Page 45 of Frost and Death
Niko grins, patting him on the arm and gesturing to the dance floor. It is reassuring to see Niko unbothered by this man, despite the mishap Rick witnessed last night.
I don’t necessarily need Niko’s permission to accept a dance with another man, but he still offers me a quick nod.
Last night is still fresh between Rick and me, but in using this dance to explain myself and thank him, maybe I could make a friend. I cling to the idea, hoping that leaning more into optimism might also bless my future.
Warmth surges up my body as I take Rick’s hand.
He drapes my arm along his elbow, inclining his thanks to Niko. When his eyes meet mine, they are brighter and filled with blue.
As we drift to the dance floor, my guilt festers in the back of my mind that I still find him attractive.
I should not be feeling anything for this man. I have Niko, yet my gut still clenches when heat radiates from Rick’s every touch.
The ensemble plays a harmonious ballad, and my steps falter after a few movements. My only saving grace is Rick’s hand placement, gripping me tighter to keep embarrassment at a minimum.
He chuckles at my misstep as a blush explodes on my cheeks.
“In need of saving again so soon?” he chides.
I don’t answer his remark, avoiding his gaze as we sidestep and spin.
The silence is suffocating, his gaze penetrating, as if he is waiting on me like prey to respond.
I feed him the silence as my emotions simmer down, waiting until I am ready to engage as a queen. I need to keep my features calm and cool and converse with him, as I would any other person here tonight.
Like cutting the tension with a knife, I jump into making amends for the awkwardness of last night. “I never did thank you for retrieving medicine from my lady-in-waiting yesterday.”
“You are feeling better, I take it?”
“Yes, very much so.”
I smile lightly, and Rick grins with a nod, his one dimple pinching his scar, making my stomach somersault.
Sweet Makers, please don’t let me be blushing.
I need to think of Niko and only Niko.
Not one thought should drag me back to Rick.
We lift our hands above our heads as we turn in circles, our gazes holding as our breaths sync. Twisting and twirling, Rick spins me out, then draws me back in, his touch setting the skin beneath my onyx velvet gown ablaze.
“I find it amusing that many of your guests are congratulating your future husband instead of you. I would have imagined they’d be singing your praises, not his,” he states nonchalantly.
I find Niko on the dais surrounded by many noblemen and women who clasp his hands and raise their glasses to him. I am happy to defend him.
“The people love him. It is to be expected to offer good wishes to the betrothed.”
The small symphony builds the ballad for the last few bars of the song.
I try to ease into the music, but I can’t stop dwelling over Rick’s comment. If the people didn’t know of my abilities, if they didn’t succumb to this ever-growing winter, they might feel differently about me.
My mood darkens, and I wish I had not gone down that path of thought.
“Relax, My Queen,” Rick coos. “Or you’ll freeze over the whole ballroom if you keep that up.”
What the fuck?
I blanch at Rick, stunned into silence as the song ends. I assumed he had known about my nickname, but for some reason, I wasn’t expecting him to voice it so bluntly.
