Page 54 of Wild Flame

All of us gasped—even Hilde—as the gorgeous gown inside was revealed.

It was a two-piece Zehvitian-style gown. The fabric was a deep blue with silver embroidery—Halmarish colors, which I knew couldn’t be a coincidence. Heavily embroidered designs spanned across the bust and sides, and along the jewel-encrusted waistband of the skirt. The arms, as well as the overlay of the flowing skirt, were made of a sheer blue gauzy fabric.

I ran a hand over the soft material. It was stunning. A gown like this would have had to have been commissioned days, if not weeks, ago. Which meant Malik had intended for me to be his partner tonight for some time.

“Well, try it on!” Astrid demanded in her excitement, and for once, Hilde’s forbidding frown did nothing to dampen the girl’s eagerness.

“Do you think this wise, Your Highness?” Hilde asked. “Encouraging Prince Malik’s attentions will only feed the court gossip already spreading about you and he and the nature of your . . . relationship.”

“It’s just a dress, Hilde,” Astrid said dismissively as she helped me quickly slip on the gown.

I didn’t bother to respond as I took in the dress. The neckline was modestly square and thankfully high enough in the back that it covered my scars. It only showed a small sliver of my lower midriff, not exposing it completely as so many did, though it still felt odd to have any skin on display at all.

I inspected myself in the mirror. It was much simpler than most of the dresses I had seen Zehvitian women wear, but much more elaborate than anything I had ever worn. It contrasted beautifully with my hair, which I wore partially braided back. Astrid had twined a silver chain through the hair at my crown that dipped down with a teardrop pearl at my forehead.

The fabric itself was also a revelation. It was the first time since coming here that I wasn’t hot and uncomfortable, or at least warm in my clothing. And I felt beautiful. After my conversation with Malik in the garden, I had commissioned a few lighter gowns be made for me to better fit the climate, but they were nothing like this. Now the foreign texture of the material against my bare skin made a small, wicked thrill dance through me.

As I reached the banquet hall, the sounds of exotic flutes and two-toned drums swirled through the guests and added to the festive air. I nodded to a few members of the court I had come to recognize as I stepped into the room and was just about to accepta drink from a passing servant when a conversation filtered into my awareness.

“. . . no way he can truly mean to choose her as his Hassai,” one woman was saying. “He only marked her during the games because she’s visiting royalty.”

I froze as I realized who they were discussing. My body flushing hot, then cold.

“A political maneuver. She’s a fool if she believes he actually means anything by it,” a second woman agreed.

The two women obviously had no idea I was standing within earshot and I quickly moved further into the room to escape hearing any more of their conversation.

A large area had been cleared for dancing, and I let myself be entranced by the hypnotic, sensual movements of the many couples, trying not to think on what I had overheard.

“A very different experience from a Halmarish dance, is it not?” Leif observed as he came to stand beside me. Thankfully his question distracted me.

“Simply scandalous,” I agreed.

The stoic man actually smiled, and I had to admit he looked rather good standing there in his formal clothing. It was one of the first times I had seen him forgo his gray riding leathers. He looked fierce and intimidating. “What would your mother say?”

“I hope to the Nine I never find out,” I laughed honestly and eyed him. “Are you here to caution me in her stead?”

Leif sobered somewhat. “No, Princess. Not tonight. But since you finally broached the subject, please know that during our previous . . . discussion . . . that it was only out of concern for you that I said what I did.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I know you meant well. It’s just—” I halted as I felt a prickle at the back of my neck. I shifted, seeking . . . something . . .

And locked eyes with Malik as he approached, striding purposefully toward me. He looked magnificent in a dark formal jacket detailed in red stitching and open to reveal a blood-red tunic underneath. His short beard had been freshly trimmed and his black hair was smoothed back from his face.

But all of that was not what had a frisson of awareness racing down my spine and over my skin.

As he approached, that dark gaze took in what I wore from my slippered feet to the chain woven in my bright curls. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry as I took note of the primal need and desire sparking in his eyes.

Leif looked to see what had caught my attention, and his jaw clenched.

Malik came to a stop before us and extended his hand to me, the golden gauntlet around his wrist glinting in the light. “Shall we, Your Highness?” he asked rather formally—no doubt for Leif’s benefit—though there was a slight tilt to his lips.

I fought to steady my breathing as I nodded and took his hand. I watched his eyes flare as he noted his mark still on my skin. I looked at Leif.

“I trust you know what you’re doing, Princess,” was all he said, before bowing his head. “Your Majesty,” he said to Malik.

Malik didn’t take his eyes off me as he tucked my hand against his arm. “Rider,” he replied, before sweeping me towards the dancers at the center of the room.

He leaned close. “You look absolutely devastating in that dress, siren.”

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