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“It shocked me, to be certain.” I tried to keep my mind from racing into questions I would never ask. “But . . . you’ve been understanding of me.” I gave him a meaningful look. He nodded, catching my meaning, but he did not move to speak. “So I accept your apology.”
“If I got blood on your dress, let me know. I’ll have it cleaned for you.”
“You didn’t.” It had been close, but I’d backed up enough to avoid any spatter.
At that moment, the song ended. Prince Vale stopped and bowed. I curtsied.
“I’m parched.” The prince held out his hand. “Would you like to join me for a wine?”
I took it. “I would.”
My quick agreement startled me, but I’d spotted Roar speaking with Lady Virtoris. They stayed deep in conversation, and I found that, while I enjoyed Sayyida’s company immensely, I did not want to go speak with her mother. Surely, she’d wonder what happened to me in the royal box, and I’d have to bring up that Prince Vale saved me. Roar had been so good natured about the dance, but no need to remind him of the prince gripping my leg in the healers’ wing.
At the thought, warmth pooled in my belly, but I pushed it aside as the prince led the way off the dance floor. A servant approached quickly, offering wine. The prince took the first gold goblet, handed it to me, and plucked another from the tray. He held his glass aloft.
“To a wondrous Courting Festival.” The words sounded flat as they left his lips, but we drank to the toast anyway.
“Is there a highborn lady that you wish to court this festival?” I asked, then realized he might have as little say in the matter as everyone else. “Or one that your father will match you with?”
“Father would wish me betrothed to the lady with the most to offer the crown.” He finished his wine in one gulp. “Many fit that description, but in differing ways.”
“You don’t seem happy about that.”
“I wish to find my soulmate.”
That stunned me. Not that I found it unreasonable. Rather, it was more romantic than I’d expected from the Warrior Bear. I too had often dreamed of finding my soulmate.
Taking a moment to compose myself, I finished my wine, waved a servant over, and set the glass on the tray. Prince Vale did the same, and when the servant offered more, we declined. I already felt too warm, too loose. I needed to keep my wits about me.
“Ambitious,” I said finally. “Fated mates are rare.”
Or so I’d heard. Humans didn’t have fated mates, and I’d grown up around them. Fae could have them, though with humans all around me, I’d had little real hope of finding mine. Actually, I wouldn’t have wanted to have found my mate—not if he were a slave too. I knew that some vampires were fated mates, like King Vladistrica and Queen Narcissa, but the concept seemed very removed from me. A fantasy. One that I would never experience.
“They are rare, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to find her.” He looked at the ground, as if sheepish to admit he had a bit of a romantic side. “If I’m to marry, I don’t want it to be for political ambition or status.”
I understood, even though that had never been a genuine issue for me. “Perhaps one day you’ll find her. You’ll be her prince in shining armor.”
As I spoke the words, my heart gave a stutter of hope. Silly thing. That would not happen to me. Whomever I married, if I did, I’d find him after I saved myself.
Prince Vale smiled. “Comes with the title of Warrior Bear, I suppose. Though I often prefer thinking of myself as a shield rather than a sword.”
I eyed him curiously. “The moniker gives off an—” From behind, someone ran into me, knocking me off my balance. “Oh!”
Slurred apologies flew, just as I did. Right into Prince Vale’s chest.
He caught me, and I stiffened before looking up at him. Our faces were so close, our breath intertwining. Stars, he smelled so good, like sandalwood but also like falling snow on a cold day. And his eyes looked like dark pools, so warm and rich one could get lost in them. They locked on me, and for a moment, a fire blazed in them. A want. I swallowed, wanting too.
Whispers flew all around us, snapping me out of my trance. My cheeks heated as I cleared my throat and straightened. “Apologies, Prince Vale. I—”
“You did nothing.” He shook his head. “A drunk jarl who has since disappeared into the crowd is to blame.”
“Right.”
We stood there, staring at one another. Neither of us knew what to say.
Again, the air seemed to heat, and my heart pounded harder. Stars, I needed to leave, to recompose myself. How to politely do so?
My answer came in the form of the pink-haired princess. Tonight, Saga wore a tiara, a small circlet of gold mountains decorated with sapphires. But that was not the most inspiring item that she wore. Down the front of her royal blue dress spilled a gold necklace in a geometric pattern that had to have been made by a master craftsfae. It looked stunning and large, covering much of her chest and ending at her naval. Saga looped her arm through mine.
