Estrella
Tess laughs and pats my arm. "Now, you've shown everyone the real abilities of Sundrop."
"The real abilities to stumble all over each other?" I smile.
"Excuse me," someone says behind me.
I don't know who I think I'm kidding. I recognize Anwen's voice instantly, and even if I didn't, Tess's smile freezes on her face in a way that means it can only be him. I turn slowly.
My breath catches. In Sundrop, he would stick out like a sore thumb, but amidst the dour colors of Dun's Crossing, Anwen's all-black outfit is striking. It makes his pale features seem so much paler, like he's something plucked from the pages of a storybook rather than a real man standing in front of me.
"I'm glad to see you've learned some manners," I say, praying he can't hear the slight breathlessness to my voice.
Tess's grip on my arm tightens.
"Don't get used to it." He smiles teasingly.
Who is this man, and what has he done with the monster I've been avoiding these last two days? I've watched him flit from one she-wolf to the next like a bee gathering pollen, but he's never used this charm on me before. My wolf pants. Perhaps it's the night, the heat, and excitement of the party, but she's starting to make some sense.
"Estrella and I were just discussing leaving," Tess blurts. "We need to powder our noses."
I pat her hand on my arm. "But I've realized my nose is adequately powdered already. You can go without me, Tess."
'Are you sure?' she asks. 'If I leave you alone, I doubt you'll be able to resist each other.'
'In a roomful of witnesses?' I raise an eyebrow at her. 'I believe I have more decorum than that, no matter what this bite does to my self-control.'
Tess sighs but walks away without another word. Anwen watches her leave, then turns back to me.
"So, you have been avoiding me."
"After the stunt in the hallway?" I shake my head and wish I'd brought a fan to hide my expression. "You should be honored I'm not running from you now."
"You have my sincerest apologies for that." He sounds earnest. "In honor of the new moon, I was hoping to mend bridges."
I look him up and down, grabbing onto my self-control for all I'm worth. "And by that, you mean...?"
He swallows. "I mean that you look beautiful. And I'd like to dance with you before the night ends."
Nothing about the mating mark burning on my shoulder. Nothing about the fights we keep having. Nothing about the night we already spent together. I'd be a fool if I thought Anwen was offering anything more than a dance.
But the compliment sparkles through me like no one else's words have tonight, lighting up parts of my body that have lain quiet since the Haze. Perhaps, if I go into this with my eyes open, one dance can't hurt.
I hold out my hand, palm down, like I've seen the women of Dun's Crossing do when a man offers them a dance. Anwen grins, takes it, and brushes a kiss across my knuckles. His touch is like a lightning strike, and I never want to stop feeling it. He leads me onto the dance floor as a new waltz begins.
He moves with practiced, liquid grace. Somehow, he manages to twist the hand he's holding without an ounce of awkwardness, so we're properly positioned at the soft right angle Mother taught me on the ship ride over. His other hand, he slips around my waist, pulling me just a hair closer than propriety calls for. I place my palm on his right shoulder, and he spins us into the dance.
"Tell me," he says, "about awore."
I blink. "You want to ask me about bread? Now?"
"There's a flower in it." His grip on my waist tightens slightly, just enough that I can feel it through the layers of my dress. "I have to know what it is."
"Sweetcress," I answer. "But why?"
He dips me low and whispers in my ear, "Because you smell just like it."
My heart leaps into my throat as he pulls me up again. "You taste like that drink."
He smiles. "Is that why you looked at me?"
"I thought you wanted this kept a secret." I glance around at the packed dance floor. "We aren't exactly in private."
His gaze dips from my face to my chest. "We could be."
My body warms. My mark hums for the first time in days, and my wolf nearly screams for me to accept his offer. Perhaps, if I go into this with my eyes open-
Someone taps on Anwen's shoulder, and we both look up. Father stands there with a genial smile on his face and hard eyes.
"Mind if I cut in?" he asks.
Anwen glances at me, as if for permission. I am too busy trying to reclaim control over my wolf and pull myself back from what almost just happened to communicate anything to him.
"Certainly, Your Highness." Anwen releases me and steps back with a small bow. "Your daughter is an exquisite dancer."
He's being kind. If my disastrous galliarde with Tess is anything to go by, our success on the dance floor was all due to Anwen's skill. But I can't say that with Father looking at me.
He offers Anwen a bow in return and steps into Anwen's place, holding me at the proper distance instead. Anwen melts into the crowd, and I struggle to quash disappointment I wish I didn't feel.
"I'm not surprised the prince sought you out," Father says. "You are particularly radiant this evening. You remind me of the portrait of my mother, in the east hall at home."
I smile. "You know that's my favorite one."
"Perhaps." He laughs. "Perhaps I'm merely honored to have such a wonderful daughter."
"Should I be worried?" I ask teasingly. "Usually, you only compliment me this much when there's a dull state dinner to attend."
"It does seem Dun's Crossing has mastered the not-so-dull state dinner at least." Father looks out over the crowd. "On the matter of the prince, though-"
"There's nothing between us," I say quickly. Pain lances through my mark.
"Of course." Father nods easily. "On the matter of men, then. Since we have now entered a world that has not always known the beautiful, smart young woman before me, I feel it bears saying that you should never accept anything less than worship."
"I'm sorry?" I frown up at him.
"You are the latest in a long, proud line, Estrella," he says. "If any young man does not fall at your feet, he's the fool. Do you understand?"
I meet his gaze and know that he knows. Hot shame washes through me, but he doesn't expect me to confess, not now. Father will wait until I'm ready, all while making the path ahead of me as easy as possible until I am.
"I love you," I say.
The song draws to a close. He smiles. "And I-"
Father lurches forward. Time seems to move in slow motion as we both look down.
A silver-tipped arrow juts out of his chest, at the center of a spreading red stain.