as anyone was concerned.
A fire breather caught me off guard, the heat of his breath brushing past my cheek. Laughing, I stepped around him, giving him a wide berth, and became enthralled with the jugglers and acrobats. As beautiful and elegant as the royal wedding was, the celebration tonight was far more wild and up-tempo in an attempt to impress the emissaries’ tastes from Florin. Clapping to the beat from the musicians, I joined in a line of women, and we weaved in among the dancers. Creating bridges with our hands, I smiled and pirouetted under them. My skirts swirling, my laughter filling the air, my joy was immeasurable as I counted this as the happiest day of my life. Who knew all it took for me to find happiness was for the country’s enemy to come pounding on their door?
No one in this room knew me as a daughter of Eville and a person to be feared. Here, I was nameless, one of them, and I belonged. Oh, how I’d always wanted to belong.
The music came to a halt and the crowd parted as Prince Xander strolled down the middle of the room toward me. His face was stony, and he seemed displeased with my presence.
Does he know it’s me—his wife? Did he find out I escaped my room? Or is he mad at me, the servant?
My hands covered my heart to stop its frantic thudding as I told myself to calm down.
The emissary stepped in front of him and bowed. “Prince Xander, I am Lord Earlsgaarde from Florin. It seems we have come at a most inopportune time. What we wish to discuss with you will wait until the morrow, but until then, will you honor us with a wedding dance?”
Xander’s face turned even darker, and he replied stiffly, “I fear I cannot.”
“Ah, are you hiding your new wife from us, then? I hear her beauty is that of legends,” Earlsgaarde teased, but I could hear the underlying challenge, knew he wanted to satisfy his curiosity and see which daughter the prince was married to.
“It is?” Xander said, obviously surprised, but then regained his composure. “As I said, I cannot, for my wife,” he said with derision, “has taken ill.”
“That’s too bad,” the emissary muttered, then brightened up. “Then choose a lady as proxy for her, and we will dance and toast to her quick recovery.”
Xander turned to walk away, but he caught my eye, and a cruel smile crept up into his lips. Then he nodded and turned back to the crowd. “Very well, I will celebrate my union by dancing with one of the ladies of the court.”
Squeals of laughter came from the crowd as a mob of women surged forward to present themselves as partners. That seemed to incite the multitude, and Gaven was briefly pushed from my side. Xander stepped up onto the musician’s platform and looked out among the ladies—searching, I’d bet, for a particular petite blonde.
With the current of women and onlookers rushing forth, it created a gap around me, and I stood out in the room alone, with little competition. Except I saw Yasmin, a sparkling jewel among the crowd. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, her dress pressed and unwrinkled; she must have had her ladies ironing and styling since before lunch.
Yasmin was parting the ladies and making her way toward him, her smile a little too confident. My blood boiled.
No, this dance was rightfully mine, not hers. And I would take it.
I raised my chin, smiled coldly and sent a whisper of command his way. It wasn’t much of a persuasion, as that wasn’t my true gift, but it was enough to get his attention.
Look at me!
Xander’s head snapped up from the throng of women around him, and we made eye contact. I dared not smile. I was not inviting him to dance, or to choose me, only to acknowledge my beauty. For this time I was not in a servant’s dress, nor was he drunk. Though maybe he was—I saw Prince Xander inhale and stumble as he took a step backward and bumped into the flutist.
Did I hit him with the command too hard? Now I worried what I had done. Magic was not a trivial thing to be throwing about, especially when I was angry. And Earlsgaarde seemed to have been hit with the command as well, because his head snapped up in unison with Xander’s, and he was watching me with intense eyes.
Yasmin was almost to Xander,