Page 5 of The Artist and the Dragon

Where words seem to fail her, Lord Griffith had no such issue. “Your Highness.” He bowed at the waist. “This is a pleasure.”

Lord Griffith beamed at him with a smile bright as his red hair. Bronwyn, on the other hand, seemed to hug the shadows to her, to become a storm cloud given human form. It didn’t escape him the way she gripped the skirts of her dress or that her curtsey was stiffer than stone. But it was her gaze that struck the hardest blow, the fury-filled stare that painted him as the worst of villains. “Your Highness.”

If he hadn’t been so practiced, the bitterness in her tone might have wounded him, but he covered that weakness with a smirk, as he always did, and addressed the other man on the balcony. “Lord Griffith.” He closed the distance between them. “How nice to see you again. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

He was, of course, but the other man knew well enough to keep his manners. “Of course, it’s no bother at all, Your Highness.”

Appeased, Malik looked toward his real target, absorbing her fury. If that was all he could get, he’d take it. “Queen Ceridwen is asking for you.” He extended an elbow, inviting her to loop her arm through his.

How he craved her touch, even one so formal and reluctantly given. His arm nearly shook in anticipation. Bronwyn sighed and looked at Lord Griffith. Malik held his breath. If she rejected him…

“My apologies, Lord Griffith. I have enjoyed our conversation.”

“Not at all, miss. The pleasure was entirely mine.” His smile brightened. He reached for Bronwyn’s hand, but Malik was quicker, looping her arm through his before the other man could dare to place a gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand.

“We are needed quite urgently.” Malik forced his smile wider as Bronwyn stared up at him, her mouth parted in shock. To Lord Griffith, he said, “I look forward to attending one of your gatherings again soon.”

“Of course,” the man said, seeming to swell with pride. “It would be an honor, Your Highness.”

Malik led Bronwyn back to the party, and thank the Goddess she followed without protest.

“Why were you out here alone?” he whispered as they neared the open double doors, the bright light inside making him blink.

“Is that a crime?” The retort was sour like early grapes.

Something about seeing her flustered, at ease enough to speak her mind, smoothed out some of the tension held between his shoulder blades. “It’s unseemly for a young woman to—”

She groaned. He fought back a chuckle.

“There were guards in the courtyard,” Bronwyn said. “We weren’t truly alone. Nothing unseemly happened, or would have. He was a gentleman.”

His arm tightened, drawing her closer. “It’s not just that. With all the threats recently—” He cut himself off as they passed near a cluster of people suddenly paying them too much attention. “If anything happened to you…”

Malik led her to a less crowded area on the edge of the ballroom. When he looked down at her, her features had changed. Gone was the pinch of her brow and the thinning of her lips. Some of the fire in her brown eyes had softened into the soothing warmth he’d grown accustomed to during the past winter. For a moment, he saw the woman who hadn’t wanted to be near him just because he was a prince. Who had taken his playful barbs and turned even more pointed ones back at him in a way that heated his blood with warring emotions. But mostly, he remembered her steadfast loyalty—to her sister and to him. When he’d been injured in battle, she’d braved danger to stay at his side. She cared. Somewhere beneath the armor she wore, she felt something for him.

“If anything happened to me…?” She blinked up at him.

Goddess help him, he would rip the world apart to avenge her. There was a carefully guarded, fiery light within her that he was determined to bask in again.

One day.

But not this day.

Malik swallowed thickly. “Our new queen would never forgive me.”

Oh.

He could almost hear her reply as she glanced silently at the polished floor. Damn it. Whatever happy illusion he’d seen in her gaze moments ago flitted away faster than the bubbles in the fizzy drinks being served. And he was to blame. As always.

“Come. We shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer.”

Chapter 3

Bronwyn

Foramoment,Malikhad been the man she remembered from winter. The soft sparkle in his green eyes, the way his dark locks framed his face, how each layer and fold of cotton and silk accentuated the strong body beneath. Each detail brought memories that she’d tried hard to bury rushing back to the surface.

Being near him was insufferable.

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