Page 76 of War Hour

It isn’t hard to disappear in the superficial frivolity. Everyone is focused on the Crowns and the Heirs. Once the dancing starts, graceful steps on the ballroom floor enrapture the room.

Even I can’t deny how entrancing it all is. The way dresses fan out around their wearers as they spin away from their dance partners. How every movement seems to have been written for that exact moment’s melody.

Without trying, my gaze wanders to Evander, as if every time I look away, he seems to move into my sight. He makes hisrounds beside his father, greeting people with a charming smile that disarms. Every time he scans the room, I freeze, waiting for his eyes to beckon me from my safety zone.

But the clash of blue and gray is inevitable, and I couldn’t end my stare if I wanted to. And, for some odd reason, I don’t.

A small smile curls Evander’s lips as he scans my dress, and I shrink under his examination. I rub my sweaty hands up and down the fabric, unsure of my appearance.

Evander waves me over, and I shake my head, letting out a small laugh that startles me. When I don’t move to join him, Evander starts toward me.

Until someone steps in his way.

Visha.

Her hand slides along his arms, and I grit my teeth. She says something to make Evander give her a tight smile, but he shakes his head. His face flushes a deep red as he rubs the back of his neck.

Watching him, I can’t decide if he’s flattered or embarrassed. I blink slowly, eyes wide as I watch the interaction. A fleeting moment of triumph flashes when Evander finds me in the crowd once again but then she pulls him toward the dance floor. He shoots me an apologetic look over his shoulder as he follows.

If I needed confirmation of who Visha has set her sights on, I have it now.

Stepping into the middle of the crowded ballroom floor, Evander bows to Visha, and she curtsies before moving in closer.

I can’t name the reason it bothers me, but now isn’t the time for it. Evander is kind to me, and I don’t need to read into it more than that.

Even so, I can’t pull my fixation from Evander’s hand on her waist. I don’t even notice when someone slips up beside me on the wall. It isn’t until a voice sounds next to me that I tear my eyes from the dancing couple.

“I see Visha’s found her mark for tonight.”

My head jerks to the right, landing on Bash, who stands beside me, one leg kicked up behind him to rest on the wall.

“You know about that?” I ask with wide eyes.

I assumed what I stumbled onto between Visha and her mother was secret, but obviously, I’m not the first to catch on.

Bash frowns down at me. “Of course I do. I’ve known Visha since we were children—she told me. The question is, how do you know?”

Eavesdropping. But I won’t tell him that.

“I stumbled upon a conversation between her and her mother.”

Bash winces and groans. “Ouch, I’m sure Visha handled that well.”

I can’t stop my snort. Exaggeration of the century.

“If you would consider well to be putting a knife to my throat.”

Bash grins, a sparkle in his eye. He shakes his head, looking at Visha fondly. “Sounds like Visha.” When the smile falls from Bash’s face, I follow his gaze. “It’s torture watching her do it. Reducing herself to this person who giggles to get their attention.” He looks at me with a serious face. “Visha doesn’t giggle.”

“Then why does she do it?”

Bash inhales sharply. “Let’s just say her mom, Nennirea, never got over being Lord Nicaise’s spare. She wants her daughter to have the power she never had, even if she has to sacrifice her to do it.”

“Why Evander, then? There are plenty of male Heirs. She gets on well with Neith”—I hesitate—“or you?”

Bash laughs loudly, drawing the attention of passersby. He covers the laugh with a cough, bringing a fist to his mouth as ifforcing down the noise. Smiling, he explains in a low voice, “I’m not an option for what her mother wants. Visha knows that.”

His answer confuses me, but Lady Ivianna waves him over before I can push the conversation. Bash gives me a reluctant look, as if I will single-handedly tell his mother, a Crown, to leave him alone.

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