Page 21 of The Last Guardian

“You’re one to talk.” Lyra stared pointedly at my sparkling green gown.

I scoffed, looking around the room. People were dancing and smiling everywhere, yet the person I was looking for wasn’t there. If I saw Zaidkiel again, it would prevent me from going to see Haedeon tomorrow concerning the mark.

I was still debating this.

Zaidkiel was an arrogant jerk I didn’t know, and Haedeon was a dirty old creep I should trust.

What a dilemma!

“Aurora looks madly in love,” Lyra remarked, biting her lips.

I followed Lyra’s gaze and observed Aurora for a moment. My older sister batted her eyelashes as she smiled broadly at her future spouse, tightening her hands around his. Everything proved how fond of him she was. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was genuine.

“Indeed,” I murmured. My fingers touched the gemstone hanging on my collarbone, swirling it between my fingers.

The dance paused at last. The musicians were preparing their instruments for the next song when Arthur approached us, his dark blue tunic complementing his brown eyes. His chestnut hair fell to the middle of his neck; his beard was trimmed for the occasion.

He stopped, holding out a hand before Lyra as he watched her.

Lyra stiffened. “What?” she shot him a glare.

“Come dance,” Arthur said, his voice soft and gentle.

Lyra’s face was a blend of surprise, irritation, and reluctant mirth. A flush spread across her cheeks. Her arm, still linked to mine, tensed.

I held back a chuckle, biting the inside of my cheek at the spectacle unfolding before me.

“Why?” She grimaced with narrowing eyes.

Arthur sighed impatiently. “Come dance with me, Lyra!”

Lyra watched Arthur for a moment, debating with herself. But she finally gave in, freeing her arm from mine and sliding her soft hand in Arthur’s. His fingers tightened around hers. They headed towards the dance floor together; her shoulders stiffened. Arthur irritated her. Always had. Yet I knew it was a self-defense mechanism. She had never explained her bitterness towards Arthur in any detail.

I never asked either. Dorian had several times, but I preferred to spare myself the ensuing anger.

Arthur and Lyra had always had a peculiar relationship. They constantly argued, like storm clouds that brushed against each other just enough to spark, but somehow, they were always drawn to the other.

I had always known they liked each other; it had been obvious since childhood. But Arthur was heir to the throne, and a king always married a noblewoman.

I imagined that was why they never gave in.

Before the waltz began, Lyra stiffened when Arthur placed a hand on her waist and pulled her close to him. And as soon as the music filled the hall, their eyes never left each other. Lyra’s amber gaze flickered, losing herself in Arthur again and again as if they were the only people in this room. A soft smile curled Arthur’s lips as he whispered something to her. A soft blush rose on Lyra’s pale cheeks.

How unfair this life was—where thrones or bloodlines were the only thing standing between two people.

“Care for a dance?” a smooth voice asked behind me.

Nevan.

We hadn’t seen each other since our encounter in the Old Town. My lips still tingled from the unwanted kiss. It was time to talk to him. Dancing with him now felt too intimate—closeness I didn’t want.

“Perhaps a walk instead?” I suggested, gesturing towards the gardens.

His smile widened.

As we made our way to the gardens, the thrum of violins faded in the back. Nevan’s hand pressed on my back, stroking with his thumb. I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to make him stop, but he didn’t.

The air was cool tonight. We wandered through the leafy, flower-filled paths, away from the ballroom. The sweet scent of lilies intertwining with the roses’ fragrances danced in an invisible bouquet with the cold breeze. The stroking of my back did not stop.