“Let’s dance, then,” he said, holding his hand out to her again.
She stood, her palm cool as she slipped it into his. She glanced at him, then at the room in front of them, where people had scattered off the dance floor. The musicians in back straightened in their chairs, bows poised across strings.
“I didn’t know we’d be the only ones,” she said as he led her to the center of the room.
“Regret this decision now?” he asked.
She bit her lip.
“You’ll be fine.” He grasped her right hand firmly in his left and placed his other on the center of her back. “I’m going backward and you’re coming forward first,” he said quietly. “Put your hand on my shoulder.”
Her gaze stayed steady with his as she followed his instructions. He hadn’t noticed that her dark eyes were flecked with gold, and now that he was close enough to see it, he didn’t want to look away.
The music started, and he took a step, putting light pressure on her back. She came with him, her skirt swishing around her feet.
“Side,” he said quietly. “Back, back.”
She took to the steps quickly, letting him push and tug her around the dance floor. He straightened their arms, bringing his body against hers for a brief moment.
“Spin,” he said, lifting their hands. She did a quick spin. When she placed her hand on his shoulder again, her eyes blazed with a fire that made him want to pull her closer.
He moved faster, quietly giving her some of the steps under his breath. He realized too late she was going the wrong way, and instead of letting her crash right into him, he tightened the arm around her waist and whisked her off the ground. He spun around, placing her on the ground again, and the people around them all clapped like it had been planned.
She gave him a grateful smile, her steps more confident as they continued dancing.
“I noticed you ignored my suggestion yesterday,” he said softly. “For the Union Battle.”
“I thought it might be a trap.”
“A trap?”
“Yes. Like part of the tradition was trying to steer me to the easy choice, to see if I took it.”
He laughed softly. “You’re not terribly trusting, are you?”
“No.”
He moved his hand from her back as he spun her, then returned it. He wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“It wasn’t a trap, then?” she asked.
“Of course not.” He stole a quick glance at his parents. “My father would be furious if he knew I helped you. It’s not allowed.”
“Oh.”
“You clearly didn’t need any help, though.”
“No.” Her fingers curled around his shoulder. “Thank you, though.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked down at her to find her lips slowly curving up. It was the first genuine smile he’d seen from her, and by far his favorite. That smile held secrets he desperately wanted to know.
She nodded at the musicians, and then the crowd as the song ended. They burst into applause, his mother beaming as she stood and clapped.
Cas offered Mary his arm, and she took it. A piece of hair had fallen loose and brushed against her shoulder, and he was struck by the sudden urge to push it behind her ear.
She cocked her head, her gaze on something in front of them. She took in a sharp breath.
Cas turned just in time to see the blade as it sank into his flesh.
SIX
EM’S FIRST THOUGHT was What luck!
This man with a sword was going to kill Prince Casimir, and she didn’t have to do a thing but stand there and watch. She wouldn’t even have to worry about the wedding night.
Her second thought, however, was for her plan. If Cas died, she would be sent back to Vallos, and Jovita would be named as the next heir. She would accomplish nothing if Cas died tonight.
The man pulled his sword out of Cas’s left shoulder as screams ripped through the ballroom. Cas stumbled backward, his arm slipping out of hers. The man aimed his sword straight for Cas’s heart. The prince was unarmed and blinking as if in a daze, blood dripping from his fingertips. He clearly wasn’t used to being attacked.
The situation was this: one man with a sword, at least twenty members of the guard already running toward them, and—most importantly—her. Easy.
Em lunged for the man. She was plenty used to being attacked. This felt like home.
She launched her foot into the man’s knee seconds before his blade could find its mark. He stumbled, his sword lurching to the side and missing Cas entirely. He spun toward her and she slammed her fist into his face, using her other hand to wrench the sword out of his hand.
He dove for her, but three members of the guard were behind him suddenly, pulling him back. Aren was one of them, and he gave Em a wide-eyed look that was either approval or confusion.
“Cas! Cas!” the queen screeched as she flew past Em. Cas was on his knees, his hand to his shoulder. His gray coat hid most of the blood, but a small pool had collected on the floor as it dripped down his arm. He’d gone pale.