Eryl takes my hand. “You may want to close your eyes,” he murmurs. “Transportation spells can make people sick the first time they experience them.”
“What?” I ask, not sure what he’s talking about.
“Do not worry.” He winks. “Not many are able to master this spell, but I am an expert.”
“What are you—” I start to ask, but then stop.
The world spins and I squeeze my eyes shut as strong wind whips around us. After a moment, everything stills, and I open my eyes to find Eryl staring down at me in concern. “Are you all right?”
“I… think so.” I blink several times as I scan our surroundings.
We’re standing in the palace courtyard overflowing with vibrant flowering plants with glowing blooms of purple, red, yellow and blue. Guards dressed in black uniforms trimmed with silver thread line the walkway and the steps into the castle.
The white stone walls appear both formidable and elegant in the same measure. With spiraling towers that stretch up toward the sky and silver capped rooftops, it’s easy to see this structure was built as much for aesthetics as it was for defense. The massive silver doors of the entrance are etched with a lovely pattern of swirling vines and roses.
Eryl leads me up the palace steps, my arm looped through his. Several women observe us curiously, some with daggers in their eyes directed at me.
I lean toward him. “It seems you have many admirers.”
He laughs. “Not as many as Ryvan.”
Eryl’s eyes flick to mine. “Father will no doubt try to pair him with someone this evening.”
I open my mouth to reply, but stop abruptly as someone approaches Eryl and asks for my name. At first, I worry that someone has seen through my disguise, but then I realize it is simply so they can announce us when we walk in.
Eryl guides me inside. I observe everything around me in awe as we walk onto a large balcony overlooking the ballroom below. The room’s silver finishes reflect the softly glowing lights of the chandeliers above, lending the entire space an ethereal beauty. At the bottom of the grand staircase, the massive ballroom sprawls, the decorative tile floor mimicking the silver doors with the vine-and-rose pattern.
Hauntingly beautiful music, played by stringed instruments, fills the air. Fae men and women dressed in elegant tunics and gowns spin across the room in a lovely display, some even taking flight as they dance and weave amongst one another.
Tables overflowing with fluted glasses filled with bubbling pink liquid and silver platters of food line either side of the room. Against the far wall stands a throne, seating a man I assume is the king, observing the festivities.
I blink several times when I notice Ryvan standing at his side.
I lean close to Eryl. “Is that—’
“Prince Eryl of Anara and Lady Ella,” the announcer calls as we stand at the top of the grand staircase.
My mind takes a moment to process what he said. “Prince? You’re the prince?”
Eryl hesitates. “Ella, I meant to tell you, but—”
My mouth drifts open. “That means that Ryvan is—”
“Heir to the throne,” he finishes my sentence.
Shock fills me, followed quickly by anger. “Why did he not tell me?”
“Ella, he—”
I draw in a deep and steeling breath. “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him, forcing a fake smile to my face because people are watching us.
Matching my pace, Eryl smiles back at me and leads me onto the dance floor. I’m all feet as he practically drags me around the room, nearly tripping several times in the process.
He stops and arches a brow. “I thought you had practiced?”
“I—”
“May I?” Ryvan cuts in.
He gives me a brilliant smile, and my anger dissipates almost instantly. Without hesitation, I take my place on his feet, just as we’ve done many times before. He pulls me closer and begins to whirl across the floor. Anyone not paying close enough attention would believe we moved in perfect sync. I’m so happy to be in his arms, I forget the shocking information Eryl just gave me until my gaze sweeps back to the king.
I narrow my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the prince?”
He at least has the decency to appear chagrined. “Would it have mattered?”
“No,” I answer honestly.
He arches a brow. “Then why does it matter now?”
That wasn’t the response I was expecting. My cheeks flush with renewed anger. “Because you lied to me.”
“Forgive me, Ella. Please. I wanted to know what it would be like to simply be… Ryvan, and not the Prince of Anara.” He pauses. “Would you have treated me differently if you had known?”
I study him a moment. “I suppose it makes sense now why you thought women were going to swarm you this evening.”
He frowns. “Do you really find me that unattractive that you had a hard time believing it before?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “On the contrary. You are very handsome, Ryvan.” He tips up his chin, and I arch a teasing brow. “For a Fae, that is.”
He laughs, and then gives me a sly smirk. “Well, I suppose you are very beautiful yourself, Ella. For a human, that is.”
I laugh, as we fall into a familiar pattern of teasing each other. It is almost as if the awkwardness of our earlier kiss never happened. I gasp as he tightens his hold on me as we spin and whirl across the dance floor. His glowing green eyes hold mine as we move with the music.
One song bleeds into the next, and I cannot stop smiling. I’ve never had so much fun before and I don’t want this night to ever end.
He leans in. His breath is warm as he whispers in my ear. “Hold onto me.”
“What are you going to do?”
He flashes a mischievous grin, and then lifts into the air.
A surprised laugh escapes me. I cling tightly to him as we spin and whirl amongst the other couples, in a flying dance. He gathers me so close, there is no space between us. I can feel each beat of his heart, beneath his chest, against my own.
His glowing green eyes stare deep into mine, and everything else falls away. Nothing exists outside of this moment between us. Warmth fills me as my entire body hums in awareness of him.
“Ella,” he says softly. “There is something I want to ask you.”
“What is it?”
“I know I have already booked your passage for Arnafell, but what if you were to—’
A woman moves beside us as the song ends, interrupting him. She bows low. “Your father thought we should dance, Your Highness.”
Ryvan is flustered as he lowers us back to the floor.
Jealousy sweeps through me. I do my best to keep my expression impassive as I dip my chin in a polite greeting to the woman before turning back to Ryvan.
“Excuse me, Your Highness,” I add with a bitter edge to my tone. “I will leave you to your partner.”
I don’t bother to look at him as I push away and start for the nearest door. I’m not sure where this leads, so I’m glad when I step into the palace gardens.
I have no right to be upset. We made no promises to each other beyond our agreement. We kissed, but I’m certain it meant nothing to him. After all, he’s a prince. He probably has kissed many women.
Fae women, I remind myself. Beautiful, lovely, ethereal creatures with whom a human like myself could never even hope to compete. Besides, our people are enemies. The veil was created to keep out humans and other races.
Although it occurs to me, in my anger, that I am not holding up my end of the bargain. I’m supposed to be his date this evening; the one who dances with him every song to keep all others away. He does not want a wife. He’s made that clear from the very beginning.
Suddenly, I feel terrible. I was the one who first kissed him this morning. He must have naturally responded to my affections. His response does not mean that I hold any importance to him. I was probably in a line of many women who practically throw themselves at him.
With a heavy sigh, I turn back toward the doors. I need to find him and hold up my end of our agreement. I should not have abandoned him to the first predatory woman who came his way, searching for a title.
I grasp my skirts to lift them so that I do not trip on the steps and collide with something solid.
When I look up, Ryvan is staring down at me.
“I—I was just coming back in, Ryvan.” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m doing a poor job at upholding our agreement; I should not have left.” I glance over his shoulder at the ball inside. “Come. I only have until midnight before Eryl’s enchantment will fade. Let’s go back in and dance.”
I start to move past him, but he takes my hand, stopping me. “No, Ella. I… I’d like to speak with you. Out here, if you do not mind.”
“All right.”
He smiles and entwines our fingers before leading me into the gardens and away from the ball. The sound of the music inside growing fainter the further we walk. He guides me to a wooden bench near a crystal fountain.
“My grandfather had this built for my grandmother.” He motions to the structure.
It is lovely. The water cascades over the edges of three tiers, spilling down into a pool below that surrounds the base.
Several streams lead into the rest of the gardens, winding along the many worn paths. I marvel at all the trees and flowering bushes full of bioluminescent blossoms that cover the entire space. It is nothing short of magical.
Fireflies flit nearby, their bodies glowing a lovely golden color.
Ryvan continues. “My grandmother passed a few years ago, but my grandfather still sits out here every day, remembering her.”
I gently squeeze his hand. “You must miss her, as well.”
“I do. She was one of the only ones who—” He stops abruptly, lowering his gaze.
I want to know what troubles him so. I touch his cheek. “What is wrong?”
