Rubbing my chest, I tried to shake the sinking feeling, but it bit into my skin like a fierce wind from a winter storm. Swallowing, my eyes darted around, but everyone wore smiles or bored expressions.
Why did I suddenly feel like I drowned in darkness? No matter how I tried to shake the sensation, it clung to me like wet cloth.
“Something wrong?” Liam whispered.
I jerked my chin up. “A bird is watching me.”
Furrowing his brow, Liam followed my gaze. One eyebrow lowered when he met my eye again. “If you're trying to make a joke, I don't get it."
Liam couldn't see it? The bird cocked his head and fluttered his feathers—real as my heartbeat.
"May the stars bless this coming year," King Ailithir continued. "And may the twin moons watch over our people . . . And, I'll stop talking now."
A few people chuckled as the king raised his glass and returned to his seat. I looked back up at the chandelier, but the crow was gone.
"What?" Liam asked.
"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. The dread abated from my breast.
Removing my hand, I took a breath. What had that been, a hallucination? Had I not slept enough last night?
"Line's forming up." Liam nodded toward the dance floor. "Don't miss your chance."
Father touched my arm as I stood, eagerly pushing me. "You look beautiful tonight, dear."
"Thanks," I breathed. "Guard the perimeter, Liam?"
He smirked. "Mhm."
Reaching up, I touched my bun, ensuring my snow-white locks hadn't fallen loose. Smoothing the neckline of my lavender gown, I strode toward the gathering line of young noblewomen.
Women waited for a man to ask them to dance, hands knit and eyes downcast. Should no man ask for their hand, they would be shamed, deemed undesirable.
The fate had never befallen me. Liam or Father would step in if no one else would.
Taking my place, I stared at the floor. It had taken years to convince the king I was a suitor worthy of his son.
As a child, I'd run off, searching for home, searching for my mother. As a teenager, I'd raged against Father's insistence to leave the past be.
Years ago, I'd realized nobody was going to uncover the truth of what happened if I didn't. And nobody would raise Tirnanog from the ashes if I faded into darkness.
What better option had I than to pursue the prince? The shock of Tirnanog's loss had shaken Aenir to its core, but everyone had long accepted it was gone.
And that my name meant nothing anymore.
"May I have this dance?"
I looked up sharply to see Laiserian standing before me, hand extended, lips curled in a smile.
"You may." I smiled back.
I placed my hand within his, and my night came crashing down.
The doors slammed open in the distance, and thundering footsteps followed. Shouts of surprise echoed near the ballroom's entrance as a man in the silver armor of the Aenir guard rushed to the center of the room.
The king shot to his feet.
"Your majesty," the guard panted. "Trouble in Galasvar. I've been sent to call for aid."
