: Chapter 19

It must be nearly midnight, so who the Plagues is that?

I grip the handle of my dagger and slide it out from beneath my pillow, holding it loosely at my side as I pad across the floor. When I swing open the door, my eyes meet the pair of gray ones on the other side.

Kai’s gaze drops to the dagger in my hand before returning to my face, lingering on my bruised cheekbone and split lip that he so generously gave me in our fight this morning. My pride wouldn’t allow the Healers to tend to my injuries, and unsurprisingly, the prince seemed to have the same problem. Faint bruises have bloomed across his jaw, a reminder of each blow I landed.

“Do you plan on pressing that to my throat again?” Kai’s lips twitch upwards as he inclines his head toward the dagger clutched in my fist.

“Don’t tempt me,” I say, running my fingers across the smooth, flat edge of the blade. “Here for a rematch?”

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his slim, dark pants before crossing his ankles and leaning against the door frame. “Don’t tempt me.”

Ebony hair falls over his forehead, making his gray eyes pop against the inky waves. It’s clear he hasn’t shaved, leaving a shadow of stubble covering his sharp jaw, only emphasized by the darkening bruises I left there.

“What do you want, Azer?”

“Missed you too, Gray,” Kai says, casually picking something from his distractingly thin shirt. Then his gaze snaps to mine, his long lashes in total contrast with his light eyes. “I’m here for your lesson.”

I scoff. “I’m sorry, my what?”

“Your lesson.” He cocks his head to the side, amusingly puzzled. “You’re Psychic. Did you not sense this was coming?”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it,” I say, my tone a combination of irritation and confusion. “What are you talking—”

“So, you were really going to go to the ball and step all over my brother’s toes, then?” He huffs out a laugh. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“No, I wouldn’t step all over his toes. Maybe trip over my own but…” I trial off, watching his grin grow. His dimple mocks me, tempting me to use the dagger waiting patiently in my palm.

And then his words finally sink in.

“Dance lessons? That is why you’re here?” I let out a breathy laugh, thinking he must be joking.

“Took you long enough.” He pushes off the door frame, taking a step closer. “Come on, we don’t have all night.” Then he smirks. “Unless you want us to be out all night.”

I don’t budge. “Nope. No way. I don’t want or need your help.” I give him a mocking smile. “But it’s good to know that you are always so eager to offer it.”

I grab the edge of my door and begin shutting it on him when he wedges a shiny shoe into my room. He easily pries the door open, his strong arms pushing it back despite my best efforts. With his hand still flat on the wood, he leans in close enough to murmur, “Just like always, you’re too stubborn to admit that you need my help.”

“What I need is for you to get out of my room.” I’m smiling at him but it’s all teeth.

And yet, with every word that says otherwise, I know he’s right. I know I should take him up on his offer and practice to prevent making a fool out of myself beside the future king. But I don’t like that he can hold this over my head, don’t like that he would be helping me. Again.

“What you need and what you want are two very different things.” The scent of pine washes over me when he ducks his head close to mine, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Come on, Gray, you’re smarter than this. You know that you need to make a good impression at this ball. And next to my brother, there will be a lot more eyes on you than there already normally are.”

It’s like he read my thoughts, summed them up, and spit them back at me. I glare at him. I know he’s right, and he knows it too.

He must see the fight leave my eyes because a smile twists his lips. “Good to see you’ve come to your senses. Let’s go then.”

I brush past his shoulder with my head held high. I chose to do this, not him, and he needs to remember that. “Where are we going?” I ask as he begins leading me down the hallway. At the end of it, we climb a wide spiral staircase draped in velvet, emerald carpet.

The shadow of a smile settles on his face. “Somewhere with enough room for you to fall all over the place.”

When we reach the top of the stairs, I’m led down a wide hallway lined with paintings and pearly molding clinging to the walls and ceiling. My eyes sweep over the thin layer of dust covering the frames littering the wall.

It has been a while since anyone’s been up here.

This floor happens to be one of the few that I haven’t yet explored, seeing that I’ve crept out of my room multiple times in the dead of night to learn the layout of the castle and its possible exits. Call it my personality or paranoia, but being unaware of my surroundings scares me nearly as much as the Trials.

Since Lenny doesn’t guard my door, I can’t resist the urge to snoop. In fact, I don’t see my Imperial much at all, and surprisingly, the thought sends a sudden jolt of sadness through me. I’m shocked by how much I genuinely enjoy his company and even more shocked by the fact that I would think such things about an Imperial.

An uneven rug catches my foot, sending the floor flying towards my face. I’m about to sprawl onto the spiral-patterned rug when an arm slides around my middle, firm and feeling annoyingly familiar.

“There’s that clumsy footwork we’re trying to rid you of,” Kai says, the smirk evident in his voice. He sets me on my feet, steadying me with a hand that I push away, flustered and feeling the need to put some space between us.

He holds his hands up and takes a mocking step back before turning to head down the hall once again. As we continue walking, the question I’ve been waiting to ask finally slips past my lips. “Why are you doing this?”

Kai halts in front of me. He turns slowly, looking almost amused by the question. “It’s simple, really. You’re attending this ball with my brother, and he needs to look the best he is able.”

I study his face, stare as a sliver of his mask cracks, displaying all the love and devotion for his brother, all the lengths he is willing to go for him. It’s as if he has a duty to fulfill, as if he is already the Enforcer and this is far bigger than just stopping me from stepping on his brother’s toes.

And then his mask is suddenly back up, and I’m staring at that cool face once again, void of the emotion once there. When I can’t think of a retort, I begin walking instead. We make a right down a smaller corridor and head to the very last door on the left. He grips the handle and swings it open, revealing a bedroom beyond, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window.

If I thought my room was magnificent, it pales in comparison to this. It’s easily twice the size of my own, making it seem more like a house than a single bedroom. Though it’s filled with a four-poster bed, dresser, and a desk—just as mine is—this room seems lived in. The shelf is overflowing, books stacked at odd angles to make them fit. Several of their worn covers tell me they consist of strategy, combat, and…poetry.

Interesting.

Everything filling the room is nicer than my own, yet used and worn.

This is his room—his real room.

The desk is covered in dark ink stains, and suits of armor are piled in the corner. My eyes scan over the large slices covering the posts of the bed where chunks of dark wood are missing.

Sword slashes.

He’s taken a blunt sword the bedposts. Multiple times.

I suppose that is better than taking a sword to a human, though I’m sure he does that as well. My eyes finally flick back to Kai. He’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me curiously as I stand in the middle of his room, though I don’t remember walking so far into it.

I nod my head towards the chipped wooden posts of his massive bed, not knowing what to say under his stare. “Interesting way to relieve stress.”

“So is punching a pad till your fists bleed.” He gives me a faint smile as he strolls across the room to his desk, hands in pockets, before he begins fiddling with the contraption on top of it—one that I recognize.

Father had a record player, one with a wide golden horn I used to stick my head into as a child. He made decent money as the respected Healer in the slums, but the record player was still the nicest thing we owned. Years ago, he used to plop my feet on top of his so we could dance around the kitchen. Well, he would dance. I was just along for the ride. But he never got the chance to truly teach me how to dance without literally stepping on anyone’s feet.

The crackling of the needle hitting a record is familiar, though the sound of the smooth waltz that follows is not. Kai turns around, casually unbuttoning half his shirt and sending my eyes searching for anything to stare at other than his tanned chest and swirling tattoo.

And then he’s suddenly before me, surveying me from head to toe with a slight smile that displays the deeper dimple on his right cheek. His stare is like a caress, and he takes his time. I refuse to squirm under that piercing gaze, knowing how he would love to watch me fidget.

Not wanting to be outdone, I drag my eyes over his strong facial features and even stronger body beneath. Everything about him is lethal. That smile. Those eyes. That cunning mind of his.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to focus on dancing, or will I be too much of a distraction, darling?”

His words startle me, and my eyes shoot back to his. I huff. “I think I’ll manage, thanks.”

He gives me a doubtful look. “I guess we will find out, won’t we?” I expect him to reach out and pull me into a dance, and the thought has my heart pounding, has me preparing to feel his hands on my body.

But he doesn’t move, doesn’t try to close the distance between us.

Good.

“For now, you will start by just learning the steps to the average waltz,” he says. “Mostly because I don’t want you stomping on my toes.”

With his hands still in his pockets, Kai steps in and out, side to side, showing me the basics. He’s so graceful, so elegant, so natural.

Fighting. Fighting is also a dance to him.

I feel stiff and suddenly so unsure of myself. Even with his hands still in his pockets, Kai easily steps in time with me, though he doesn’t dare get close enough to be trampled by my clumsy footing.

I sigh, irritated with myself and the smirking prince in front of me.

“Relax,” Kai murmurs from across me with more than a hint of humor in his voice. “You’re thinking too much. Don’t calculate, just move with the music.” I look up to see him already staring at me with a grin. “Also, you do know this is a dance, correct? So, no fighting stance is necessary.”

Only then do I notice how tight and poised my body is, hands slightly raised as though readying to strike. I straighten and run a hand through the strands of hair falling out of my loose braid. I’m oddly…nervous. And it’s maddeningly annoying.

This would be a lot easier if he weren’t staring at me.

Another waltz ends, replaced by a slow, mellow tune. My head is lowered, pieces of hair falling into my face as I watch my feet step in time with the music.

A pressure at my waist makes me jump.

Like a reflex, my hand twitches towards the knife now sheathed under the folds of my dress, but a calloused hand catches my wrist. “Knives are also not necessary for dancing,” Kai says with a low laugh. Holding my gaze, his rough fingers slide slowly from my wrist to my palm before he folds his hand into mine, raising it into the air.

But it’s his other hand that holds my attention, the one that has settled comfortably against the small of my back. The one that is pulling me towards him. Through the thin fabric of the dress I threw on for dinner, I can feel the warmth of his palm seeping into my lower back.

I stare at him as he pulls me close. It’s not as if I didn’t know this was bound to happen, I just wasn’t expecting it so suddenly. He looks at me with an expectant expression before chuckling softly and sliding his hand from my back, making me feel suddenly cold in its absence. He grabs my other hand and lifts it to his shoulder, dropping my palm atop his thin shirt. I can feel every muscle shift beneath it as he returns his hand to my back, firmly flattening it against my dress.

“Let’s see what you learned,” he says softly as his feet begin moving in time with the music. I fumble to follow, managing to mirror my steps with his. He leads easily, confidently guiding me through the dance.

My eyes sweep across the room and down at my feet, counting with each step. The pressure on my back is suddenly gone when fingers catch my chin, tipping my head up. “You’ll never learn if you keep watching your feet, Gray. Eyes on me.” He smiles, returning his hand to my back. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

I roll my eyes at him, opening my mouth to make a remark only to ask a question instead. “How did you know Kitt asked me to the ball?”

Kai’s laugh is humorless, hollow. “I’m no Psychic, but it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.” When I only stare at him, he sighs and continues. “I know my brother, and because of that, I knew he would ask you.”

“That was a terrible answer,” I say simply.

“And you’re still a terrible dancer, so my work is far from finished.”

I snort.

“Oh,” Kai adds casually, “he may have also mentioned that he asked you.”

Another laugh escapes me before I can stop it, and I press my lips together to smother the sound. My eyes fall to his chest that is far too close, reminding me that we are far too close for competitors, for enemies in these Trials.

And yet, here I am, dancing with him in his bedroom. Alone. In the dark.

If it’s even possible, I’m suddenly more rigid than I was before.

Kai feels me stiffen in his hold and leans impossibly closer. “You’re as stiff as a board, Gray. Loosen up.”

Not. Helping.

I try and fail to melt into his embrace like a dance partner should. I’m hopeless. Hopelessly in over my head.

But the prince doesn’t give up so easily. No, he wraps his arm fully around my waist and tugs me to him. I drag my feet, not wanting to close the little distance left between us.

A maddening dimple peeks out at me, barely visible in the dim light. “So, what have we learned today?” he asks, annoyingly amused as ever. “One, daggers are not needed for dancing, and two, you actually have to be close to your partner during the dance. And shockingly, you seem to be struggling more with the latter.”

“Would you rather I struggle with the first and put a dagger to your throat?” I pause. “Again.”

“So very predictable.” he chuckles, the sound washing over me before he mutters, “Always so vicious and eager to stab me.”

He is very close to me. Too close to me.

And it’s because I’m so distracted by that fact that my foot lands on top of his, and I stumble forward to collide with his solid frame. Both of his hands wrap around my waist, steadying me before I regain my senses and push away from him. A deep laugh rumbles from his chest, paired with a genuine smile, one that I’ve only ever seen him wear around his brother.

Lethal.

“How can a fighter have such poor footwork?” His eyes dance between mine. “You are just full of surprises.”

“Well, surprise, I’m done with this lesson,” I say flatly, turning out of his grasp. My back is to him when he snatches my wrist and whips me around, pulling me back.

“But you still owe me one more dance.” His wavy hair tumbles over his brow, the look in his eyes practically begging me to play with him.

“Fine,” I say, playing along. “Another dance for the answer to a question.”

His eyebrows raise. “Is that a bribe, Gray?”

“Those are my terms. Take it or leave it, prince.” His only response is a low chuckle. He turns his head away from me, thinking before he finally meets my gaze.

Slowly, he raises my hand back into the air and rests his other hand comfortably onto the small of my back once again. “Deal.”

Another slow waltz begins, occupying me with the music and steps, drowning me in the dance. When I can’t seem to ignore the feel of his eyes watching me so intently, I finally meet his gaze.

“Alright, what is it you’re dying to know?” Kai asks, leading me through the dance.

I have no idea.

He looks at me, through me, waiting for an answer. His gray eyes are like chips of ice, shards of glass. Like both, his gaze is pointed and piercing. Cold yet captivating. Beautiful in the way only deadly things can be.

And just like that, I suddenly can’t think of a single thing I want to ask him. I rack my brain for a question only to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Do you wish it was you?” He blinks, dark lashes fluttering. “Do you wish you were the future king of Ilya? The heir?”

It’s not at all the question I thought I would be asking, but here we are.

“No,” he says simply, holding my gaze.

I raise my brows in a silent question. When he doesn’t continue, I say, “That’s it? ‘No’?”

“You got your answer, and I got my dance. That was the deal, darling.”

I can barely breathe.

Adena’s thin arms are wrapped so tightly around my neck that I’m beginning to see spots. She screamed and squealed when she spotted me waiting by the Fort.

My best friend. My literal partner in crime. Safe and sound. Beautiful and bubbly as ever.

Lenny arrived at my room early this morning, ready to take me into Loot and retrieve my new seamstress. Apparently, he had gotten approval to do so, though I was too excited to bother asking for details. I may have even squealed myself.

“I’m going to be your what?!” Adena squeaks.

I sigh, though it comes out sounding more like a laugh. “My personal seamstress.” I’ve filled her in on the details about three times now. “I mean, unless you don’t want the job…”

“Are you crazy?! Of course I want the job, Pae!” She’s practically skipping as we make our way to the coach waiting at the far end of Loot.

I survey the market and wide alley before me. My home looks just as dull and dreary as it did when I left it. I let the sound of curses and haggling, the scent of fish and spices wash over me. All familiar. All the same.

Lenny opens the door of the coach and both Adena and I settle in before we are rumbling up the uneven cobblestone street, heading for the palace.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Adena says, in awe as she looks out the tiny window. She turns back to me, taking in the casual dress Ellie forced me into with wide eyes. “I can’t believe this.” She looks from my face to the dress before snatching up the hem of the skirt and inspecting it.

“Don’t get used to…this.” I gesture to the dress. “I typically wear pants during the day, but Ellie insisted I wear a dress to make a good impression on the people who saw me at Loot.”

And there certainly were a lot of people. Despite how early it was, the marketplace was teeming with men, women, and children, all gawking at me as I passed.

I’m not sure what impression I made on them, but I certainly made one, nonetheless.

“It sounds like Ellie and I will get along perfectly,” Adena says, her smile bright.

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” I laugh before continuing, “And you will be paid, fed, and have a real bed to sleep in at night. I’m told there is a sewing room where you will spend most of your time, filled with every type of fabric you could ever dream of.”

Adena’s eyes go glossy at the thought. “Heaven. I’ll be in heaven.”

I fill her in on everything—the training, the interviews, the contestants. She does the same, telling me of her time in Loot while I’ve been gone.

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me!” Adena says with a laugh, dismissing the idea. “And now, here you are, taking me back with you!”

A wave of guilt slams into me, threatening to drown.

I swallow before opening my mouth to plead for forgiveness, to tell her I’m sorry, to—

“I could never forget about you, A.”

Never again.

She beams while my heart beats wildly against my chest. She’s so very good, and I am so very guilty. I’m weak for withholding the truth from her, but with each beat of my heart, I vow to never do it again.

“Oh, wait! Who are you going to the ball with?” Adena’s high-pitched question cuts through my confused thoughts.

Of course Adena would know that detail of the Trials, how we all have to pair up for the balls. She loves this sort of stuff. I run a hand through my hair, combing it out of my face. “Well…I’m going with Kitt.”

Adena blinks. And then she shrieks.

“Kitt? You mean, the heir?” She’s practically hyperventilating, fanning herself with her hands.

“It’s not a big deal, A. Except that I do need to look good,” I say, trying to calm her down.

“Well then you came to the right girl,” she says confidently. “Wow, okay, you have to look really good then.” She swipes at the curly bangs falling into her eyes. “Well, there are several beautiful shades of green we could choose from. We could put you in an emerald, or a sage—”

I hold a hand up, a smile curving my lips. “Actually, I have a different color in mind.”