Page 52 of The Assassin's Dancer
I curtsy, meeting his gaze as he rises from a bow.
“It’s truly wonderful to meet you, Princess. You are as radiant as your father described.” He shoots me a wink as a smile tugs at my lips.
I suppose he does have a rather nice voice.
Father drones on about the potential union of our two kingdoms, and I try my hardest to pay attention, I really do. But it’s so difficult to focus while Orion’s heated gaze trails down my gown.
It’s odd. Normally, I can’t stand when new suitors do this, drinking me in with their eyes like I’m the newest wine to be had. But today, it’s different. Today his stare only reminds me of the tavern, and of course the tavern reminds me of Kasimir, and Kasimir, well...
My cheeks burn as Orion watches me with a smirk.
“If I may, Your Majesty,” Orion begins, keeping his gaze fixed on me. “It would be an honour to escort Princess Amaryllis on a walk around the palace grounds this afternoon. If Your Grace will allow us?”
Father beams. “Certainly! Amaryllis would be delighted.”
He slides a glance my way as I nod graciously.
“Of course, Father.”
And with that, I’m ushered out of the room, leaving the gentlemen to their whiskey.
The low sun warms the bench I’m seated on as it dips below the winding hedgerows of the palace grounds. It’s been hours since I was formally introduced to Orion, and feels like days since I last slept, but instead of letting me nap, my maids insisted on squeezing me into a new violet gown and threading tiny ivory flowers into my hair.
Purity – is what Martha had said the flowers represent. I almost laughed as she wove them into a crown around my head.
I’d barely waited minutes before the prince rounds the corner. He’s discarded the overcoat from our meeting in the drawing room, leaving just a thin white shirt to cover his broad shoulders.
I can’t help but sigh as he approaches. He looks good, really good, like some kind of god with his tousled golden hair and the lazy smile that works across his jaw when he sees me.
“Princess.” He dips his head in greeting.
“Prince Orion.” I rise from the bench, returning his greeting with a shy curtsy.
“It’s a beautiful afternoon,” He casts his gaze across the sun-soaked grounds. “And your father’s palace is truly a vision in itself.” He then turns back to me, grinning. “But neither compares to your beauty, my dear Amaryllis. I hope it’s alright for me to call you that?”
I nod. As if any sane maiden would take issue.
“I also took the liberty of providing our chaperone with a different meeting location.” Mischief dances across his features. “I know it’s improper for us to be alone together, but I thought it best if we got to know each other without an audience – especially considering our highly improper first meeting this morning.” He chuckles in a warm, inviting way, but it’s not enough to soften the prickle of unease crawling up my spine.
There’s a beat of silence before he tilts his head, adding, “Only if that is alright with you, my dear?”
“Yes, of course,” I stutter back.
I’m being paranoid. So far Orion’s been nothing but courteous. What’s the worst he could do? Bore me to death by speaking of politics.
Forcing a smile, I wrap my hands around his ivory sleeve. “Let’s walk.”
Orion grins. “I cannot wait to get to know you better.”
For over an hour, we wander through the palace grounds. Arm in arm, I show him the endless orchards, decorative gardens, fish ponds, and we even pass by the stables. Thankfully, Dahlia doesn’t rush out to disturb us. No doubt if she knew we were together unchaperoned, she’d have a few curt words to say to Orion, and even worse, I’d never hear the end of her teasing.
As we walk, the prince shares stories from his kingdom, and in turn I speak volumes about my sisters. By the time we’re passing the playing fields, he knows each of their names, theirfavourite gown colours, and exactly how to make each of them smile. I’m astounded when he repeats it all back to me just as confidently as I’d told him – even down to the specific way Camellia takes her tea in the morning.
“With two sugars and a single teaspoon of almond milk. No more. No less,” he recites smoothly as we pass the last field. “I told you I’m a good listener.”
I can’t help but smile. “You weren’t lying.”
Grinning, Orion pauses our steps and turns towards the vast playing fields. Nobles are scattered across them, playing croquet, while a few young servants have claimed the smallest patch of grass to kick a ball around. It’s a pleasant sight to see under the hot evening sun, but uneasiness still churns within me.
