by Peak, Renna
But I could only think that I didn’t want my mind clouded for this. I wanted to remember every moment, every intricate detail about this night.
And now I shall, but it will be from my perch at this table, watching while everyone in my family enjoys themselves.
My self-pity is interrupted by a woman’s voice. “Hello, Nicholas.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end—I would know her voice anywhere, but I hardly expected to hear it at this ball.
Sara takes the seat beside me, and though she’s also masked, I’m sure I would have recognized her as soon as I saw her tonight.
“I’m so sorry to hear what you’ve been through,” she says, placing a hand on my forearm. “If there’s anything I can do—”
I snatch my arm away from her touch, interrupting her. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“That’s not what I hear.” She frowns, reaching out to touch me again, but I jerk away from her, almost toppling my chair, and causing pain to sear through my side again.
She lets out a long breath. “Nicholas, we never really talked. I have so much to say to you. So many regrets…”
I pretend I don’t hear her, searching the room for Clara again. I can’t even imagine what she might think if she sees me sitting here with the woman beside me.
“When I heard you nearly died, I realized that I’d made a mistake. I…” Sara lets out another breath. “I never should have left you, Nicholas—”
She’s interrupted by a man dressed in all black, who I recognize as her husband. He gives me a slight nod before placing his hand on his wife’s shoulder.
No words pass between them as she stands, looking over at me before turning to her husband. “You remember Prince Nicholas, don’t you, darling?”
He gives me a slight bow. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I didn’t recognize you with your costume.”
I give them both a single wave of my hand, effectively dismissing them. It seems to be enough to get my message across—I really have nothing to say to either of them. And possibly more surprising, I realize that I feel nothing for her. No anger, no resentment… Nothing. Clara is the only person I can think of, and speaking with Sara for the first time in ages did nothing to change that. There’s something almost peaceful about knowing I no longer have feelings of any kind for her.
Sara and her husband finally leave, and I search the room again for Clara, who I spot almost immediately. She doesn’t seem to have noticed me yet, and I watch as Caspar and she dance around the room to a festive song.
After the song ends, I startle when my brother William and his wife Justine come to sit with me. Perhaps I didn’t only dream that I’d seen him when I was recovering from my injuries.
“Brother!” William grins as he sits beside me. “It’s good to see you up and about.”
I welcome the distraction that my brother brings. It’s difficult enough having to watch Clara with Caspar—I certainly didn’t need to be reminded of my former lover and her husband as well tonight.
“I’d hardly say I’m up. Or about,” I say before I turn to his wife. “Hello, Your Majesty. It’s good to see you again.”
She gives me a polite nod, smiling. “It’s good to see you, Nicholas. I suppose I should thank you.”
“What have you to thank me for?” My brow furrows. “I’ve been in a hospital bed for the better part of the last—”
“I don’t think I could have convinced my husband to part with our twins if it weren’t for you.” She winks, though it’s probably more for my brother’s benefit. “I needed the break.” She places her hand over mine. “And I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I heard you’re part Pax now.” William grins. “How does that feel? Knowing his blood is flowing in your veins?”
I growl. I still haven’t quite come to terms with the fact that my brother-in-law was feeling generous enough toward me to help to save my life, and that he happens to be a universal donor.
William laughs at my reaction. “Trust me, we all have distasteful brothers-in-law.”
Justine elbows him in the ribs. “Give it a rest, husband.”
My brother only laughs. “You won’t believe what Reginald is up to these days. And I’m not sure his nose has recovered from the blow you gave him a few years ago—”
He’s interrupted by my brother Andrew, who places a hand on his shoulder. “Surely, we have better things to speak of tonight.” He nods at me. “I’m glad you could join the party, Nicholas. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”
The music starts again, and I have to crane my neck to see around my brothers. It’s clear that Clara hasn’t noticed my arrival, or if she has, she didn’t care to come over. Instead, she’s dancing again with Caspar.
William looks over his shoulder and back at me. “Let her dance, Brother. We’ll be glad to keep you entertained.”
“Indeed.” Andrew sits beside William. “Victoria sends her best wishes. She had to return to the palace to see to Elizabetta.”
Part of me wants to tell my brothers to stop wishing me well—I’ve healed enough to get here tonight, after all. And after I’ve rested a bit more, I have every intention of having my dance with my fiancée, especially after having just dealt with my ex and her husband.
“I saw Clara’s ring,” William says. “Isn’t that the one you found at the ruins when we were children?”
I give him a grim nod. I’m still somewhat ashamed that she’s wearing that particular ring on her finger—I’d meant to go to the treasury to pick out an appropriate family ring for her, but I never had the chance.
“I love it.” Justine squeezes my hand. “It’s perfect. I would have loved something like that from a proposal—”
“But you got something even better.” William playfully narrows his gaze. “Much better.”
Justine rolls her eyes just as playfully. “Oh, right. I forgot all about our…engagement.”
The three people across from me seem to get a good laugh about it, but my mind is elsewhere. As soon as the music stops, I stand.
“Brother!” William rises to his feet. “You should rest—”
“I can’t,” I say as I start for Clara. “I was promised a dance.”
Clara
When I see Nick starting toward me from across the ballroom, I squeeze Caspar’s hand. “He’s coming.”
My heart is in my throat. I’ve been anxiously waiting for Nick to get some color back in his face, watching him surreptitiously from the moment he arrived. I recognized him instantly, even though his elaborate mask covers half his face—I’d know him anywhere, I think.
When he first entered the ballroom, he looked so strained and wobbly that I thought he might collapse where he stood. I was afraid that if I went to him, he’d insist on a dance right then and end up worse off than before—Nick is stubborn enough to do something like that. That was when Caspar pointed out that it’s customary for me to take the first couple of dances with the man who actually accompanied me, and that gave me the perfect excuse to allow Nick some time to recover.
And so I’ve waited, as patiently as I can. And watched him sit quietly in the corner, talking to the handful of citizens who’ve approached him, slowly regaining his strength. I think he’s been watching me, too, but I can’t be sure.
Caspar continues to twirl me around the dance floor as Nick approaches. Nick’s ball attire suits him—the cut of his gray jacket emphasizes his broad shoulders and muscled arms, and his eyes seem extra blue among the details on his mask. My heart flutters as he gets closer.
“Caspar,” I say gently, squeezing his hands again. There’s no reason anymore to pretend I haven’t seen Nick—I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from him now.
With a slight bow of his head, Caspar stops and turns toward Nick, keeping my hand in his.
“Cousin,” he says to Nick. “It’s good to see you up and out of bed.” There’s none of the usual mocking tone in his voice.
“It’s go
od to be up and about,” Nick says, his eyes on me. “Clara, may I have the next dance?”
“Of course,” I tell him with a smile.
Caspar is still holding my hand, and for a moment I suspect he might tease Nick about the fact that I’m his date tonight, but then he seems to remember the promise he made before we entered the ballroom. He releases my fingers, giving another shallow bow of his head.
“Enjoy yourselves,” he says before slipping away through the crowd.
I step toward Nick, taking his hands in mine.
“You look beautiful,” he tells me.
I smile. “And you look very handsome. Though I still prefer you in your jeans and cowboy boots.”
He places one hand on my waist, and I take his shoulder, falling into position. Caspar, thankfully, showed me the basics of traditional Montovian dancing.
“How are you feeling?” I ask him quietly as we take our first few steps.
His eyes never leave mine. “Well enough to dance.”
“Good.” I continue to smile at him, but I can’t help it—I’m still going to be worried about him until he’s safely back in bed. In the meantime, though, I’m enjoying being in his arms.
The music picks up tempo, and Nick falls right into step, leading me with practiced skill. He might be fresh out of bed, but he clearly knows how to dance.
“You seemed to enjoy dancing with Caspar,” he says after a moment, his tone level.
I fight my widening smile. Perhaps it’s immature of me, but I’m secretly pleased by his jealousy. Still, I want him to know what he means to me.
“He was teaching me the steps,” I say. “I wanted our first dance to be as perfect as can be.”
His hand tightens slightly on my waist. “You dance well. Clearly you’re a natural.”
My cheeks warm. “Thank you. You’re a pretty good dancer yourself. I can’t wait to see what kind of moves you have when you’re fully recovered.”
He seems to take that as a challenge. Without warning, he spins me around, then catches me deftly before I can fall into another couple.
“Okay, Your Highness,” I tease him breathlessly. “Looks like you have some moves now, too.”
He continues to lead me around the dance floor, twirling and spinning me, and I feel like I’m floating through the air. He’s a very good dancer, and my pulse flutters as he guides me through the steps. He’s enjoying himself, too, I can tell—he’s smiling behind his mask, his blue eyes glittering.
But then, suddenly, his smile drops.
“I don’t know if you saw…” He begins quietly, then stops, shaking his head before starting again. “You should hear this from me, not from anyone else. But before I go on, I want to assure you that you have nothing to worry about.”
My heart nearly stops. Nothing makes a girl worry like hearing those words from the man she loves. “What is it?”
He squeezes my waist. “Sara is here. She came over to talk to me. It seems… She appears to believe that we have some unfinished business between us. But I promise you, Clara—”
He’s cut off by the embarrassed laugh that escapes from my throat before I can stop myself.
“Oh, God, Nick. I completely forgot she’d be here.” After everything that’s happened with Adam, Nick’s ex completely slipped my mind. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but she seems like a small issue now.
But rather than looking relieved, Nick is frowning at me. “You knew she’d be here?”
“Well, I… Caspar told me. Ages ago. To warn me, I think.”
“And neither of you decided it was necessary to warn me?”
Shame is a hard ball in my belly. “I… Well, at the time, it seemed like the best way to get you to confront your past. I was worried about you, Nick. I—”
“No, you didn’t trust me. There’s a difference.” His eyes have lost every last scrap of their humor. “This ball was supposed to be a test, wasn’t it?”
“Not a test,” I insist. “But it was obvious to everyone how much your past stilled pained you. I thought it would help you, seeing her.”
But he shakes his head. “Oh, no. Don’t act like you did this for me. This was for you—because you thought it would make you feel better.”
“That’s not fair, Nick.”
“You’re right. None of this is fair. To either of us.”My stomach feels hollow as he releases me. “I’m tired. I’m going to sit out the next dance.”
I start after him, then pause, letting him slip away through the crowd. He’s right—I should have told him that Sara would be here, but I’m also a little pissed that he’s blowing things out of proportion. We’ve both made mistakes, but after everything we’ve been through these past couple of weeks, shouldn’t we be cutting each other a little slack?
I’m about to charge after him and give him a piece of my mind when Sophia springs out of the crowd, grabbing my arm. Even with her mask, I recognize her instantly.
“There you are!” she exclaims, pulling me back among the dancers. “You have to do this one with me, Clara. It’s my favorite!”
“Where’s Pax?” I ask.
“He’s not big on dancing. I’m giving him a break.” She grins at me. “But this one is so fun! You switch partners over and over and it gets faster and faster as the song goes on. Everyone always ends up laughing and out of breath by the end!”
I really should go talk to Nick, but Sophia’s energy is infectious. And why shouldn’t I enjoy myself just because Nick is being a grump and getting mad about water under the bridge? I came here to have fun, to forget about my troubles for a night and live in the fantasy.
“Okay,” I tell her as she tugs me straight toward a pair of men in colorful masks. “But I don’t know any of the steps.”
“You don’t have to. Just follow your partner.” She gives a sweet smile to the two men, who give her deep, respectful bows.
One of them holds a hand out to me. “My lady? Do you care to…?”
I’m probably going to make a fool of myself, but who cares? Do any of these people actually expect the random American girl to know what she’s doing?
Forcing a smile, I take the man’s hand. And fight the urge to look over and see if Nick is watching.
All around the ballroom, couples are taking their places in a large circle. I let my partner lead the way, and as the music sweeps up in a crescendo, I follow his lead—and that of Sophia beside me—and figure out the steps as I go.
Sophia is right—the dance is fun. After a couple of rounds, I feel comfortable with the steps, and after that, I don’t have to think about them anymore. And my argument with Nick feels like a distant memory. My partner leads me through them twice before passing me on to the next masked man, and the process repeats itself, only a little faster this time.
By my fourth partner, I’m giggling as I go through the steps. My heart is beating in my ears, my head a little woozy from all the spinning. But I’m loving every minute of this. I can hear Sophia laughing nearby as she’s spun about by her current partner.
Faster and faster the music goes, faster and faster the steps. My partners go back in a blur—a man in a mask painted like a leopard’s face, then one whose mask is covered in gold feathers, then one whose mask is simply painted on his face in intricate detail. Young men, old men, and everywhere in between. I have no idea who any of them are, but that doesn’t seem to matter—in this dance, everyone’s friends.
And then I’m passed to a man wearing a mask painted like a demon’s face. I’m laughing so hard that I don’t even get a good look at him at first, but something about the way he grips my waist—too hard, like he’s actually trying to cause me pain—makes me take a second look at him.
Adam’s eyes stare back at me from behind that terrifying mask.
I stumble. But before I can say anything, before I can even be certain of what I saw, we’ve switched partners again. My new partner sweeps me up into a spin, and by the time I’m back where I star
ted, there’s no sign of Adam—or anyone in a demon mask—anywhere near me.
Did I just imagine him?
I’m not given any time to think. This music is going so quickly now that I’m being passed from one partner to the next every ten seconds, and even though I can hear Sophia laughing so much she can hardly catch her breath, this dance has lost all of its joy for me. My eyes keep searching for that demon mask, but I don’t see it anywhere. And a glance back toward the table where Nick is sitting shows nothing amiss.
You’re just being paranoid, I tell myself. Caspar told you himself—the guards are checking everyone who comes into the ballroom. And they’re stationed at every door and window. There’s no way Adam could be here.
But I can’t shake the feeling in my gut, and I’m only too happy when the dance finally comes to an end.
Nicholas
Something is wrong.
I can see the tension in Clara’s body as she comes to my table, finally taking the seat beside me.
She gives me a stiff smile. “That was fun.”
Her expression says her experience was anything but “fun.”
I slide my arm around her waist, and I feel her tremble beneath my touch. I tip my head toward hers. “What is it?”
She gives a slight shake of her head, but says nothing more.
Sophia comes to sit with Pax a moment later, and she laughs as she plants a kiss on his cheek. “You should have joined us. Next time—”
“Pass.” Pax gives me a tight-lipped smile as he raises his glass of beer in my direction before taking a drink. He sets it down, turning to his wife. “You’re allowed to do that one all by yourself.”
“Then perhaps I can interest you in another waltz?” She motions with her head toward the dance floor. “Something a little slower paced for my rock star husband?”
“Fine.” He takes another quick drink of his beer before joining my sister for the next dance.
