I sheepishly bowed, then made my way to Mother, looking back halfway to see Silas’s eyes on mine while he danced with the girl. It shouldn’t anger me; I knew he didn’t want it either. But I hated seeing another in his arms.
I reached Mother, who was still talking to the Queen.
“Lena,” Ryia greeted me. “So nice to see you again.”
“The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty.” Mother handed me champagne, to my surprise. I accepted the glass and took a sip, the beverage light and crisp.
“I see you and Silas were enjoying yourselves.” The corner of Mother's lip turned upwards at the Queen's words. I gave an awkward smile, gulping down more of my drink, and Ryia chuckled softly. “I know this isn’t easy for either of you. But I’m happy you could be here today.” She nodded to my mother, then strolled off.
I went to speak with Mother when my friend caught my eye. Torrin Brighthell was standing guard by one of the dessert tables.
I smirked. Indeed, talking to the Prince would be suspicious, but what about a guard? Torrin looked so bored, and without Silas’ company, I would be too. Or just jealous. Regardless, a distraction was needed.
I finished my glass and strutted over to Torrin, who was trying and failing at avoiding eye contact. When I made it to his side, he frowned at me.
“What are you doing?” he asked in an unpleasant tone. I put my hands on my hips, but before I could respond, he hissed again. “Ladies of the Center do not make gestures like that.”
I scowled as my hands slacked to my sides, and I resisted the urge to give him my middle finger. That would certainly not be Center-like behavior. “My apologies, Sir Torrin,” I crooned as I bowed. Torrin’s expression was now partially concealed amusement.
“We shouldn’t let people know we are connected in any way,” he said quietly.
I rolled my eyes. “The only people that matter already know I know you. Well—at least of you.” I said, then hesitated. “Will you dance with me?”
He blinked with bewilderment. “What?”
I resisted the urge to flush. I suppose my drink was making me bold. “Will a guard from the Queen’s royal service please honor me with a dance?”
Torrin's cheeks stained with color, and the Queen walked up next to me. Torrin straightened in response. “Go on, Torrin,” she said with a warm smile.
“But, Your Majesty, I—”
“You deserve some fun. Go now. We will be fine with one guard down.”
I gave her a nod of thanks as Torrin interlocked his arm with mine, leading me to the dance floor. When we got there, he gripped my waist, his other hand holding mine, and I rested my free hand on his shoulder.
I smiled at his nervous expression.
“Don’t dance much?” I asked.
A crease formed between his brows. “I ampositiveI am a better dancer than you.”
I didn’t doubt it. Still, I grinned. “Let’s see if you’re all talk.”
When the next song started, I was surprised to see that Torrin was actually an excellent dancer. He led me through a series of movements, and I tried not to trip over my feet as he twirled me.
“Trouble keeping up?” he mocked.
I stuck my tongue out at him, and he bit back a smile. He twirled me one last time, and as the lively music ended, his hand was on my hip, his other hand laced with mine once more.
He smirked and followed with a bow, and I curtseyed. To my surprise, he took my hand and kissed the top of it.
It was a formal gesture, but part of me felt like Torrin held that kiss a moment longer.
“Thank you for the dance,” he said smoothly, then raised a brow. “Though I think you’ll be needing some dance lessons in your future.”
I nudged his shoulder. “Rude,” I said, then smiled. “But, true.”
He coughed, then looked back at his area. “I should get back,” he said, his eyes meeting mine.
