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Nausea gripped me. I looked into his eyes, and he leaned in to kiss me again. This time I ducked my head, so my lips were just out of reach. He threw his head back and laughed.
“Come now, dear one,” he said, dragging me along the passageway again, “we will be late.”
Music met us as we walked into the enormous ballroom. The courtiers were, for once, not dressed in their usual burgundy and black, but rather a kaleidoscope of color.
Everything stopped as Theron and I entered, and Regan stood by the door, clearing his throat. “Our King, Theron, and his royal guest, Princess Elara of Peyrus!” He announced loudly.
Polite applause sounded, and the crowd parted so that Theron and I could cross the room to where the throne stood. A smaller golden chair, upholstered with rich blue velvet, had been placed beside it. Between the ring, the throne, and Theron’s arm clasping onto mine, it was very clear what kind of message he was hoping to send to everyone present.
My eyes darted around the room, looking for Rook. I could feel he was close by. Theron’s grip on me tightened, and I told myself he couldn’t possibly know what I was thinking, but it unnerved me all the same.
Theron led me up the two steps to the throne, and with a grand sweep of his wings he turned around so we were both facing the crowd. He animatedly took my hand from his arm, and raised it to his lips. His eyes flashed up to mine as he did so, and I felt a flare of envy at the base of my neck.
That was Rook.
I took my seat beside Theron, and when I raised my eyes back to the room, they immediately met Rook’s. He was approaching the throne, and he looked so handsome I had to suppress a gasp.
He was wearing a long white jacket with a high collar and swirling golden embroidery down the sleeves. White pants encased his legs, and there was a thick golden cuff hooked around his left ear. When he reached the throne and raised his hand to his forehead as he bowed to Theron, I saw the golden rings that adorned his fingers. Everything about him was regal.
“My King,” Rook said, straightening from his bow, “it is an honor to attend the ball this evening.”
Theron’s wings swished as he settled in his throne. “But of course, my friend. I would not dream of keeping you hidden from the many ladies who are so eager to meet you at these events.”
Rook’s eyes flashed to me as he no doubt felt my own surge of envy at Theron’s words. Once again, as though he could sense precisely what thought had passed between Rook and I, Theron spun to me with a grin on his face.
“I did tell you, did I not, dear one, about Rook’s prowess?”
My cheeks flushed violently and my eyes dropped to my lap. “Sire, I do not think -“
“Seen any ladies you like the look of yet, Rook?” Theron turned back to Rook with a jovial laugh. “There are so many pretty ones here this evening.”
“None that can match Princess Elara’s beauty, sadly.”
His eyes were on me as I raised my head. Oh Gods, that was too brazen. I swallowed hard and tried to smile.
“That is very kind of you to say.” My voice wouldn’t waver. It couldn’t.
Theron looked back and forth between us, the toxic smile remaining plastered to his face. “You two really do think very highly of each other, don’t you?”
“We do.” Rook’s gaze darkened, and I almost jumped when his eyes changed from the bright glowing blue I was used to, to a deep, burning navy. “The Princess is one of the most extraordinary beings I have ever had the honor of meeting.”
Theron raised his eyebrows as he looked back at me. “Well, that is high praise indeed, Elara. Though I would tend to agree with it. You are certainly something very, very special.” His green eyes roved over my chest, and sweat prickled at the back of my head. “How was your ride this afternoon?”
I met his gaze with a casual shrug. “It was very pleasant,” I replied, “It did me good to get some fresh air.”
“Plenty of exercise too, I hope? A ride is so very good for getting the blood pumping.”
I didn’t have time to acknowledge the creeping feeling of dread as his green eyes bored into me. A trumpet sounded outside the Hall, and all eyes turned to the door. Regan stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“The High Lord Caedmon of Tyval,” he announced loudly, then stepped back into a bow. The crowd murmured as they parted, and then a man strode in that made my skin crawl more violently than even Theron.
I couldn’t say what it was about him that made him so immediately unpleasant, but the way he gazed around the room, like he owned it, like we were all there to see him especially, was sickening. He had long red hair which was pulled back into a series of messy, matted braids, and his skin was almost unnaturally white. Except for his face - that was so ruddy it looked like he’d simply consumed too much wine.
It wasn’t until he drew close to the throne and his eyes settled on me that I saw the most terrifying feature. His eyes were bright yellow, and the pupil was not round, it was a long, black slit. Just as you’d expect a dragon’s eyes to look.
“Your Majesty,” Caedmon drawled, his gaze staying on me, “you did not tell me you had such a pleasing lady at your side.” He bowed deeply to us both.
“Princess Elara is our esteemed royal guest,” Theron said as he waved Caedmon out of his bow. “I do believe you knew her father well at one time.”
