On the other hand, these missions would also bring them their fated mates...supposedly. So did that invalidate the rule? It was hardly her biggest problem, she supposed.
“My mate,” she whispered, and she grinned, despite her upset. She burst into giggles and rolled over on her stomach, burying her head in her pillow. The thought was just too hilarious. Prince Dayen her mate? He was meant to become king. That would make her queen.
She laughed harder.
I’m falling in love with him. The thought struck in Cara’s head as clear and sharp as a church bell and she stopped laughing.
The next day, Cara couldn’t find Dayen anywhere. He was not at breakfast. She asked Cade and he had no idea but suspected Dayen had gone off to the terran world.
That he’d left without telling her first, his protector, was irritating to say the least.
She decided she’d check his penthouse but upon running across Philip the Annoying at breakfast as she was eating by herself, she became distracted with the suspicion that he was the threat to Dayen. The sister’s boyfriend? Perhaps he was after some power of his own, even if he had to take down the prince to get it?
She was excited when she thought of it but after interviewing Philip, Aela and Cade at length, she decided that Philip was too stupid to be a threat and also Cade insisted he’d had nothing to do with the death of Dayen’s parents, the clue that Cara could not just dismiss since Benjamin had pointed her right at it.
“Son of a bitch,” Cara muttered, pulling on her jacket. She’d asked Cade about Day’s parents and he’d only alluded to a “powerful force” and told her she should ask Dayen. But she suspected he was trying to get Day to talk. The guy obviously had not processed his grief, even after several years.
Cara grabbed her phone and wallet and concentrated for a split-second on Dayen’s penthouse. In moments, she was outside.
The doorman recognized her this time. He didn’t say a word, only smiling and opening the glass door wide, and Cara strode in from the bustling sidewalk. The elevator ride seemed too long and Cara was edgy. It was hard not to assume that Dayen was pissed. She’d walked out on him after all, and that was after running off from their stolen kiss in the garden. At best, it made her look just a little bit cowardly.
“Cara!” Nina’s eyebrows shot up as she let Cara inside. “He thought you might show, but I wasn’t so sure… Day mentioned you. He didn’t sound very happy.”
“Yeah,” Cara mumbled, blushing. “I can imagine.”
Nina left Cara in the living room and she sat down on Dayen’s pristine white couch.
She decided that if by some insane twist of fate, Day was really her mate, she would make him buy a couch that was less...sterile. The best part of Day’s penthouse was really the fae stuff on the walls, she thought with some surprise. She’d come to prefer terran stuff. She wondered if spending some time in the realm had renewed her sense of heritage and thought of her parents.
“Oh hello, vixen,” Day said behind her. She hopped to her feet and her lips twitched but something unclenched inside her. If Day was making jokes, he couldn’t be too upset. Or at least, she hoped not.
“Don’t call me vixen,” she muttered. Although she didn’t mean it. “You shouldn’t have left without telling me. I am supposed to be protecting you.”
Day was wearing some designer shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest. It was a riot of a pattern; tiger stripes and polka dots. It looked a little ridiculous with his fae features but he looked quite comfortable, his hands in the pockets of his well-tailored trousers as he smirked at her.
“I suppose you shouldn’t have run out on me then,” he said, a little harsher than he’d perhaps intended. “Someone could have attacked me while you ran back to your room after…”
“Okay, okay,” Cara responded, though she had an urge to laugh. “I’m sorry. Sorry I ran off.”
“It does seem to be your modus operandi,” Dayen said. “I’m starting to think you have a condition.” She laughed at that and she didn’t miss the fond way he smiled.
Oh, she thought. He’s flirting. That seemed to change things. She felt all fluttery suddenly and bit her lip, playing with a lock of her own hair.
She still felt a strong urge to put this off. The thought that not only were they mutually into each other but potentially mates was just too much. She was hardly used to dating.
“Do you dance?” Dayen asked abruptly. She squinted at him as if anticipating a joke.
“Do I…?” She coughed. “Not really, no. We had dances at Brunswick with other schools from time to time. But I didn’t participate much.”
“But you’re a fae,” he said, frowning. “What about the Dance of the Flower Maidens? We’re always graceful when we move. You’re even graceful when you pin me to the floor.”
She snorted at that. She hadn’t thought so. He was graceful. Even by fae standards, he moved with an effortless fluidity as if he were liquid and perhaps did not have bones.
“The Dance of the Flower Maidens is completely different,” Cara said. “It’s really easy and the flowers do half the work. Dancing with a person…” She made a face.
“Well, you might want to get used to it,” Dayen said. He looked far too pleased with himself as he turned on his heel and she followed him to his kitchen.
He put on a fresh pot of coffee and she sat on a stool by the counter, leaning on her hand and swinging her feet. She in no way trusted Dayen when he was looking this coy, and she inwardly braced herself.
“Why?” she asked darkly.
“Because my uncle Cade is putting on a ball at the castle,” Dayen replied. He seemed quite delighted about it. “It’s a tradition. The end of spring ball that ushers in the summer. It’s a chance for the court to get all trussed up and flap around like peacocks.”
“Typical,” Cara said, rolling her eyes.
“You don’t like the royals,” Dayen suggested knowingly.
But I like you, the thought cracked in her head, loud and unavoidable. She did like him. Quite a lot. What a shame.
“They’re just so…” She shook her head and apparently she didn’t need to expand on her thought. Dayen was already nodding.
“I agree,” he said, chuckling.
“A ball,” she muttered. “Ugh. I suppose I have to go though. If you’re going.”
“Of course I’m going,” Dayen said. “Have to make my grand entrance. The good Prince Dayen. I charm everyone.” He grinned at her. “Including you.”
Cara hopped off her stool, intending to come around and make herself a cup of the now brewed coffee, but on impulse she grabbed Dayen by his shirt collar and yanked him down, laying a hot kiss on his lips before shoving him away again.
“Shut up,” she said, and pressed her lips together, savoring the taste of him.
8
Dayen
Dayen was delighted at the prospect of the ball but soon realized that every bit of anticipation was centered on the idea of Cara. He liked to imagine her in whatever beautiful dress Cade would provide her with. He found that he preferred her in her beaten-up jeans and her leather jacket. That was Cara, with her cup of coffee, raising an eyebrow at him because he’d said something annoying. But he also liked the idea of her in a beautiful dress, if only because she’d act as if she didn't know she was breathtaking.
He wasn’t sure when he’d begun thinking of her as breathtaking.
Anyhow, thinking about Cara was both inevitable and much more fun than thinking about his parents. It seemed as if everyone wanted to talk about them. Grappling with their deaths had always seemed like something he’d intended on doing later, not that he hadn’t grieved. Only, he constantly tried not to think about them and in the process ended up obsessing about not thinking about them. Sometimes he closed his eyes and he saw that thing coming at them and he felt so cold…
Cara had kissed him in the kitchen but then she’d put him off. She seemed to not know what she wanted at all and as endearing as he found it (sh
e got so fluttery), it was also infuriating.
But he did end up taking her to lunch in Manhattan. He took her for sushi and they flirted and he realized he was counting the number of times he could make her smile or laugh. In the four days before the ball, he kept counting. He found that she liked being teased, which seemed new. It had been her main reason for hating him when they’d first met. Now, he often saw her stifling laughter when he took a poke at her “country ways.” He supposed it was because she knew he thought she was brilliant now.
She asked him three times about his parents and he changed the subject every time.
She seemed less amused by that.
On the night of the ball, Dayen dressed to the nines. He changed his mind about what robes to wear several times and he was mildly embarrassed by the time he took to hash things out with his tailor. He finally settled on impeccably-fitted silver robes; a long jacket with purple embroidery and a high collar that he left open, the back of it grazing his ears. His boots were new and the latest style. He spent far too long on his hair, continually checking the time and all too aware that Cara was just on the other side of the wall and getting ready herself.
Cara had seemed irritated by the very idea of the ball since he’d told her about it. Yet he had a feeling she was merely apprehensive and otherwise looking forward to it. Anyhow, he fully planned on spending all his time with her and ignoring everyone else. They could make fun of all the ass-kissers in the court (people like Philip) and drink too much wine and dance. If he was honest, he was very much hoping he would at least get a kiss out of it. Although the rest of it would be equally as delightful.
He was tempted to go knock on her door but he didn’t want to interrupt the proceedings either. He decided he’d go down to the ball and wait for her. Best not to seem too eager, he figured.
A half-hour later he was more than a little impatient.
The ballroom was decorated impeccably. The sconces on the walls lit everything in the soft pink light that the castle was known for. It made the gold filigree on the walls glitter. All the invited guests, the lords and ladies from all over the realm seemed to want to talk to him. It would be difficult to get time with Cara which was all that he wanted.
And she hadn’t come down yet.
He was on his second tiny goblet of wine and increasingly annoyed when a lady unknown to him, one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen if he were being completely objective, sidled up to him. There was something familiar about her and yet he was annoyed.
Where the hell was Cara? If she ditched the ball, he’d go right back up to their quarters and drag her down to it. If not, he was absolutely fine with spending the whole night searching for her. It wasn’t as if he wanted to be spending time with these other boring people at court anyhow.
“Your Highness,” the woman said. She curtsied low, just like she was supposed to. Cara had never curtsied once. He rather liked that about her even if it was considered very rude (though not a terrible crime). “Are you having a good time?” She smiled prettily up at him and batted her eyes.
She wasn’t going to leave anytime soon and he was annoyed.
He grimaced and attempted to ignore her, scanning the ballroom, peeking over tall heads of hair and ornate hats to see if he could spot Cara in the crowd, yet she was nowhere to be seen.
“Prince Dayen?” The lady said. Day sighed heavily and turned to look at her, if only out of politeness. “I’d love to get to know you better? If...Your Highness should grace me with his presence?” She was wearing a gown with a very deep cut in the neckline, so low that not only was there an ample amount of cleavage but it left very little to the imagination. Her ears were a bright pink where they peeked out of her lavender-colored hair. She wanted him and she was incredibly enticing.
Or she would have been before Cara.
She was rambling on and on about how nice his robes were and how he would be such a wonderful king and having decided he had met his full quota of politeness, Dayen fixed her with a stern glare and said, “My lady, I apologize but I’m not available for your amusement. I must take my leave. But if you meet a girl named Cara anywhere, please come and find me. She’s the only lady I’m interested in at present and she’s far more enchanting than the likes of you.”
It was sort of fun to use such formal language just to tell somebody to please go the fuck away.
The lady laughed. Her flawless little nose wrinkled up as she threw her head back and abruptly she transformed, her every feature morphing as he began to feel mortification like a cold, slimy tentacle wrapping right around his neck. His cheeks burned.
Suddenly Cara was standing right in front of him. Though he could not fail to notice that the gown was just the same; a deep blue that went spectacularly with her dark hair. The neckline was also the same. He tried to keep his gaze trained on her face.
“I can’t believe you did that,” he said, but he was smiling despite himself.
She was a clever girl, alright.
“You were so mean!” Cara said, still laughing harder than he’d ever seen her laugh. It made his heart swell with affection for her. “She just wanted to flirt with the prince, she was completely nice to you! I mean, how do you know she’s not a fascinating person to talk to, you barely let her talk for five seconds-”
“I only want to talk to you,” he blurted out. That caught her by surprise. A sweet smile spread across her face and she leaned in a little closer, nudging.
“That’s...sweet,” she said softly.
“I mean…” He cleared his throat. “I have been telling everyone we’re seeing each other. I have to go along with the ruse.”
“Is that really why?” She asked. He watched her eyes change from blue to amber and he sighed, feeling heartsick.
“No, it isn’t.”
He felt almost as if he were being played with. She was the one who kept running away. He supposed the two of them would keep up this dance until they couldn’t bear to anymore.
“Cara,” he whispered.
He wasn’t even sure what he was about to say, but suddenly she was tugging on his hand and brightly saying, “Let’s dance! I practiced. I asked Aela for advice. I might even avoid embarrassing myself!”
Cara tugged on his hand more. There was a small fae orchestra playing traditional folk songs on lutes and harps, and couples were already sweeping each other around on the dance floor. There was a kind of magic in the air. Dayen danced with Cara and for a while it was as if the ball had been held just for the sake of the two of them. In group dances, Cara held herself well, passing from partner to partner and smiling genuinely only when she was passed back to Dayen, who twirled her around from one end of the ballroom to the other. Her gown seemed to float around her, the glittering embroidery catching the light and twinkling like stars. They had been at it for nearly an hour before Cara finally pulled Dayen off the dance floor toward the tables of food and drink.
Immediately, Dayen was accosted by everyone it seemed as Cara took a goblet of wine and a bite of cheese off a passing platter. After the tenth person who weaseled him into agreeing to visit their manor far out of Keene, Dayen took Cara’s hand and led her away, out of the ballroom and into the fateful garden where they had first kissed. The orchids were swaying again and he watched Cara’s eyes light up when she saw him.
“I just wanted some air,” he said, sighing and sipping his wine.
“Everybody wants to talk to you,” Cara murmured. Some of her hair had come loose from its up-do and it fluttered about in the breeze and brushed against the long, pointed tips of her delicate ears.
The most beautiful of fae ladies inside and out, he thought dimly.
“They all want something from me,” he responded, shaking his head. He leaned on a pillar. It was easier to be dancing. No one bothered him. But he liked being outside alone with Cara. “Always asking favors, asking to be invited or inviting me somewhere, asking questions…”
“I have a couple of questions my
self,” Cara said. He tensed up. She wanted to ask about his parents. Again. It was a conversation he knew was coming. She had her mission and that was part of it and he truly did want her to succeed. Her expression was soft when she saw how he reacted. She raised her hands as if in defense. “Not that we have to talk about it tonight. But the fates themselves, the powers of the universe, Day, they’re the ones who have sent me on this mission. It’s not just about protecting you, you know. It’s certainly not about me finding my mate. It’s about that wood totem I have to find.”
“I know,” he muttered.
She’d told him all about that; the material elemental totems that had gone missing and which needed to be put back in their place to put the magical forces of the world back into balance.
He couldn’t help but smirk, as serious as Cara was looking at him. “Feel like I’m being blackmailed here,” he cracked. “Talk about your dead parents or the universe is destroyed.”
She narrowed her eyes, having none of it. “I tried to go to Cade and he’s being just as obstinate as you. I think he imagines it would do you some good to be the one to tell me about it.”
Just that was making his palms sweat and his head buzz. He felt too hot suddenly, out in the cool garden. He could faintly hear their screams in his head.
“Tomorrow,” he said. He had to force even that word out of his mouth and he choked on it a little. But he stood up straight and slapped an easy expression on his face. It was too humiliating to be so affected in front of Cara. He drank his wine and wracked his brain for a joke.
“Are you okay?” she asked. He was used to the flirting now. He was used to her getting swept up and then running away. But she wasn’t doing either now. She inched up to him and pressed a hand to his chest, her eyes wide and genuinely concerned. “I shouldn’t have brought it up now. I’m sorry, Day.”
“Let’s go dance,” Day said, tugging her back toward the ballroom and mostly just eager to change the subject. “Come on…”
Royal Fae Bodyguard (Brunswick Academy for Gifted Girls Book 1) Page 8
