were moving down my body and he did it very much without a curl in his lip. They came back to my face. “You look lovely, Ellie.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, wondering if that boy would take very long with my drink.
This was difficult and awkward and definitely impossible without a glass of sparkles.
I sensed True go alert, and when he did, I focused on him again to see he was looking over my shoulder.
At the exact same moment, my elbow was seized.
Yes.
It was seized.
What on…?
I started to turn my head to see who had a hold on me.
“True,” I heard growled.
I froze at the sound.
“Cassius,” True returned, his face going hard.
I then found myself being marched right back out of the room with that hand tight on my elbow.
Once in the hall, I looked up at the stony face of my intended.
I had the side not inked.
It was still fascinating.
However, I could not dwell on that considering I was being towed not of my volition down a hall.
How was this happening?
I opened my mouth to speak at the same time I was going to pull my arm from his grip.
However, it was also the time he turned us, opened a door, tugged me inside, closed the door (or more accurately, slammed it), and he did not carry on pulling me into the room.
He shoved me to the side, against the wall by the door, stepped in so I had no choice but to retreat—this being nowhere as my back hit the wall—and he pinned me in with his body and his hands to the wall on either side of me.
“Did that…did you…did that just—?” I stammered angrily to his throat.
But I stopped speaking when I lifted my eyes to his furious face.
“And now that I have you to myself, we shall talk,” he rumbled.
I was breathing heavily and wondering how appropriate it would be—during ceremonial events in royal palaces that marked historical happenings that were designed to save our continent and ally all nations—to attack my future husband.
The corset and long skirt would be hindrances.
But the strength of my determination to make a point would be an advantage.
I was deciding my strategy when his eyes dropped to my chest.
And suddenly, all manner of him changed.
Entirely.
His sky-blue eyes stared at my heaving cleavage and the anger blinked out of his expression as something else overtook it. That something else was so strong, it invaded the room. It felt like it seeped into my very skin. And I found it even more difficult to breathe in a manner that had nothing to do with my corset.
And his face was so very close, I could study his tattoos. The thick arches and curls and slashes and diamonds.
I knew of the Airenzian ink. How it told a story. How they used symbols of ancient runes to share tales of boon and loss, study and achievement, venture and defeat and victory.
It seemed in his life he had much story to tell.
And not even knowing what the symbols meant, I found all of it fascinating.
So fascinating, unconsciously, my hand was drifting up toward his face, and so deep in his study of my breasts was he, I’d almost touched his temple before he caught my movement and jerked his head away like my touch would burn.
My stomach dropped.
As did my hand.
At that moment, the door opened and we both looked that way.
Serena strolled in wearing her long purple tunic (though, unlike Mother’s, the side slashes went up to her hips) that had coral beading across the neckline.
She shut the door behind her.
“Commendable, Cassius,” she purred. “The pin-to-the-wall maneuver. Often quite effective, and apparently that’s proved true for you. You obviously don’t let grass grow.”
“This is a private discussion,” Cassius returned low.
It had been private.
But there had been little discussion.
“Oh, of course,” Serena replied, not leaving but instead coming farther into the room.
It was then Cassius did something curious.
He took his hands from the wall and turned to my sister, but did it close to my person with his back mostly to me like he was…
Protecting me.
A Nadirii.
How strange.
“Though I’m a big sister. It’s hard to get out of the habit,” she went on. “And how you manhandled her out of the room, I hope you forgive me if I felt the need to ascertain if she’s all right.”
First, there were very few situations where I could not make myself all right (though, to the truth, this one seemed to be one of them), and Serena knew