Page 18 of Frost and Death
A dark thought has me wishing his smooth voice could talk me through vile thoughts.
“A story to be saved for next time,” he says.
I scoff, unable to hide my disappointment. “What makes you think there will be a next time?”
A lone dimple makes an appearance, followed by a low chuckle that vibrates through my bones. The same tender touch of his thumb rubs circles over my knuckles, drawing a slight tug at an old memory.
Runa used to do that for me.
I frown, the energy between us souring.
The song concludes, and my question goes unanswered.
But I find myself not wanting our interaction to end. I try to think of something else to say to keep him near, but I lose my chance when he releases me, pulling all the warmth with him as he lowers into a bow.
I extend my thanks, frustrated over ruining an interaction with someone I actually enjoyed and felt myself with.
When his blue eyes meet mine, I realize I never got his name. Is it too foolish to ask after our dance?
“What shall I call you?” I ask hastily, needing to know.
His lip quirks up at the side as he takes my hand.
Staring me down through his brow as his lips meet my knuckles, he says, “Call me yours.”
My heart somersaults at his words as I move closer, drawing air from my lungs. My feet remain planted to the ground as his coy smirk never leaves his face.
“Until tomorrow, My Queen,” he purrs, releasing my hand and retreating backward.
My insides flex as my dance partner shifts through the crowds, disappearing into the shadows. I am about to chase after him, but a new presence from behind halts my efforts.
Niko comes up to my side, his displeasure making me wary. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“I was dancing,” I explain, my eyes still focused on the spot where I last saw the scarred man.
He remains silent, scanning the crowd beside me as I look beyond the windows, taking in the star-filled sky.
“I think I should head to bed. It’s been—” I release a long, exhausted breath. “It’s been a long day.”
“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Niko offers me his arm.
I take it as we say our good nights to the guests.
Our footsteps are silent against the marbled tile as we drift past the peaked archways that frame tall floor-to-ceiling windows. The stairs leading to the higher levels of the castle are lined with dark-red rugs, and lanterns hang every few feet.
“Tee?”
Niko’s voice pulls my attention from the rug up to his face.
“Yes?” I ask as we climb the stairs, heading for the royal wings.
“Who was that man you danced with earlier?”
“I don’t know. He never told me his name.”
I almost miss the tension leaving his body as we inch closer to my rooms.
“Ah, playing the wholemysterymantactic?”
