Page 72 of The War of Wings
Every one of these people had read my call for aid and had chosen not to believe the reason why it was needed. But here they were, ready to show off their money and status at a stupid fucking ball.
I was not too proud to admit Queen Irli had done a notably good job planning the affair. The smell of fresh blooms mingled with whatever had been roasting in the kitchens since before dawn. The orchestra in the corner played a lively tune thatfurther stoked my anger. Goblets were filled as laughter floated through the grand ballroom and set me on edge.
I closed my eyes and tried to soften my features. “How angry do I look?” I murmured.
Cal looked back at me earnestly from where he sat at my side. The surcoat he wore was molded perfectly to his body. I caught an obscene amount of women staring unashamed in his direction as they passed by, and all the effort I’d put into softening my features was gone.
“Somewhere betweena demon lord has infiltrated the realmandI’m being forced to attend a stupid fucking ball.So, I’d say you look just about as angry as you should be.” He reached over, clasping my hand in his. “Take a deep breath. You’re exactly where you need to be.”
I found the line in my head that connected me to Adorex and gave it a tug.Here, I heard echo back to me.Plan. Good.I nodded to myself. The impatient part of me wished I’d chosen a ballgown. This fitted dress was so tight around my thighs, I could hardly bounce my leg as I waited.
Miles was rigid where he sat on the other side of me, his breaths coming rapid and shallow as his eyes stayed pinned on the ivory tablecloth. “Are you okay?” I whispered. I’d lost count of the amount of times I’d asked him that exact question since Eserene.
“Fine,” he pushed out through gritted teeth. I gave him a sidelong glance. Tyrak looked at him, too, from where he sat on Miles’ left.
King Laion stepped onto the dais, Queen Irli at his side. “Your Majesty,” he snarled, his eyes moving up and down my body as his lip curled. “In Nesan, black is only to be worn for funerals.”
I made a show of preening under his stare. “I’m aware. I wanted to remind your guests of their guaranteed fate should they decide not to heed my call.”
His lip twitched for a moment before he yanked Irli’s chair out for her far too violently then lowered himself onto his own seat. Irli gave me nothing but a split second of a smile, her stamp of approval.
I stared out over the growing crowd, at the array of colors and fabrics that came from every corner of the realm. The number of people streaming in slowed to a trickle, the center of the room quickly filling with couples dancing to the orchestra’s music. Keeping my face soft was a fight. I had a feeling I looked constipated.
Cal pushed back from his seat, righting his surcoat before he extended a hand in my direction. “Dance with me, Petra.”
I raised a brow. “The world is on the brink of burning to the ground.”
“All the more reason to dance with me before it does.”
I didn’t want to dance. I wanted to yell. I wanted to rage. I wanted to sweep every table setting from its place, smash every instrument playing that irritating melody, undo all of Irli’s hard work and tell everyone totake me seriously.
But seeing Cal’s hand reaching for me, the dimple marking his cheek as he smiled… It did something to my insides. With a deep sigh, I took his hand and let him lead me down the dais.
“I can’t dance,” I said as we settled into a spot toward the outside of the crowd, his free hand falling to my waist.
“Neither can I.”
His forehead dropped to mine, and we simply swayed back and forth. Other couples moved around us, their footwork and spinning evidence of extensive training. My midnight-black gown was like a magnet, attracting the attention of everyone around us, but I didn’t care. The orchestra’s pace was quick, the melody jumpy and joyful, but we swayed to a song the orchestra wasn’t playing. We swayed to a song only the two of us could hear.
“You were right,” he murmured in my ear. “I do like this dress.”
He pulled away for a moment, raising his hand to spin me. And despite the white-knuckled anticipation still roiling through me, I threw my head back and laughed as I twirled, the movement nowhere near as graceful as those around us.
My laugh died in my throat when I remembered this was temporary.
I settled back in Cal’s arms, my hands against his chest. “This is nice,” I breathed, but the words were mangled as they caught in my throat.
Cal’s thumb hooked my chin, pulling my face to his. “Hey,” he said, swiping away the errant tear rolling down my cheek. “We will have this again, you know.”
“What, the opportunity to sway off-beat in the middle of a crowded ballroom?” I asked, desperately trying to infuse humor in my voice.
“No. You and me, at peace. But it’ll be for more than one minute next time.”
“Cal, there’s a very real chance that we all die on that battlefield, wherever it is. I can almost guarantee it.”
He backed up, extending his arm to give me a twirl again, a short reprieve from the intensity of his stare. “Maybe so,” he continued as he pulled me back toward him. “But if I die on that battlefield, my mind will be right here, with you tucked close to me in our own little world.”
I breathed him in, his smoke and cedar scent wrapping around me. “My mind will be in the house you built me.”
