I glance at the couples spinning on the dance floor, knowing for certain that Arthur has never danced like this before. “Are you sure? They don’t exactly dance like this in Pennyvale.”
He gives a boyish smile. “I’ve been watching them. I think I can do it.”
I’m about to give him an answer when I see the doors to the ballroom open, and in stride the three princes. As much as I hate to admit it, they look absolutely dashing, ridiculously handsome to the point that it’s painful to see them and to know I have no right to admire them as much as I am. Not when we all hate each other this much.
Prince Gareth is wearing a suit that’s such a deep red color it’s almost black. It makes him look dangerous and sinful all at once, as the fabric strains over his large shoulders and tapers at his narrow waist. The pants look painted on, hugging the muscles in his large legs. His gaze is sliding across the room and stops when it lands on me. I take in a ragged breath, then look away.
If I thought Prince Gareth’s suit was tight, he has nothing on Prince Lucien. My jaw drops open as I look at him, wondering how the hell they even put him in that suit. They’d have to stitch him into it. His suit is deep grey and silky-looking, which makes my mind wonder just how it’d feel under my hands. I don’t expect it when his gaze lands on me, and his eyes widen in surprise as they move over me.
Bitting my lip, I glance at Prince Alaric. He’s wearing a black suit with a golden tie. The gold brings out the lighter highlights in his hair, and warms his skin. When I glance at his pretty brown eyes, I find he’s already staring at me. Open curiosity is on his face.
“Come on, dance with me,” Arthur requests beside me.
It’s hard to catch my breath for a second. “Are you sure? It’ll be a mess.”
“Oh, I’m sure. This is exactly what I planned on us doing.”
“Planned?”
“Trust me,” he says, offering me his hand.
Unable to refuse him, I slide my hand into his. He walks me over to the dance floor. An instant later one of his hands still clutches mine, and the other holds my waist. We begin the dance steps that the others are performing, but it’s absolutely awkward and not at all smooth, the way it was dancing with the princes.
Still, I’m laughing every second. As he puckers his lips and plays every bit the part of a handsome prince, I’m left giggling until I’m breathless. Under his breath he murmurs things that only make me laugh harder.
“My lady, do you like my manly dance moves?”
“My legs are so big and powerful from all my dragon riding that I’m just a big, powerful man.”
“Arthur, stop,” I say, barely able to catch my breath.
“If you see how well I ride dragons, just imagine how well I ride the ladies.”
Our dancing is ridiculous. We probably look like two children who were let loose on the dance floor, but I’m having a blast. I forgot what it felt like to be with someone I completely trust. Someone who makes me feel safe.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tesson come in, along with Roland. I’d wondered a bit where Roland had gone. My guess is someone assigned him to help Tesson while he was here.Poor Roland. Tesson is the worst.
I draw my gaze back to Arthur. We lock eyes, and he spins me around. I don’t know what the other dancers are doing, but the world fades away in a rush of colors, and I feel happy and free. He pulls me closer once more, and I kiss his cheek.
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For being you.”
Arthur grins ear-to-ear. “I can only be me with you, you know that. Pennyvale has been just a little darker without you.”
“Enough!”
Someone steps in our way, and I collide with a hard body. Faster than I could ever imagine I’m pulled straight from Arthur’s arms to Prince Gareth’s side. His brothers are there beside him, all looking angry, which is just great. These three don’t seem to agree on anything other than making me miserable.
“What’s your problem?” I ask, trying to push away from Prince Gareth, but his grip on me is tight.
“We just think you’ve danced enough for the night,” Prince Lucien says, his voice controlled, but I can sense the anger beneath his words.
I shove Prince Gareth again, but he’s like a brick wall. “I decide when I’m done dancing.”
“No, you don’t,” Prince Gareth says, and he doesn’t try hiding the anger in his voice.
