Page 278 of A Dance of Water

"Vale, she needs?—"

Vale silenced the raven shifter with a wave of his hand. "I will take her from here, Knight. Go back to your place in the shadows."

King Vale stood from his throne, eyes like emeralds shining behind the gold of his mask.

This was all an act, Luella realized. For the benefit of the hungry eyes around them.

The King took her hands, looping her arm through his elbow. "One more, darling," he murmured. "Give me one more show, then you can rest."

Rest. It seemed like a foreign notion to her now.

The crowd parted around them, giving them a wide berth as Vale stopped amid the very center of the throne room—right under the pinnacle of the glass dome overtheir heads.

She felt them all staring.

"What do we do now?" Luella whispered.

Vale’s hands tightened on hers. "We dance."

Even tired, dancing, she could do. Like second nature to her. Along with dreaming and reading.

As the enchanted embers fell around them like snow, Luella allowed herself to be swept away in the King’s embrace. His right hand was firm on her lower back, just shy of the scorching heat of her wounds; his left hand held her neck possessively, a claim for all to see.

And above them, the turbulent mass of clouds seemed to converge right over the skylight, swirls of air and inky black storm clouds. A tempest of vengeance. A steady formation of raging disbelief, flooded with her pain. Lightning lit up the sky overhead, flashing on their skin.

King Vale’s lashes caught errant dust particles, drifting from their corners and spilling over the sides of his mask like blue, sparkling tears.

"What thoughts are hidden behind your eyes, Princess Luella?"

She was thinking that she wanted the storm to break free. To drown them all, so they would know the weight of her sorrow. That she wanted to pull him closer and press her lips to his, so finally she could see if he tasted like smoke.

That she wanted to pound her fists against his chest and scream to the sky,Why.

Why would you treat me so horribly if I’m meant for you?

Why does it not seem to make a difference?

Why do I still find myself searching for you in the green grass and flickers of jewels set into your golden crown and the eyes of your half-brother, who haunts my dreams?

The weight of her thoughts was startling.

And the weight of her wings pulled her back.

She gasped, hands curling in his shirt.

Vale caught her just in time, carefully lowering her upper body in the lightest of dips, as if that had been his plan all along.

Her neck ached as she fought to keep it upright—then, he lifted her again, bringing her back up to face him.

The King stared deeply into her eyes. "Careful, darling." He reached forward, brushing his fingers over the Binding mark on her chest. She shivered from his touch. "Tell me what you think of."

The mark forced the words from her lips, and as she spoke, he watched her like every word out of her mouth was the answer to some question that had been plaguing him.

"I’m thinking about my wings?—"

A finger pressed over her mouth, his many rings cutting into her supple, rouged lips. Silencing her.

"You will not say that word. Not here."

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