The next morning's court was colder than winter stone. Every glance, every whisper seemed sharper, as though the walls themselves had grown ears overnight. Liora's pulse refused to settle. She had barely slept, haunted by the prince's gaze and the blade that had almost struck her last night.
The steward's warning echoed in her mind: Composure… the court will adore you.
But how could composure mask a heart on fire?
...
Kael stood by the council dais, speaking in measured tones about trade and border disputes. His voice carried calm authority, but whenever his eyes swept the hall, they paused briefly on her. Liora felt the weight of that glance pierce her skin like an invisible blade.
Does he remember? Does he know?
Her fingers curled tightly around the scroll she held, knuckles pale.
...
During the afternoon's formal dance—a ritual arranged by the royal household to showcase alliances—the court glittered with silk and gold. Musicians played lilting melodies, and nobles paired off for carefully choreographed steps. Liora, though new, was guided by attendants who praised her poise.
But Kael's eyes followed her.
When the steward announced the prince's choice for the next dance, Liora's breath stopped.
"Lady Liora."
A hush rippled through the hall.
For a heartbeat, she thought she might flee. But the world narrowed—one step forward, one breath—and she was in motion.
...
As they moved in slow rhythm, their bodies nearly touching, Liora could feel the prince's controlled restraint. His hand barely grazed hers, but the heat of it surged through her veins like wildfire.
"Your steps are careful," he murmured without looking at her.
"And yours… are practiced," she whispered back.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, but his eyes remained unreadable.
..
The music slowed, then quickened again, and their eyes locked once more. Kael's breath seemed shallower. For the briefest instant, his hand tightened—then released.
"Careful, milady," he said softly.
Her heart raced. Was it warning? Concern? Desire?
....
The dance ended, but the silence between them lingered like a chord that refused to resolve.
Before she could retreat, Kael's lips curved slightly.
"You handle yourself better than expected," he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.
Her cheeks flamed.