The Duke looked like he was gearing up to say something when the Crown Prince cut in."Don't worry. Even if you have an injured ankle, you can dance with me. I'll carry you throughout the whole dance."
What!?The Southern Crown Prince, who's currently wearing the most devastatingly handsome black uniform that matches his stormy grey eyes...
I subtly shake my head and snap out of it.Focus.He never flirts with anyone, and now he's offering to carry me?
"I'm sorry, but I'm not a doll, Your Royal Highness."
A flicker of anger crosses his face—but it's gone just as quickly.Good. He should know that showing emotion on this battlefield leads to trouble.
"Whoever called you a doll? I was merely trying to give us an opportunity to dance."
The Duke looks thoroughly annoyed now—there's absolutely no space left for him to wedge himself back into the conversation.This time, he can't even barge in.Too many eyes are watching.If he tries anything, nothing good will happen… to him.
But it's the same for me.Too many eyes.Too much attention.
If I say no, it'll seem suspicious.After all, I did just call him pretty. And maybe—just maybe—I flirted a tiny bit to blend in.
"Fine, Your Royal Highness, I accept. But please be careful. I wouldn't want to agitate my ankle and end up unable to dance for a few weeks... instead of just a day."(Southern Crown Prince, please agitate my ankle. Make my life easier.)"But after this one dance, I won't be dancing anymore. I have to rest."
Then I'll finally get to sit in the lounge and dig into this whole Blood Rose mess.
And I'll keep an ear out for when the Southern Imperial Commander arrives.I've heard this is just the first of several banquets.She has to make an appearance at one.
The Crown Prince takes my hand and leads me onto the dance floor, leaving the Duke behind—swallowed by a sea of fawning nobles.
We begin to dance. Slowly. Carefully.I lean most of my weight onto him—both to sell the ankle injury and to see just how annoyed I can make him by being this clingy.
Normally, even if someone offered, you wouldn't lean on them like this.Not out of manners.And especially not if that someone is the Crown Prince of an empire that just so happens to be your enemy.
"I hope I'm not agitating your ankle too much."I crane my neck to look up at him—just in time to catch a slow, smug smirk creeping onto his face."Or your neck."
I am not short.He's just too tall.Taller than most people here.
"Don't worry, Your Royal Highness. It's not your fault you just happen to be the size of a giant."
Honestly?If he weren't so annoyingly beautiful, I'd have no problem believing he was a giant.
"Ha. Well, if I'm a giant, I suppose that makes you a squirrel, then. Yes?"
Ugh. Of course he won't let anyone—besides himself—have the upper hand.
Calm down.It's fine. It's just one dance. Then I won't have to see his—I can't even think it.I literally can't even think he looks horr—Nope.Wow.My own head's turning on me.