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“Tobias,” she said with a huff. “You’re not supposed to know who I am.”
“Impossible when you light up the room with your beauty.”
She snorted and handed me her horn again. “Flattery of his daughter will not earn you a place on my father’s council. If you believe so, you do not know your own king. You must flatter my mother first, then me, but most of all, you mustamusehim.”
“Hells, Mira, you think I don’t know that? King Ari doesn’t seem to find my jests amusing.” Tobias finally broke. He’d attended lessons with Mira since they were children, and the man never hid his intentions to be on the right hand of Mira’s father as a high-ranking noble.
“Such a shame.” She tapped his nose under the ram mask. “Couldn’t possibly be because he knows your game, could it? You keep trying to present like you’re a suitor for me, Tobias, yet my father andeveryoneknows you don’t favor women.”
“Simple solution: I’ll pretend you were born a prince.”
“Ah, so you think my only choice is to vow with you?”
“With your temperament,” he said, nose in the air. “Most likely.”
“I take offense to that and will be sure to let my father know.”
“You’re impossible.” Tobias closed his eyes and held out a hand. “I’ll forgive you if you dance with me, my horrid princess. Put me at ease that we’re still friends, right?”
She sighed and took his hand. “I suppose if we must.”
I laughed when they strode arm and arm, bickering, until Mira turned around, voice low. “Liv, don’t look now, but I think you might have another admirer.”
She nodded to the far side of the room. There, a man stood in the shadows, one shoulder leaning against the wall. A simple black mask hid his features from his brow to chin, only the tousled waves of his dark hair were visible.
Hair on my arms lifted. From here I couldn’t make out his eyes, but his masked face was aimed at me. Only me.
Knots tangled in the pit of my belly when the man shoved off the wall. He dragged gloved hands down his satin tunic, all black, the same as his mask. I took a step to the side. Across the hall, he mimicked my step in the same direction.
A dangerous air hovered around his shoulders. Darkness and mystery. My heart thudded fierce enough I could hear it in my head. I stepped again. My stranger did the same. Again and again, like a wolf who’d found its prey.
I didn’t recognize his stance, his stride. His aura left me wondering if he might hail from the dark corners of the Eastern realms. The thought of asking Sander faded when I took another step, putting his table in my wake.
Only a few paces away, my stranger maneuvered like an underwater dance through courtiers, never dropping his hidden gaze from me. Like my steps were chained to his, I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t turn back.
I lost my breath when all at once he was in front of me.
Tall enough I had to tilt my chin to reach his eyes. A flash of dark brown and almost . . . red, like the deepest sunset. For a long, drawn pause he held my gaze, studying me, breaking me apart, then piecing me back together.
Without a word, he reached out a hand. I prayed he wouldn’t see the way my fingers trembled, and placed my palm onto the warm leather of his gloves.
His voice was low, a rasp like a stormy wind, when he said, “Dance with me, little bird.”
I tilted my head, confused. He chuckled softly and teased some of the raven feathers on my mask.
“Oh.” Heat flooded my cheeks beneath the shield. There was something thrilling at not being addressed as princess or lady. He could be playing coy, but I liked the idea my stranger truly did not recognize me.
I tightened my grip on his hand. “I’d be honored.”
My shadow led me to the center of the hall. Once he determined we were at an appropriate place, he tugged me close. Not enough to be untoward, but enough I knew he was strong. Beneath his dark clothes his body was hard, broad, and powerful. My hands slid over his shoulders. One of his large palms settled on the small of my back.
Lyres and pan pipes played a cheery melody, and he fell into step with the tune. For several heartbeats, we said nothing, merely kept our gazes locked.
“What has changed?” he asked, sliding away from me, hand still clutching one of mine, before the music pulled us back together.
“What do you mean?”
I could not see his mouth, but his voice shifted pitch, like a smile had curved over his face. The stranger leaned close, voice soft. “I’ve watched you the entire evening. Not once have you seemed so . . . afraid of a partner.”
