Page 67 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“Every bit the lady I was raised to be,” I say quickly and grab his hand. “Let’s dance.”

With the weight of the gown, every step feels like more of a workout than the last. Not to mention it’s hard to keep my focus on anything but his hand that more than burns through the barely-covering-my-skin lace around my waist.

After one dance I say “Wine break,” desperately needing to get some space. I don’t know why either, considering I’m dancing with the epitome of these spoiled kids. The picture-perfect prince.

“A fine idea,” he says, turning on his heel and picking up the glasses.

From the first sip, I feel like I’m drinking something warm and intoxicating with the way it feels moving through my body. I try to act like this is something I’ve done many times.

But Lucian asks, “Is this your first time?” I give him a look and he holds up his glass, “The wine?”

“Oh,” I shake my head, “no.”

He downs the rest of his glass in one sip. “It’ll help with your nerves.”

I take another sip too. “I don’t have nerves.”

“No?” he teases, stepping closer. He puts his hand on mine and guides my glass down, then brings his hand to my waist. He pulls me closer than he ever has before, leaning his head down so that his lips are brushing the top of my ear. Beginning the waltz, he whispers, “Then what are you feeling right now?”

“Definitely not nervous,” I whisper, but my voice is low and breathy and, worst of all, shaky.

He laughs a little against my hair. “Your voice betrays you.”

I back away, grab my glass, and drink the rest of it in two gulps. The tingles in my stomach that were already there from his touch multiply.

Fast.

“Am I to believe that wasn’t for your nerves?”

“Absolutely,” I say, raising a brow and pouring myself another glass. The only other time I’ve ever gotten really droozed was with Damien, the day I left. I push the memory from my mind. I’m going to get back. It’s just gonna take some time. And that’s okay—I’m biding it well. Learning to do magic and fight and drinking fancy alcohols.

I’m gonna go home a new woman.

But with that, I have to wonder, what is the point of this? I can’t tell anyone fundamental parts of me, and even if I could I’m leaving anyway.

Though, I suppose I lived my entire life not telling anyone fundamental parts of me. In a way, what I’m doing isn’t much different than what I’ve always done.

I drink the next glass with three sips and spiral into another. Maybe I should stop, I think, but Lucian just matches me in all my glasses.

The next time we try to dance, I almost fall on my face.

Lucian catches me, and the stupid grin he gives me sets me off into a fit of laughter, which he joins me in.

It’s a sound I wish I hadn’t heard. Rich and deep, like nectar on my tongue. Unlike every other time the sound has escaped from his throat. It bounces through the room, filling my ears and forcing me to wrack my brain. I haven’t heard a laugh like this in a long time.

But I can’t get over how silly he looked! His mouth was all lopsided and his eyes were wide with emotion I’ve never seen from him before. Even the simple thought of it makes me laugh harder.

So now the two of us are just looking into one another’s eyes and laughing like idiots, and I don’t want it any other way. I love this! I feel like I can do anything. So I take his hand and lift it over my head, spinning in circles until the room spins with us.

When I’m done, I fall into him, laughing and laughing and laughing.

“I’ve never seen you laugh like this,” he whispers and I’m sure I misheard him.

Still, I stop everything while trying to figure out if he really spoke or not.

“What?” I ask. I can hear the smile in my own voice and it’s so nice! So different from the way I’m used to living.

I really should just laugh more! This giddy feeling in my chest still hasn’t dissipated and I hope it never does.

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