don’t mind adapting the steps.”
“Not at all. Show me how it works.”
He did, and we moved to the edge of the dance floor. The man, whose name I never quite caught, was unexpectedly adept with his crutch and one working limb. After several minutes he released me and took up with one of the girls in a brightly-colored frock like the one I wore. I move on to the man with one eye. Then to the older gents.
Get the men dancing. Honor the veterans. Make my people happy, for once.
A pale shade of the happiness I felt on that boat while fleeing Trissau enveloped me. The first real joy I’ve felt since that moment.
I don’t trust it. But oh, how I needed to feel it.
