Page 174 of Resurgent

“People of Clowess, cherished friends, and honored guests,” she begins. “Tonight, we gather not merely to celebrate the future of our kingdom, but to celebrate the future union of two souls that have been inseparable since birth.”

She gestures gracefully to the side toward the happy couple. “It is with great pleasure that I present my son, whose devotion to Clowess has never wavered, and whose heart has found its match in Lady Everleigh. May their union be a symbol of enduring hope, prosperity, and the strength that comes from fighting for those you love."

She raises her glass. “Celebrate with us. Dance, laugh, and perhaps,” she adds lightly, her eyes sweeping the room, “find where your own story may begin before dinner is served.”

The trumpets sound again, and the hall erupts in applause.

As the musicians start playing, the singles begin pairing up, a ridiculous tradition we share in Thandroan that I’ve always despised.

One of the tall men who had been blocking my view now asks me to dance, and it seems I have no choice. As soon as one song ends, the next starts up, and I’m pulled into another dance by a different man…

Every dance is the same game of fifty questions: “How old are you?” “Where are you from?” “What do you do for fun?”

I’m shocked into silence when one man changes things up and asks how wide my hips are, so he knows if they will be good for birthing the litter of kids he wants.

After another dance with a partner asking boring questions, I spot the top of the prince's crown—it must be time for the happy couple to walk around greeting their guests. Thank the gods. The sooner I can get out of here, the better.

I start moving in their direction, picking new dance partners that get me closer to them. Unfortunately, the questions don’t get any better.

I’m so close when I fall into the arms of my newest partner, who I think very well may be a god, because for the first time all night, he isn’t stepping on my toes or interrogating me. He smirks at me, but says nothing as he spins me around the dance floor. Appreciating the reprieve, I let my mind go completely blank, basking in the silence that I know won’t last.

When the song comes to an end, I give him my first genuine ‘thank you’ before turning away. The couple has only moved a few steps, now distracted by a loud noblewoman talking enthusiastically with her hands, clearly wanting to be seen and heard receiving personal attention from the royal party.

They’re stopped next to a table with a champagne tower, and I see my opening.

My heart rate soars, but I was trained for this.

I curl ever so slightly into myself, no longer the confident young woman, but now a meek, forgettable figure needing a drink to make it through the evening.

Reaching for a glass with my left hand, I tip the vial into his drink, the amount so small that it only takes a fraction of a second, and the bottle is empty.

No one even notices I was here, too distracted by the animated story the noblewoman is telling.

I spin, ready to dance my way back across the dance floor, needing alibis and to be as far away when he goes down as possible.

But suddenly, my arm is being yanked backwards.

This is it. Someone saw me.

I block Tyr from my thoughts, not wanting my emotions to reach him.

For a horrifying second, I see how everything in my future will unfold. The screaming will start and the music will stop. Will I be killed on the spot or thrown in the dungeon, tortured however the guards see fit until my last breath?

I force myself not to react. I don’t need to give them any proof.

“Where did you get that?” The man that was just quiet now barks loudly. His grip is threatening, but his voice is deadly.

I try to pull away, but can’t. The old me would panic, the new me would fight, but I cannot cause a scene tonight, so I make myself steady.

“Can you be more specific, my Lord. Each piece I’m wearing came from somewhere different.”

“I don’t care about your outfit! The blade. Where did you get that dagger?”

My dagger? He wants to know about my dagger?

“A…friend.” I lie.

“Who is your friend?” he spits out. “Where did he get it?”