It’s like he read my thoughts, summed them up, and spit them back at me. I glare at him. I know he’s right, and he knows it too.
He must see the fight leave my eyes because a smile twists his lips. “Good to see you’ve come to your senses. Let’s go then.”
I brush past his shoulder with my head held high. I chose to do this, not him, and he needs to remember that. “Where are we going?” I ask as he begins leading me down the hallway. At the end of it, we climb a wide spiral staircase draped in velvet, emerald carpet.
The shadow of a smile settles on his face. “Somewhere with enough room for you to fall all over the place.”
When we reach the top of the stairs, I’m led down a wide hallway lined with paintings and pearly molding clinging to the walls and ceiling. My eyes sweep over the thin layer of dust covering the frames littering the wall.
It has been a while since anyone’s been up here.
This floor happens to be one of the few that I haven’t yet explored, seeing that I’ve crept out of my room multiple times in the dead of night to learn the layout of the castle and its possible exits. Call it my personality or paranoia, but being unaware of my surroundings scares me nearly as much as the Trials.
Since Lenny doesn’t guard my door, I can’t resist the urge to snoop. In fact, I don’t see my Imperial much at all, and surprisingly, the thought sends a sudden jolt of sadness through me. I’m shocked by how much I genuinely enjoy his company and even more shocked by the fact that I would think such things about an Imperial.
An uneven rug catches my foot, sending the floor flying towards my face. I’m about to sprawl onto the spiral-patterned rug when an arm slides around my middle, firm and feeling annoyingly familiar.
“There’s that clumsy footwork we’re trying to rid you of,” Kai says, the smirk evident in his voice. He sets me on my feet, steadying me with a hand that I push away, flustered and feeling the need to put some space between us.
He holds his hands up and takes a mocking step back before turning to head down the hall once again. As we continue walking, the question I’ve been waiting to ask finally slips past my lips. “Why are you doing this?”
Kai halts in front of me. He turns slowly, looking almost amused by the question. “It’s simple, really. You’re attending this ball with my brother, and he needs to look the best he is able.”
I study his face, stare as a sliver of his mask cracks, displaying all the love and devotion for his brother, all the lengths he is willing to go for him. It’s as if he has a duty to fulfill, as if he is already the Enforcer and this is far bigger than just stopping me from stepping on his brother’s toes.
And then his mask is suddenly back up, and I’m staring at that cool face once again, void of the emotion once there. When I can’t think of a retort, I begin walking instead. We make a right down a smaller corridor and head to the very last door on the left. He grips the handle and swings it open, revealing a bedroom beyond, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window.
If I thought my room was magnificent, it pales in comparison to this. It’s easily twice the size of my own, making it seem more like a house than a single bedroom. Though it’s filled with a four-poster bed, dresser, and a desk—just as mine is—this room seems lived in. The shelf is overflowing, books stacked at odd angles to make them fit. Several of their worn covers tell me they consist of strategy, combat, and…poetry.
Interesting.
Everything filling the room is nicer than my own, yet used and worn.
This is his room—his real room.
The desk is covered in dark ink stains, and suits of armor are piled in the corner. My eyes scan over the large slices covering the posts of the bed where chunks of dark wood are missing.
Sword slashes.
He’s taken a blunt sword the bedposts. Multiple times.
I suppose that is better than taking a sword to a human, though I’m sure he does that as well. My eyes finally flick back to Kai. He’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me curiously as I stand in the middle of his room, though I don’t remember walking so far into it.
I nod my head towards the chipped wooden posts of his massive bed, not knowing what to say under his stare. “Interesting way to relieve stress.”
“So is punching a pad till your fists bleed.” He gives me a faint smile as he strolls across the room to his desk, hands in pockets, before he begins fiddling with the contraption on top of it—one that I recognize.
Father had a record player, one with a wide golden horn I used to stick my head into as a child. He made decent money as the respected Healer in the slums, but the record player was still the nicest thing we owned. Years ago, he used to plop my feet on top of his so we could dance around the kitchen. Well, he would dance. I was just along for the ride. But he never got the chance to truly teach me how to dance without literally stepping on anyone’s feet.
The crackling of the needle hitting a record is familiar, though the sound of the smooth waltz that follows is not. Kai turns around, casually unbuttoning half his shirt and sending my eyes searching for anything to stare at other than his tanned chest and swirling tattoo.
And then he’s suddenly before me, surveying me from head to toe with a slight smile that displays the deeper dimple on his right cheek. His stare is like a caress, and he takes his time. I refuse to squirm under that piercing gaze, knowing how he would love to watch me fidget.
Not wanting to be outdone, I drag my eyes over his strong facial features and even stronger body beneath. Everything about him is lethal. That smile. Those eyes. That cunning mind of his.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to focus on dancing, or will I be too much of a distraction, darling?”
His words startle me, and my eyes shoot back to his. I huff. “I think I’ll manage, thanks.”
He gives me a doubtful look. “I guess we will find out, won’t we?” I expect him to reach out and pull me into a dance, and the thought has my heart pounding, has me preparing to feel his hands on my body.
But he doesn’t move, doesn’t try to close the distance between us.
Good.
“For now, you will start by just learning the steps to the average waltz,” he says. “Mostly because I don’t want you stomping on my toes.”
With his hands still in his pockets, Kai steps in and out, side to side, showing me the basics. He’s so graceful, so elegant, so natural.
Fighting. Fighting is also a dance to him.
I feel stiff and suddenly so unsure of myself. Even with his hands still in his pockets, Kai easily steps in time with me, though he doesn’t dare get close enough to be trampled by my clumsy footing.
I sigh, irritated with myself and the smirking prince in front of me.
“Relax,” Kai murmurs from across me with more than a hint of humor in his voice. “You’re thinking too much. Don’t calculate, just move with the music.” I look up to see him already staring at me with a grin. “Also, you do know this is a dance, correct? So, no fighting stance is necessary.”
Only then do I notice how tight and poised my body is, hands slightly raised as though readying to strike. I straighten and run a hand through the strands of hair falling out of my loose braid. I’m oddly…nervous. And it’s maddeningly annoying.