Page 57 of Ties of Dust

He’d given some thought to Flora’s protest that she’d never be able to blend in with the other guests. It would bemuch less conspicuous if they didn’t arrive together, but their hands were tied. His best solution was to set a precise time to leave their rooms. He would go first, and she would follow immediately after, hopefully giving the illusion of coincidence.

The tether didn’t pull him up short, so she must have been ready at the assigned time. When he entered the ballroom, his heart sank a little. The room was even more enormous than he remembered. So much larger than twenty feet across. It was going to be an awkward evening.

His eyes caught Lord Armand in the crowd, and narrowed slightly. The nobleman had been very little help in promoting the marriage alliance to the king. The sense of urgency Cassius had managed to create on the road had faded once they were back in Crandell. Lord Armand had likely guessed that Cassius had his own reasons for keeping the tether quiet and wouldn’t hurry to expose the nobleman’s actions in order to have him punished.

Irritatingly, he was right.

It was good that Cassius had arrived so early. Fewer people were present to take note of the bottleneck Flora’s entrance might create. Cassius hovered near the door long enough to hear the expected protest from the master of ceremonies.

“Excuse me, miss, you are…”

“She’s here at my invitation,” Cassius said carelessly, half turning his head.

“Of course, Your Highness.” The master of ceremonies bowed to him, moving back and allowing Flora free passage.

Cassius didn’t let his eyes properly latch on to her form, instead turning and making his leisurely way around the edges of the room. If he stopped within twenty feet of oneof the overflowing refreshment tables, perhaps Flora might actually get the chance to enjoy herself while he was being subjected to the tedium of a ball.

Flora had the sense to stay back while Cassius greeted his parents, although he could feel her presence as he moved along to claim Lord Armand’s attention. He still hadn’t properly looked at her, hoping to allay any suspicion that their coordinated arrival had been no coincidence.

“Good evening, Your Highness.” Lord Armand bowed deeply.

“Is it, My Lord?” Cassius eyed him coolly. “For some of us, it is a more restricted evening than for others.”

The nobleman shuffled his feet, at least having the decency to look uncomfortable.

“It is regrettable that progress on the alliance has been so delayed, Your Highness.” He cast a glance at the row of guards standing against one wall, his face crinkling in confusion as he saw the distance at which they stood. “Did you find a way after all to…”

He trailed off, one eyebrow rising eloquently. Cassius followed his gaze and at last found himself looking properly at Flora.

He’d been wise not to do so in front of his parents or the master of ceremonies. Surely they would have seen how, having once laid eyes on her, he was finding it difficult to look away.

He’d thought seeing her during the fitting would have prepared him for the effect, but it hadn’t. As the tailor had promised, the gown had been finished to perfection. It hugged Flora’s slim torso like a glove, tightly encasing her arms all the way to her wrists. At her waist, it flared out into a full skirt, the fabric the color of a bluebird’s wings. His efforts in sending a maid to her room hadn’t beenwasted, judging by the elegant way her hair was braided into a crown that perfectly graced her head.

There were no words to describe how different she looked dressed for a ball compared to the understated, practical guard attire she usually wore. She looked like…well, like the beautiful, elegant, young woman she was.

It struck Cassius that once her usual trappings were stripped away, there was nothing of the guard in her. Her eyes were alert and watchful as she took in the room, and he didn’t doubt her capability to respond to any threat that arose. But she didn’t stand with the posture of a guard or move like a soldier. She was graceful and poised, much more like a noblewoman than a bodyguard. It was as though in casting off her costume, she’d also discarded the act that went with it. He didn’t think she was even aware of having done so, which convinced him that for whatever reason, playing a part was second nature to her. Why, though? Why did she pretend? What past was she hiding, perhaps even running from? And how was it possible that she could be more confident in herself than anyone he knew—to the point of being impervious to the idle opinions of others—and yet be living her life playing a role designed to hide who she really was?

All of this ran through Cassius’s mind as he took in her calm and self-possessed demeanor. As she moved gracefully around the edge of the room, her full skirts stirring up little puffs of power that he could sense if he focused, other things struck him forcibly as well. But he refused to put words to them, even in his mind. He couldn’t let himself feel the things he was feeling when he looked at Flora. He simply couldn’t afford to.

But there was no denying she was beautiful. That much he could surely be allowed to admit, given it seemed widelyaccepted by those in her vicinity. He caught a few flashes of surprise, as if the onlookers were amazed to recognize the prince’s new guard in this unexpected setting, but most looked curiously admiring. They were no doubt wondering who the new courtier was.

For the briefest second, Cassius’s imagination broke away from the firm hand that usually held it in check. What if she had been a courtier? What if he’d been allowed to court her?

It was a question better not asked, and he took hold of himself as he turned back to Lord Armand.

“No,” he said shortly, the turmoil within him increasing his anger at the nobleman as he very belatedly responded to the question the other man had never fully formed. “We have not found a way around your enchantment, as you must surely know. We are forced instead to mold circumstances around its restrictions. Something which is highly inconvenient to us both.”

Lord Armand winced. “Your Highness, I can only say that I deeply regret the—”

“You can do better than that by saying nothing,” Cassius cut him off. “And instead helping me promote the alliance that will untangle the mess you created.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” The nobleman looked at something over Cassius’s shoulder. “I have made inquiries on that front, and the results are not encouraging.”

Cassius glanced back to see that the other man was watching the king. Predictably and infuriatingly, Sir Keavling was by his side. As Cassius watched, a familiar figure approached his father. The senior guard was the one who had been assigned to lead the investigation into the attacks on Princess Miriam and Cassius. It was his reportthey’d waited for in vain all day, and he bore every appearance of having just arrived from travel.

Cassius waited a moment for his father to look up and seek him across the room. Surely the king would call his heir—the target of the attack—to receive the report alongside him. But to Cassius’s anger and mortification, King Aelius didn’t even look up. Nor did he send Sir Keavling away as the guard bowed and began to speak.

Balancing speed and dignity, Cassius abandoned Lord Armand and strode around the room. He had to dodge some attempts to approach him, but most guests were occupied with the food. He sensed rather than saw Flora trailing an appropriate distance behind. When Cassius reached his father, she hung back out of hearing range, surreptitiously joining a clump of guests who were receiving chalices from a serving man.

---