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“Her stubbornness is aggravating, yet impressive.” Venn shook his head, and his voice was quieter as he said, “Devendra would have a brighter future with her on the throne.”
Bennick didn’t disagree, especially after the things Grandeur had been doing lately. Still, he cautioned, “Be careful who you say that around.”
Venn’s eyes rounded. “Are you going to report me, Captain?”
Bennick rolled his eyes. “How about we leave the politics to the politicians?”
He snorted. “Oh yes, because they’ve done such amarvelousjob.”
Bennick’s mouth twitched, and Clare entered the room.
She wore a dark purple gown in one of the popular Mortisian styles that left her arms bare. Her dark hair was piled up on her head and pinned into place, making her graceful neck look even longer. Gently curling locks brushed her high cheekbones. A delicate gold chain with a glittering diamond rested at the hollow of her throat, and she wore thick gold bracelets and a matching circlet on her head. Her visible skin was tinted to better match Serene’s deeper tone; the long-lasting stain had worn off during Clare’s captivity, but Bridget had re-applied it once they’d arrived in Duvan. Bennick missed her natural warm skin color. But even though she’d been made to look like Serene, Clare’s beauty was undeniable.
She stole his breath. Every thought in his head. And when she saw him and her red lips curved, she stole his heart all over again.
Vera walked in behind her, and Venn plucked a white flower from the bouquet Bennick held. He walked up to Vera, extending the flower with a bow. “My lady.”
Vera’s cheeks pinkened, but she smiled as she took the offered flower. “You’re ridiculous,” she told him mildly.
Venn grinned. “And yet you love me.”
“I do.” She rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she said, lifting the flower so she could smell it.
A spark of envy caught Bennick. He was grateful his best friend and Vera had found their way to each other, but it was a little difficult to watch them. It reminded Bennick that King Newlan didn’t care if a bodyguard and a maid had a relationship, but it would be akin to treason for the captain of the princess’s guard and her decoy to fall in love.
He knew he could kiss Clare, and Venn and Vera would say nothing. But Bridget was in the suite somewhere, and it was better not to take risks.
Bennick stepped forward, holding out the colorful bouquet to Clare. “A gift from Serai Jabar.”
She took the flowers, their fingers brushing.
He might have been pathetic for feeling that simple, glancing touch so deeply.
Clare smiled. “They’re lovely.”
“You’re breathtaking,” he told her softly.
A blush colored her cheeks, and her eyes glittered.
Fates help him survive this night of watching her dance with other men. “Tonight,” he whispered. “After the ball. Save a dance for me.”
Her expression softened, anticipation in her gaze. “I can’t wait.”
The Hassan ballroom was packed with people and lined with flowers from Serai Jabar’s garden. Lamps blazed, laughter rolled over the music, and the smell of perfume was overwhelming.
Bennick stood on the edge of the dance floor with Venn, watching as Clare was spun gently through a Mortisian waltz. Her laugh reached him, sounding genuine. Her partner—a handsome nobleman only a couple of years older than her—grinned.
“I can’t imagine what that feels like,” Venn said quietly.
Bennick exhaled slowly. “It doesn’t feel good.”
“You know,” Venn said, his eyes still on Clare, “I once thought it was impossible for me to be with Vera, but we found a way. And I’ve never been happier.” He glanced at Bennick. “I want you and Clare to have that.”
“So do I.” Bennick’s brow furrowed—the Mortisian had snatched her hand and kissed it, before spinning her again. His voice was a little rougher as he said, “I don’t know the way forward.”
“You’ll find it,” Venn said. “Of that, I have no doubt.”
Before Bennick could respond—not that he had a reply—Ser Hassan stepped up beside him. The man was dressed in his finery for the ball, but his expression showed concern, the fine lines on his face betraying his stress. “Captain Markam, may I speak with you for a moment?”
