The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,51

dark brown eyes.

Lyana didn’t spare a glance toward the House of Whispers, even as Lysander’s burning gaze darted in her direction, almost like a touch she could sense without looking.

Two can play at that game, she thought, pointedly keeping her face turned forward. Princess Lyana Aethionus chased after no man. After all, why would she when it would be oh, so easy to get him to chase after her?

21

Rafe

Rafe shook his head a little, trying to clear his mind as the princess before him spoke about something—what, he wasn’t exactly sure, but something.

Focus.

Think about Xander.

This is for him.

Not for you.

For him.

Still, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from shifting and his frown from deepening as his eyes landed on the ivory-draped princess on the other side of the ballroom, her clothes so bright in the firelight they may as well have been a beacon, her laughter so loud he could hardly hear the girl next to him. Three of the princes surrounded the dove as she held court, asking question after question, smile growing wider as she continued sipping on hummingbird nectar. His fingers balled into fists when he watched her reach out and squeeze the arms of the smug purple-winged jerk who kept flashing his dimples as though they were some sort of prized possession.

“Do you read much?”

“Huh?” Rafe mumbled, snapping his attention to the princess standing right by his side and away from the one on the other side of the room. His companion was one of the few princesses who had bothered trying to know him, the raven prince. For Xander’s sake, he needed to get this right. All through dinner he’d been doing the math—there were five crown princes and four second daughters, which meant one crown prince would be left unmated. A simple numbers game. And he couldn’t fail his people. He couldn’t leave Xander without a queen. He couldn’t fail his brother. “Oh, yes, I love to read.”

At least, if he were truly Xander, that would be his response.

The princess lit up. “Oh, what sort of topics are your favorites?”

Coralee was her name. Coralee. He fought to keep that at the forefront of his thoughts, because a girl like this would be perfect for his brother. The Princess of the House of Wisdom was kind and sophisticated. Like all the owls, she’d spent her life tending to the books in the great libraries of legend, studying politics and history. She was someone Xander would speak to for hours on end. Yet here he was, sounding like a blithering idiot, unable to recall a single title of any of the books he’d been forced to read as a child.

Rafe gritted his teeth as the chiming laughter of another princess filled the ballroom once more. Coralee waited patiently.

“Um,” he grunted. “Everything. Anything. How about you?”

Before she could answer, a strain of music made the room fall silent. The next dance was about to begin. Coralee eyed him hopefully, but Rafe just wasn’t sure he could bear another round. He’d danced with her once, and with the other two princesses he’d considered possible matches for his brother—Iris, the Princess of the House of Paradise, who had put his moves to shame as she twirled around him in graceful circles, turning his already grumpy mood even more sour; and Elodie, the Princess of the House of Song, about whom he could regrettably recall nothing, because Ana had been dancing with Damien, the arrogant hummingbird Rafe already loathed with a fiery passion. His mind had instead dwelt on the two of them for the entire time.

“Excuse me, I’m a bit thirsty,” Rafe muttered quickly, watching Coralee's face fall slightly as he stepped away. Before he even moved a few feet, one of the other princes who had been by Ana’s side swooped in with a bow, offering her his hand.

Not Ana, he chastised as he walked toward the banquet table at the back of the room and grabbed a drink. Lyana. Princess Lyana. Princess Liar, more like it.

“What are you doing?” Queen Mariam asked under her breath, making Rafe start.

His instinct to flee only grew as he turned to meet her raging violet eyes. “What do you mean? I’m getting a drink, and I’m mingling.”

“First the stunt with the dove, and now you’re turning your back on a princess who clearly wanted to dance with you?” she whispered over the edge of her glass, her voice a silent arrow striking him right in the heart. A smile, sharp as ever,