Page 72 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

“May I have this dance?” Regulus bowed and held out his hand.

“I think you’ve earned it.” Adelaide took his hand with a teasing laugh.

Her skin on his sent a thrill up his arm. She wore a scarlet dress with a low square neckline. Swirling gold embroidery covered the bodice and cuffed the sleeves at her elbows. Below her elbows, sheer red fabric hung down to her wrists. A gold pendant set with a small ruby hung from the gold chain around her neck, the gold contrasting well with her soft brown skin. She looked like a dream.

As they danced, everything else seemed to fade. To become less important. More manageable. The awkwardness of supper seemed trivial. Even the mark on his arm seemed inconvenient rather than life-ending.The sorcerer said I’m getting close.Adelaide spun, the lantern light reflecting off the red ribbon and gold pins in her black braid. Her arm brushed his, and reckless hope burned anew in his chest.I can do this. I can love her and earn my freedom.

They moved through the steps. Closer together, her nearness an ache in his heart. Further apart, her distance suffocating. She spun as the song ended, and Regulus stepped forward. Adelaide bumped into him, her hands resting on his chest. A pleasurable tremor skittered down his spine as his hands found her waist.

His eyes darted down to her lips. The warmth of her body so close to his was intoxicating. He leaned forward. She didn’t pull back, but he thought of the sorcerer and hesitated. She deserved to know the truth first. To have a choice. He wanted to kiss her—Etiros above did he want to kiss her—but he wanted her to kiss him with full knowledge of everything he was. She bit her lower lip and his heart raced like a startled deer.

“Come to Arrano for supper,” he whispered, breathless. He forced himself to look back at her eyes.

Her gaze dropped momentarily, as if she were disappointed. “When?”

“As soon as you can.” Suddenly, he realized she couldn’t just come over. Not alone, anyway. “You, your sister. Sir Gaius. I want you to come to my estate for supper.”

She cocked her head to the side. “There’s the tournament. Then getting back. Five days from now?”

Regulus shook his head, remembering the sorcerer. “I forgot. I have an...engagement. I promised I would help someone and will be away for a few days. In twelve days?”

Adelaide’s shoulders slumped. “That’s the day before Lord Drummond is hosting Lord Thealane and his family for three days. We won’t be able to get away.”

“What about in eleven days?” The sorcerer needed his ingredientsbeforethe full moon, notonthat day. He could get the ingredients and be back by then.

“All right. I’ll check with Gaius and Minerva.” She pulled away from him, and he let her go with reluctance. He moved further away from the couples trying to dance around him, some looking at him with pursed lips. Within a couple minutes, Adelaide found him again. She beamed. “We’ll be there.”

“Six in the evening?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Regulus took her hand and danced with her until the musicians stopped playing. They talked and laughed. As the last note faded, he cupped her face in his hands. He swallowed against the lump in his throat.Not yet.He wouldn’t try to kiss her in front of all these strangers—several of whom cast disapproving frowns their way. No, he wouldn’t take advantage of the rush of dancing so close to each other. He still needed to tell her the truth.Patience.He brushed a soft kiss against her forehead and stepped away before he lost his resolve.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Adelaide nodded, a bashful smile on her face. “Tomorrow.”

He watched her find her sister and Sir Gaius and disappear among the crowd leaving the arena. He sighed. Deep. Contented. For the first time in years, he knew exactly what to do.

Joust. Win. Take care of the sorcerer’s shopping list. Have supper with Adelaide, Gaius, and Minerva. Get Adelaide alone. Tell her everything. And if things went how he hoped, once free, he’d ask her to marry him.

Regulus felt too exhilarated and nervous at once to sleep, so he exited the opposite end of the jousting arena. The waxing moon and glittering stars shone in the cloudless sky. The cool summer night air comfortable after so much dancing.

He wasn’t a good dancer, never had been. Adequate, sure. But Adelaide didn’t seem to mind. No one had bothered them. Even Carrick hadn’t shown his face. And Regulus had been too busy looking at Adelaide to bother noticing anyone else.

Footsteps. A rustling, behind him and to his right. He spun around.

Carrick stepped out from behind a large bush, sword hanging from his belt. “Hello, mercenary.” He sneered. “Where are your peasant friends? The Carasian who’s always trailing you like a shadow?” Four more men stepped around Carrick, although none of them carried swords.

Regulus reached for his sword. His fingers grasped at empty air.Feast. Dancing. No swords.A string of curses went through his mind.

“Missing something?” Carrick drawled. “You look better without the sword. More like what you really are—the son of a servant.”

Regulus’ hands clenched. “What do you want?”

“I’d like your head.” Carrick rested his hand on his sword hilt. “But it would be suspicious if you turned up dead. So, I’m not going to kill you. But I’ll settle for your humiliation. Kneel.”

“Excuse me?”

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