Lila had been in another ballroom, the night of the Masquerade—the Gold Hall—and it was impressive, with its stonework and metal. This had all of the splendor, the opulence, and then something more. Dozens of chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling several stories up and lit the space with refracted candlelight. Columns rose from the oak floor, adorned with spiral staircases that broke off onto walkways and led to galleries and alcoves set into the walls overhead.
In the center of the ballroom, raised on a dais, a quartet of musicians played. Their instruments varied, but they were all made from polished wood and strung with golden wire, and the players themselves were brushed with gold. They stood perfectly still, save for only the most necessary movements of their fingers.
What had Jinnar said about Prince Rhy? A flair for drama.
Lila scanned the cavernous ballroom, and caught sight of the prince moving between tables on the opposite side of the hall. There, by the balcony doors, she saw Alucard, bowing to a lovely Faroan in purple silk. Flirt.
She skirted the room, wondering how long it would take her to spot Kell in such a crowd. But within moments, she saw him, not on the dance floor or mingling among the tables, but overhead. He stood alone on one of the lower balconies, his lanky form draped over the rail. His tousled auburn hair glinted beneath the chandeliers, and he rolled a glass between his palms, seeming troubled. From this angle, she couldn’t see his eyes, but she imagined she could see the crease between them.
He looked as though he were looking for someone.
And Lila had a feeling that someone was her.
She retreated into the safety of the column’s shadow, and for a few moments, she watched Kell watch the crowd. But she hadn’t put on a dress for the sake of wearing it, so she finally finished her drink, set the empty glass on the nearest table, and stepped out into the light.
As she did, a girl appeared at Kell’s side. The princess from Vesk. Her hand touched Kell’s shoulder, and Lila frowned. Was she even old enough to flirt like that? Christ, she looked like a child. Slim but round-faced, pretty but dimpled—soft—with a wreath of wood and silver atop her straw-blond braid.
Kell gave the princess a look, but he didn’t recoil from the touch, and she must have taken his stillness as an invitation, because she slipped her arm through his, and rested her head against his shoulder. Lila found her fingers itching for a knife, but then to her surprise, Kell’s gaze drifted past the girl, down to the ballroom, and landed on her.
Kell tensed visibly.
So did Lila.
She watched as he said something to the princess and drew his arm free. The girl looked put out, but he didn’t give her a second glance—didn’t take his gaze from Lila—as he descended the stairs and came toward her, eyes dark, fists clenched at his side.
He opened his mouth, and Lila braced herself for an attack. But instead of yelling, Kell exhaled, held out his hand, and said, “Dance with me.”
It wasn’t a question. It was barely a request.
“I don’t know how to dance,” she said.
“I do,” he said simply, as if the act didn’t require two. But he was standing there, waiting, and eyes were beginning to turn their way, so she took his hand, and let him lead her out onto the shadowed edge of the ballroom floor. When the music kicked up, Kell’s fingers tightened around hers, his other hand found her waist, and they began to move; well, Kell began to move, and Lila moved with him, forcing herself to follow his lead, to trust in it.
She hadn’t been this close to him in months. Her skin hummed where he touched her. Was that normal? If magic coursed through everyone and everything, was this what it felt like when it found itself again?
They danced in silence for several long moments, spinning together and apart, a slower version of their cadence in the ring. And then, out of nowhere, Lila asked, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you ask me to dance?”
He almost smiled. A ghost. A trick of the light. “So you couldn’t run away again before I said hello.”
“Hello,” said Lila.
“Hello,” said Kell. “Where have you been?”
Lila smirked. “Why, did you miss me?”
Kell opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again before finally managing to answer, “Yes.”
The word was low, and the sincerity caught her off guard. A blow beneath her ribs. “What,” she fumbled, “the life of a royal no longer to your tastes?” But the truth was, she’d missed him, too. Missed his stubbornness and his moods and his constant frown. Missed his eyes, one crisp blue, the other glossy black.
“You look …” he started, then trailed off.
“Ridiculous?”
“Incredible.”
Lila frowned. “You don’t,” she said, seeing the shadows under his eyes, the sadness in them. “What’s wrong, Kell?”
He tensed slightly, but he didn’t let go. He took a breath, as if formulating a lie, but when he exhaled, the truth came out. “Ever since that night, I haven’t felt … I thought competing would help, but it only made it worse. I feel like I’m suffocating. I know you think it’s madness, that I have everything I need, but I watched a king wither and die inside a castle.” He looked down, as if he could see the problem through his shirt. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“Life,” she said, as they spun around the floor. “And death.”