‘Wait.’
I turn back to the prince, my heart sinking into my stomach.
‘What’s your name?’
‘My name?’ I repeat innocently, as if I’ve never heard of such a thing.
‘Your name,’ he confirms.
Which one?I think to myself.
I take a deep breath. ‘My name is Blaze, Your Imperial Highness.’
The prince blinks in surprise. I wait for the hatred, the fear, but there is none. He just holds out a hand, branded with the Imperial sun and eye.
‘Would you like to dance with me, Blaze?’
I hesitate, incredulous.
‘You don’t mind, do you, Marina?’ Prince Haldyn asks, glancing at her.
Marina looks like she minds a great deal.
‘Not at all,’ she simpers, shooting me a parting glare before stalking off.
The dance taking place around us comes to an end. The reedy string music starts up again, and half dazed, I let the prince begin to lead the way around the floor, his hand cool and smooth in mine.
Grandmother taught Flint and me how to dance. She was dictatorial with her lessons, having us glide and spin around this very ballroom again and again until we were perfect. I make a mental note to thank her for it later.
‘What were you doing?’ The prince is looking down at me in amusement, his face mere inches from mine.
‘When?’ I ask. My voice sounds a little breathless, but I tell myself that’s just from the dancing.
‘Just now, when you crashed into us.’
‘I was trying to catch my brother,’ I explain. ‘He likes to run off sometimes.’
Prince Haldyn frowns, bemused. ‘Flint?’
I almost laugh. ‘No, our younger brother, Renly. He’s only six.’
‘I see.’ He spins me round then catches me again in time with the music, drawing me in close to his chest. He’s a skilled dancer, graceful, well-practised and light on his feet. ‘And where were you earlier when my father called you forward?’
I grimace.
The prince smiles suspiciously. ‘What?’
I shake my head.
‘Well now I’m definitely intrigued. I could order you to tell me, you know, then you wouldn’t be able to refuse.’
I sigh, admitting defeat. ‘Honestly?’
‘Preferably.’
‘I was hiding,’ I tell him, holding on to my skirts as we spin around again.
His lips quirk. ‘Hiding where?’
