the fuck not. I looked good (mostly). I felt good (kind of). Why the fuck not?
I said, “Dance with me.” I waggled my eyebrows at him.
He flushed. “You were dancing with the King.”
“I had to. I needed to yell at him.”
He looked horrified. “You’re going to lose your head!”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, because that happens so often around here.”
“I can’t really dance. I told you this. Remember the awkwardness? It’s awkward.”
I shrugged. “Dance with me awkwardly, then.”
Maybe I thought I saw the hint of a smile. And maybe I thought it was a nice smile.
So he bowed in front of me, and I laughed at him.
He took me by the hand and led me to the floor.
From there, he seemed unsure where to put his hands.
Because I liked seeing him blush, I said, “Anywhere.”
He went full-on red, but one hand went to my back and the other gripped my fingers and we moved.
He stepped on my foot.
I said, “Well, then.”
I counted out the waltz.
He followed, staring down at our feet.
The song ended and another began, and I said, “You haven’t run away yet.”
He said, “No, sir.”
He was nineteen. His parents were in the King’s Court. His father was a businessman who owned hotels across Verania. They made lots of money.
He said, “So I can provide for you.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he said it.
And I laughed at him again. I told him I didn’t need to be provided for. That I didn’t want to be.
“What do you want?” he asked me curiously.
Ah. Now that was the question.
“Many things,” I said, and he left it at that.
He was a better dancer than he gave himself credit for. Mostly.
But still felt… off. Because it was so nice. Just… nice.
The alcohol buzz was dampening. Things felt a little heavier now.
A third song was about to begin when Todd said, “Shall we—”
