I open my eyes, breathing shallowly. My heart is beating quickly, heat blooming in my chest and cheeks. Altair has been on my mind too much lately. I think of him during the day as I study spells and potions, and I visit him at night. I’ve even slept in his room, in the chair beside his bed.
I bite my lip, smearing the lipstick. I can’t do this. I’m engaged still. Even if I don’t want to be. Even if I never loved Henry at all, I still couldn’t allow myself even the slightest chance of betraying him. And these feelings, the attraction I feel for Altair, are very real. Very real and very tempting. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
There’s a soft knock at the door, and Navi enters. She’s dressed in her typical clothes; trousers and a leather cuirass. But the cuirass is embroidered with golden threads. Despite her casual wear, she looks stunning. Her green eyes never shift from my face. Music and laughter float through the open door, the only indication of the ball.
“Are you ready?” She asks.
I nod. “What can I expect? I’ve never been to a Fae ball. Or a ball at all.”
She leads me down the hall towards the main staircase, her boots clipping against the stone floor. “Members of Altair’s court will be in attendance, treat them with respect. You may find resistance to your presence from some but ignore it.”
“Resistance?” I frown. “Why?”
“You’re mortal,” she says simply.
I exhale sharply through my nose. “With thousands of years to contemplate existence I wouldn’t have expected to find bigotry among the Fae.”
“With thousands of years of watching you mortals destroy yourselves and everything around you, you mean,” Navi says, eyeing me.
“That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.” I narrow my eyes.
At the bottom of the stairs, she halts. I turn, brows furrowed with confusion. But she simply tilts her chin towards something behind me. “Verity.” Altair’s silky voice rings out behind me.
My cheeks heat at the sound. I can feel his presence behind me, as if the molecules between us are quaking. I face him and take him in. He’s dressed in well-fitting trousers, tucked into shining leather boots. His jacket is buttoned completely, black and embroidered in gold threads. His black hair is combed back, coifed attractively, and he’s shaved off the ghost of a beard he grew during his week of bedrest.
“You look lovely,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.
I run my fingers along my skirts. “Thank you for the dress.”
He holds a hand out, standing stiffly. “Shall we?”
I wrap my fingers around his and let him lead me to the grand doors of the ballroom. I take a deep breath, excitement and nerves sparking in my chest. “Navi told me not to embarrass you,” I say.
“A well-intended request.” He smirks. “But you’ll find I’m not easily embarrassed.”
The servants at the doors drag them open and then we’re awash in golden light from the crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling. The music fades softly and Altair steps forward, tugging me along with him. I bite my lip nervously as we enter the ballroom and suddenly hundreds of pairs of eyes are on us.
“Your King!” A servant beside the door bellows.
The rustling of skirts and jackets is thunderous as the Fae sweep into curtsies and bows. My eyes widen at the number of beautiful, lithe beings in the room. Dressed in gowns of rich hues and bright colors, all the Fae women could have graced the cover of Vogue. Altair leads me further into the room, I blanch inwardly as all of their eyes rake over me.
The Fae tower over my petite frame, their intelligent eyes glistening predatorily. I shrink closer to Altair instinctively and his hand slips away from mine to wrap around my waist. He bends low over my ear. “I hope you know how to dance,” he breathes.
A pleasant shiver runs along my spine as his breath wafts over my ear and neck. “Right now?” I ask, my panicked eyes darting across the faces in the crowd.
“Right now,” he confirms, spinning me towards him.
He takes my hand, sweeping me into his arms deftly. I catch myself before I stumble and try to relax into his grip. I took a few dancing lessons before the wedding. Henry wanted to dance properly during the reception, but I never practiced much. Now I’m wishing I had.
I swallow with some difficulty as the music swells. With a sly grin, Altair slides easily into the waltz, leading me gracefully across the dance floor. I hold my breath, focusing on keeping my feet moving in time with his. His eyes glitter as he watches me, lips twisted in amusement.
“You look as frightened as a rabbit,” he murmurs.
“I feel like it.” I grip his hand a little tighter, my knuckles whitening.
“You don’t have to hold so tightly, I won’t let you go,” he says softly.
I look away from the crowd and meet his gaze. It’s soft now, gentle even. My heart drums unsteadily in my chest. “I’m not a very good dancer.”
After a moment his eyes take on the familiar cold, clever gleam. “It’s disappointing really. You have the petite frame of a dancer.”
“Imagine how I must feel,” I mutter, too nervous to play his games.
“Get ready,” he whispers.
I look at him, alarmed. “For what?”
Suddenly, as the music swells to its finale, Altair sends me into a far-reaching spin. He draws me back to him, and when I reach him, my back is pressed against his chest. We sway for an instant before he gives me a final twirl and dips me dramatically. My hands are slick with sweat, eyes filled with anger and fear. Altair’s face hovers over my own, his hazel eyes darting between my eyes and lips.
He grins roguishly and pulls me back up. I scowl, but
