She looked at the marble floor, her chest tight. “You needn’t be so cruel.”
“Cruel? Celaena, Perrington is just over there. I’m sure he’s not happy about you being here, so I wouldn’t risk drawing his attention any more than necessary.”
“Coward.”
Chaol’s eyes softened. “If he weren’t here, I would have said yes.”
“I can easily arrange that, you know.”
He shook his head as he adjusted the lapel on his black tunic. Just then Dorian waltzed by, sweeping the brunette with him. He didn’t even glance at her.
“Anyway,” Chaol added, jerking his chin at Dorian, “I think you have far more attractive suitors vying for your attention. I’m boring company to keep.”
“I don’t mind being here with you.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” Chaol said dryly, though he met her stare.
“I mean it. Why aren’t you dancing with anyone? Aren’t there ladies whom you like?”
“I’m the Captain of the Guard—I’m not exactly a catch for any of them.” There was some sorrow in his eyes, though it was well concealed.
“Are you mad? You’re better than everyone in here. And you’re—you’re very handsome,” she said, taking his hand in her free one. There was beauty in Chaol’s face—and strength, and honor, and loyalty. She stopped hearing the crowd, and her mouth became dry as he stared at her. How had she missed it for so long?
“You think so?” he said after a moment, looking at their clasped hands.
She tightened her grasp. “Why, if I wasn’t—”
“Why aren’t you two dancing?”
Chaol dropped her hand. She had difficulty turning away from him. “And with whom would I dance, Your Highness?”
Dorian was alarmingly handsome in his pewter tunic. One might say it matched her dress. “You look radiant,” he said. “And you look radiant as well, Chaol.” He winked at his friend. Then Dorian’s gaze met hers, and Celaena’s blood turned into shooting stars. “Well? Do I need to lecture you about how stupid it was to sneak into the ball, or can I just ask you to dance with me instead?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Chaol said.
“Why?” they asked in unison. Dorian stepped a little closer to her. Even though she was ashamed of herself for believing such awful things about Nehemia, knowing that Dorian and Chaol were safe made the misery worth it.
“Because it attracts too much attention, that’s why.” Celaena rolled her eyes, and Chaol glared at her. “Do I have to remind you who you are?”
“No. You remind me every day,” she retorted. His brown eyes darkened. What was the point in being nice to her if he was only going to insult her the next moment?
Dorian put a hand on her shoulder and gave Chaol a charming smile. “Relax, Chaol,” he said, and his hand slipped to rest on her back, his fingers grazing her bare skin. “Just take the night off.” Dorian turned her from the captain. “It’ll do you some good,” he said over his shoulder, though the merriness faded from his tone.
“I’m getting a drink,” muttered Chaol, and walked away. She watched the captain for a moment. It would be a miracle if he considered her a friend. Dorian caressed her back, and she looked at him. Her heart jumped into a gallop, and Chaol dissolved from her thoughts, like dew beneath the morning sun. She felt bad for forgetting him—but . . . but . . . Oh, she wanted Dorian, she couldn’t deny it. She wanted him.
“You look beautiful,” Dorian said quietly, running an eye over her in a way that made her ears burn. “I haven’t been able to stop staring at you.”
“Oh? And I thought you hadn’t even noticed me.”
“Chaol got there first when you arrived. And besides, I had to work up the nerve to approach you.” He grinned. “You’re very intimidating. Especially with the mask.”
“And I suppose it didn’t help that you had a line of ladies waiting to dance with you.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Her heart tightened, and she realized it wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for. What did she want from him?
He held out his hand, inclining his head. “Dance with me?”
Was there music playing? She’d forgotten. The world had shrunk into nothing, dissolved by the golden glow of candles. But there were her feet, and here was her arm, and her neck, and her mouth. She smiled and took his hand, still keeping one eye on the ball around them.
Chapter 39
He was lost—lost in a world of which he’d always dreamed. Her body was warm beneath his hand, and her fingers were soft around his. He spun her and led her about the floor, waltzing as smoothly as he could. She didn’t falter a single step, nor did she seem to care about the many angry female faces that watched as dance after dance passed and they didn’t switch partners.