Kit might have taken away his demon attributes but there is no disguising that he’s different, that he’s dangerous. He is still beautiful in an otherworldly sense, his features almost cat-like and his dark hair glimmering in the light. There is no hiding the strangeness of his dark, shifting eyes, yet I cannot imagine many can hold his gaze long enough to notice the swirling colours within. Kit may have attempted to look human, but he was never going to blend in. Even his formal dress makes him stand out. Honestly, I’m not surprised, he’s a peacock parading around and if I know him at all, he will be enjoying all of the attention. He’s wearing a stunning black slim fitting jacket that is bound to cause a stir amongst the nobility as he has shunned the formal look and left it unbuttoned save for the final two, displaying his white shirt beneath.
Can no one else feel the power that he holds within him? It’s so strong that it’s stinging my eyes and nose. Something is tugging at the back of my mind, a warning or thought just out of reach, my mark sparking across my back. So many are staring at him, yet they are distracted by his beauty and I realise that he is wielding his looks as a weapon. Glancing around us, I seem to be the only one in discomfort. It could have something to do with our proximity, but I have a more important question to find the answers to.
Why is he here?
However, I might have a more pressing situation on my hands with how Kit is staring at the prince, sizing him up. From his expression and mocking smile, it is clear he finds him lacking. Amir stiffens against me, reacting to the disrespect. Thisis going to dissolve into a fight if we are not careful, which is probably exactly what Kit wants.
Prince Amir releases me from his hold but keeps his hand on my waist, keeping me close as he turns to address our interrupter. Kit watches the prince carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly at where Amir’s hand is still resting on my waist. Both males are taller than me and stand around the same height so I tilt my head to look up, my gaze moving between them.
Amir stands tall, raising a brow as he runs his eyes over Kit, taking in his unusual dress style and long hair. Clearing his throat, he smiles politely, his diplomatic training kicking in, even though it doesn’t carry through to his eyes.
“My apologies, Lord…”
Arguments in the Gutter are far more vulgar and usually involve threats and loud body-language. However, I have spent enough time watching nobility in the market place to know that their disagreements can be just as fierce. The way Prince Amir trails off is a very subtle slight, implying that by not knowing his name, his is not worth knowing. If you weren’t paying attention you might miss it, especially as he is wearing an amicable expression.
What he did not bank on was that Kit is a liar and not one to lose at anything. Smiling with a feline grin, he bows with far more flair than necessary, almost to the point that it’s mocking the prince. However, before anyone can say anything, he stands and tilts his head to one side.
“Sir.” Wicked smile fixed in place, he corrects the prince, a punishable offense for most. However, that doesn’t stop Kit from pushing the boundaries. “Sir Kristof.”
“Sir.” Shock passes over Amir’s expression and his entire body language shifts, the defensive posture relaxing. “You are a knight? I did not realise that we had ambassadors from other lands staying with us.”
Of course. By creating an alter ego from another land, he gets away with being an unrecognised face. Not only that, but as a knight from afar, he is probably the only person other than the king who could interrupt our dance and not be punished for it. Smart. Too smart.
We don’t have knights in Rune, and I have never seen one in person. The stories of their legendary missions often pass through the market though and I would listen avidly. Knights are a rulers most trusted soldiers, hailing from distant lands across the desert, bound by honour and trust. Chivalry is key in their societies and their lives are dedicated to their king.
While I don’t know the nuances of court life, I am guessing that as a visiting knight, Sir Kristof would be protected. As such, Prince Amir has no choice but to step away and allow the newcomer to take our dance.
Glancing at me, he looks like he’s going to say something, his expression so intense that it causes my breath to catch in my throat. Why do I feel like what he says next will change everything? Even those dancing around us have stopped to watch, tension filling the room.
“Amir?” His name is a question on my lips, light and breathy, anticipation making me lightheaded.
However, instead of encouraging him to speak, my prompt has the opposite effect. Squeezing my waist lightly, he bows his head at Kit, and then to me, stepping back and walking away.
A hand lands on my waist and startles a gasp from me, Kit’s touch electric and making the hairs on my arm stand on end. Even through the fabric of my dress I can feel his power, something deep within me humming in recognition. It’s both disturbing and exhilarating. Jerking lightly against my hip, he pulls me against him. I pretend to put up resistance, but my body is reacting to him in an unholy way. He’s grinning down at me, knowing exactly what his presence does to me, shiftingmy body until I am in the correct hold. All of this happens in the space of a second and we are whirling across the floor to the dramatic rise of music supplied by the musicians.
To my surprise, he says nothing, instead leading me into a dance. He’s a strong lead so I’m able to follow him fairly easily with little stumbles. My attention is on keeping my posture upright and my feet moving, but I can’t stop myself from sneaking a glance up at Kit. He’s not even looking at me, his attention over my shoulder. For some reason that makes me really frustrated. Does he not want to dance with me? Was this all a ploy to break up my moment with the prince and cause a problem?
The impulsive need to do something races through me, and before I can stop myself, I stamp on his foot. It’s intentional, and I let all of my frustration fuel me. His head whips around, eyes narrowed. With an air of innocence, I smile up at him. “Oops.”
Those shifting, shadowy eyes pin me in place, seeing right through to my soul. He knows it was no accident, but surprisingly, a slow smile pulls at his lips. Frowning, I try to work out what I’m looking at, as he almost looks like he’s proud of me. This makes no sense, why would he be proud that I deliberately tried to hurt him?
“I thought your Prince was never going to leave.”
Biting back a sigh, I shake my head and look away, watching the other dancers over his shoulder. I knew that his silence was too good to be true. He’s trying to pick a fight but I will not let him win. Instead, I lift my chin and clear my throat.
“You just interrupted a prince,” I comment lightly, as though none of this means anything to me. “That would be a death sentence for some.”
His hand tightens on my waist, the only warning I get as he dips me low, his arm supporting me firmly. A small startled noise escapes my throat, the whole world moving around me.However, I feel completely safe in his hold. Maintaining this position, he leans down so our faces are just inches from one another. “He was hogging you.”
Seriously, that’s his explanation? Amir and I were dancing too much so he decided to crash the ball. How did he even know I was dancing with the prince? He must be watching me again. Scowling, I pull back my upper lip to snarl at him about spying but he uses this moment to jerk me back up, twirling me until I’m dizzy and I have to press my hand against his chest to steady myself.
“Besides, I knew he wouldn’t fight me.” He adds this as an afterthought, as though none of it really matters. Really, I suspect that he simply doesn’t care, that the matters of humans are beneath him.
Pushing away from his chest, I am determined to get answers and glare at him in annoyance. “Why are you here, Kit?”
I am frustrated that he’s here and causing trouble, but what really agitates me is how comfortable I feel pressed up against him. My body is betraying me and I need it to catch up and realise that Kit is not a good man to be attracted to.
The smile he gives me is heated, causing a tingle of desire to shoot down my spine and to my core. “Can’t a handsome man just want to dance with a beautiful woman?”
