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The captain had never admitted his feelings for Myra, but his pink-cheeked countenance had given him away. Myra, on the other hand, was very vocal when it came to her thoughts on Alyn. Kallie had told her friend time and time again that if Myra wanted to pursue a relationship with him, Myra was going to have to be the one to initiate it. Alyn was too courteous to assume anything (which Kallie found to be annoying, but Myra thought otherwise of it). As the two strolled through the gardens, their bodies leaned toward each other. Myra must have taken Kallie's advice at last.
From her bench, Kallie could hear Myra's soft giggle as Alyn rubbed his hand on the back of his head. Seeing the small moment of happiness shared between two people she cared about brought a soft smile to Kallie's face. But the moment was fleeting once they turned around the corner and disappeared.
Kallie's nerves began to slither to the surface when a burst of laughter sounded from the other side of the garden.
A group of guests had stopped at the semi-circle of benches near the fountain. Although before she could identify the members of the group, a bright glint of light caught her eye.
Her crystal shoes sparkled on the ground, and Kallie cursed herself and the ensemble bound to find a way to betray her at some point. She snatched up her shoes and shoved them underneath the bench. Taking the extra precaution to ensure that her dress would not betray her as well, she sank further into the shadows of her corner. She did not want anyone to know she was there or else they would act differently in her presence.
Properly tucked away into the darkness, Kallie returned her focus to the group by the fountain.
The four guests had spread themselves out among the three benches. Only one Kallie recognized: Fynn.
Kallie's eyes narrowed. Fynn sat alone on the middle bench. His suit jacket hung open, his dark brown curls, now free of the ribbon, flying in the wind. With a glass of wine in his hand, Fynn leaned back as he spread his arms across the back of the iron bench.
On the bench to Fynn's left sat another man who closely resembled Fynn—if Fynn had short hair. Twins, no doubt. And as far as Kallie could tell, identical besides their hair and overall aura. Where Fynn's demeanor demanded the attention of everyone in the room, the twin, whose posture was more rigid, seemed to want to sink into the shadows.
Both of the men's gazes were directed at the third bench where the last two members of their party sat: a woman and another man. The woman wore a pale pink dress, a shade that complemented her russet-brown skin. Her curly hazel hair, streaked with gold from hours under the sun, bounced freely around her face.
The man beside her was hunched over with his head pointed to the ground, his near-black hair falling in front of his face. Like the other men, he wore a simple suit, smoky black, with the top two buttons on his collared shirt unclasped. His elbows rested on his knees as a small glass of clear liquid hung loosely in his right hand. A series of gold rings on his fingers glittered in the moonlight.
Kallie had half the mind to stomp over to Fynn and his party, but the other half of her knew it was futile. As much as she wanted to ask—no,commandFynn to tell her what his intentions were, there was no point. At the end of the day, the plan was all that mattered. Tomorrow, Kallie would reveal her choice to marry King Rian. Then the rest of the plan would fall into place. She would meet her new fiancé in Frenzia and would use all of the tools she possessed to find her seat on the Frenzian throne.
A spout of loud, obnoxious laughter poured from Fynn's mouth again. The woman, who had tucked her legs under her, leaned over and poked the sulky man in the shoulder. The man shrugged her hand off of him, unamused. He tilted his head toward the woman. Although Kallie could not see his face, whatever expression lay on it and whatever words he spoke forced the woman to fall back against the bench with a groan.
Then a nearby voice made Kallie jump, nearly spilling her drink. “Princess, your father has asked me to escort you to your chambers."
Kallie looked toward the source. Polin, one of her younger guards, stood scanning the area with his hand on his hilt (as if anyone would be foolish enough to attack her during such a public and well-guarded event). Kallie liked him well enough. He was easy to manipulate.
"Thank you, Polin, but I can make it to my rooms on my own."
Polin cleared his throat. “King Domitius said you would say that. He said that if you did, I was to insist." His voice shook slightly at the indirect demand. “The king also told me to—to warn you that you need to preserve your energy for the long journey ahead of you."
Kallie rolled her eyes. Normally, she would not hesitate to convince Polin otherwise; however, he was right. Unfortunately. She had already overused her gift in the past twenty-four hours (not that Polin knew her father was referring to her ability. He probably thought the king was referring to her journey to her future husband's home). If she wanted to show the king she could rule a kingdom, she needed to show some discipline.
She passed the empty glass to Polin, then gathered her shoes from underneath the bench as she stood. Bare feet on the cold concrete, she placed a hand on Polin's shoulder, who immediately straightened at her touch. The corners of her lip quipped upward. Steadying herself, she slipped on the crystal shoes one last time for the night.
After fixing her skirts, she took Polin's arm. They strolled toward the doors and Kallie glanced over her shoulder at the group of strangers to take one last look.
She inhaled sharply.
Fynn was staring at her.
Did he know she had been watching them this entire time?
He raised his glass to her with a smug smile and a wink. The only answer she needed.
Kallie regained her shaken composure before he could notice it. She raised a single brow, casting a downward glance back in response. Then she spun, her skirts swishing across the cement as she gave her back to the man who left her feeling off-balanced in her own home.
Still, as she dodged the handful of guests in the ballroom, the feeling lingered.
Chapter5
Myra shutthe door behind Kallie, leaving Polin outside her bedroom chambers to stand guard. Kallie kicked off her heels into the corner of her room. In the shadows of her room, the magnificence of her dress extinguished. The jewels weighed her tired body down as she trudged toward her bathroom with Myra's light footsteps following.
Steaming water filled the tub and the scent of lavender and mint swam in the air. Once Myra unclasped the back of the gown, Kallie removed her arms from the thin sleeves, letting the dress pool at her feet. She stepped over the dress and lifted the plain slip over her head. While Myra dragged the dress into the other room, the jewels scratching across the marble floor, Kallie got into the tub. The hot water singed her bare skin, and Kallie let the heat wrap around her as she sunk deeper into the fiery pit.
When Myra returned, the handmaiden started pulling the pins out of Kallie's hair. “By the gods! I don't know how you wore that dress all night," Myra sighed. "It weighs more than a newborn horse."
