Page 12 of Cinder
He only spotted the man he assumed to be the newly crowned Prince Lorenz a few times, each from a distance—once only the top of his dusky brown hair and elegant silver circlet as he danced through the bobbing crowd, and later his back, as he was walking out of the central ball-space with a guest on both arms, one of the ornamented watch members trailing dutifully behind him. It left such a sense of mystery that Cin almost wanted to see him up close before he left. He was casually scanning the room again when instead his gaze caught on the entrance: on three specific people arriving there.
His heart ricocheted, and he took a few steps back, sliding into the shadows along the room’s edges. Besides the entrance, there were two great doors out to the gardens, but that would require Cin to move back through the well-lit spaces to reach them. A few other doors and spiraling stairwells led to the upper level where the shadowy, theater-style balconies were, but he had managed to find himself spaced equally far from any of them.
Maybe if he just stayed here, his siblings wouldn’t notice him?
But that wasn’t a chance he wanted to take.
Cin glanced to his left and right again, then up to the balcony. If he could get there without stepping through the brighter parts of the room, then none of his siblings would be able to spot him from below...
Grooves ascended along the wall where an ornamented pillar curled up under the edge of the nearest balcony. Peeling off his gloves, Cin slipped his fingers into the pillar’s lines. This could do fine.
Cin gave one final look toward the watch members in view of him, but none seemed to be paying any attention to his shadowy balcony’s underbelly. Taking as deep a breath as he could manage beneath his binding, he pulled himself up. The centralized lantern-light would have barely glinted off his outfit, and as he climbed, the magic overlaying him seemed to shift in color. The silvery gleams in his feathered coat went gray and the folds in the fabric flared and swirled, casting him in a ghostly haze. He slid his fingers along the curves of the balcony, tucking the sides of his toes against the frame for support, and hand over hand, Cin rose above the crowd.
As he reached the top, the tear in the side of his boot—the ordinary one, beneath the magic—snagged. He slipped, catching himself at the last moment with both hands on the banister. A sharp reminder of the state of his ribs speared through his sides as he swung himself up to the balcony’s safety. He landed with the tiniest sound: the pop and tear of another stitch in his boot.
Cin grimaced. He didn’t have much time to think about the repercussions this would have on his regular life, though, because the balcony wasn’t as empty as it had appeared from below. And the couple already occupying it were grunting.
One of them swayed against the other with an energy far too frenzied to be following the moves of any dance, his hands on their hips as he pressed them against the wall and— Oh. They were fucking.
They might have still been fully—more or less—clothed, but they were definitely fucking.
Shit.
The couple seemed to notice Cin at the same instant he realized it. They slowed, and Cin’s eyes had adjusted enough to the low lighting to make out the blush on the face of the probably-woman as she held to the lifted edge of her dress with one hand and what she could reach of the very edge of the balcony railing with the other. The probably-man pulled back just enough for Cin to catch the silhouette of his hard cock between the folds of fabric around the couple’s legs—and he was a man, Cin knew, because Cin vaguely recognized him.
As the man’s dark gaze settled on Cin in the low light, his eyes narrowed, scanning up Cin’s body like he was devouring him, adding up every glimmering piece of Cin’s facade and measuring it against his own want... and somehow, not finding Cin lacking. Not yet, at least, not draped in magic and shadows.
“Why, hello. Aren’t you a pretty little dove?” Prince Lorenz smiled, the flash of teeth in the low light so similar to that of his circlet: cold and arrogant but breathtakingly beautiful. “You want in?” he asked. “I think we can make room for a third.”
Six
Prince Lorenz, most eligible bachelor in the kingdom, soon to-not-be a bachelor at all, was looking at Cinder and... he was...
Oh no, oh fuck, ohfuck.
Cin felt his mouth turn to cotton and a burn shoot across his cheeks. His head went light in a rush of nerves. It made the room spin, and suddenly Cin’s legs weren’t quite underneath him. The banister was, though, then empty air, then—
A pair of strong hands circled around the collar of his suit jacket, pulling him back onto the balcony with a sureness that Cin had not felt from anyone’s touch in ages. The prince helped steady him, one arm slipping around Cin’s waist. His breath was warm against Cin’s forehead.
Cin yanked his hand off Prince Lorenz’s chest as he found his footing. Had he grabbed Prince Lorenz back? The heated embarrassment in his cheeks doubled.
The little smile, so smug and dazzling, appeared back on Prince Lorenz’s lips. He stepped away, shifting to take gentle hold of Cin’s wrists, like he was worried if he let go entirely that Cin might launch himself back over the railing. “There now. If you wish to reject my advances, there are easier ways, you know?”
Cin’s heart pounded in his ears. Should he pull away? Did hewantto? Hehadto, he decided, just to ensure the prince understood his intentions.
But then Prince Lorenz let go instead as the woman he’d been fucking—her dress hanging back around her ankles—asked, softly, “My prince?”
He turned toward her, casually buttoning his pants back up as he did. They were well tailored, Cin noted, displaying his trim waist and toned backside and the curve of what seemed to be a still half-hard erection. “Sorry, love, I think we lost the mood,” the prince said, but he reached for her as she made to leave, tucking a stray piece of her hair back with a soft, “I’ll see you later though, hmm?”
She gave him a tiny bow. “It would be my honor.” It genuinely sounded like she meant it.
Floy was already behind on the competition, it seemed, and this particular competitor was clearly getting a little something extra for her trouble. Cin promptly forced himself tostopthinking about that, because unlike the woman, Prince Lorenz had not left.
He stood beside the padded bench that filled much of their balcony’s central space, casually leaning one knee against it as he fixed his elegant ruby-toned vest, realigning the delicate embroidery. His outer jacket was draped on the bench beside him, but he made no move to retrieve it, smiling over at Cin like they were conspirators in some great adventure. “You knowtherearebetter methods of telling a gentleman he’s not your type than leaping from balconies... even if heisme.”
“You'd call thatleaping? Your royal highness, you humor me.” Cin decided then and there that he would just stop blushing. Enough willpower had to work, didn’t it?
“Then humorme?” Prince Lorenz retorted, and sat onto the bench. He patted the empty space at his side.
