Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(12)
“A wolf among bears, then,” Marella said, drawing my gaze back to her. “A Firebeak among frost beasts. Something like that. In any case, you’d be wise not to make more enemies than you need to. Arcus can only protect you so much, and only weeks ago you were still fighting in the arena.”
As if I needed a reminder of how thoroughly I was hated. “And you think introducing me as a lady will make any difference to the people who were cheering for my opponents?”
She gave me a scolding look. “Oh, Ruby. How you get caught up in unimportant details. Everyone else here has a title. It does no good to remind them of all the myriad ways you don’t belong. Now, just enjoy yourself, would you? Look, it’s time for the first dance.”
Lord Regier stood on the dais in front of the musicians at the far end of the room and said a few welcoming words. “And now, His Majesty, King Arelius Arkanus, will start the dance with a lady of his choosing.”
Arcus appeared from the throng, his eyes roving over the crowd before settling on us. He looked devastatingly regal in a midnight-blue velvet jacket over a white shirt, though his shoulders were a little too broad for him to ever look truly elegant. Fawn trousers hugged his thighs above high, polished black boots. His dark hair was brushed back and he wore the silver band on his brow.
I glanced at Marella. She held herself with easy poise, but her skin was flushed, and a pulse beat visibly in her neck. A sign of nervousness or excitement.
Of course, I realized with a dip in my stomach. He was coming to ask her for the first dance. She was the official hostess, after all. Dancing with me would only further divide him from his supporters. I stepped back to make room for him to sweep her into his arms.
He bowed to her, but extended a hand to me.
“Trying to escape?” he teased, his eyes like sun-bleached cobalt as they took leisurely inventory of my appearance. Though his skin radiated cold, his gaze was somewhere between warm and melting. “I don’t fancy your chances of running in that dress.”
I glanced at Marella. “But—”
“Don’t keep them all waiting,” she said, smiling widely. If I hadn’t known her well, I would have missed the stiffness of her jaw, the tightness of the muscles around her eyes.
“Quite right, Lady Marella.” Arcus tucked my arm into his, steering me to the center of the floor. The music began and he started to move smoothly in time, pulling me along with him.
“You might have given me some warning,” I muttered, wishing we were alone so I could actually enjoy the feeling of his hand on my waist, the other hand loosely clasping mine. “I don’t know how to dance.”
“No one can see your feet. Just stay close to me.”
He moved with confidence. I felt as stiff as a wooden doll.
“It feels like you’re bracing for an attack.” Arcus’s breath tickled my ear, his smiling lips brushing my temple. “This isn’t sparring, you know. I’m not going to kick your feet out from under you.”
“Good thing, Your Highness,” I replied with an eyelash flutter, “or my dress might fly up around my ears, and wouldn’t that be a scandal.”
His lips twitched, the scar pulling taut in that way I found endlessly endearing. “And then there’s the matter of me having to duel with anyone who dared to stare at you. Which would be every man here.”
“They’d only stare because they’re afraid of me. They’re all waiting for me to melt something.”
“Ah, but, Lady Ruby, you already have,” he said, letting go of my waist to spin me in a quick circle. As I came back around, his hand returned to steady me. “You’ve melted my icy heart.”
I laughed, surprised at both the sudden spin and the remark. The glittering candles, the scent of freshly cut roses in crystal vases, and Arcus’s cool breath on my cheek as he said sweet things in my ear all made me feel giddier than usual. Warmth stole into my limbs, and I let myself relax into the rhythm, forward and back and turning, my dress billowing out behind me.
“I didn’t know you liked this sort of thing,” I said a little breathlessly. “Dancing and ballrooms.”
“Neither did I.” His tone matched the heat in his gaze, while his hand at my waist moved to my back to press me closer. His firm touch and the dazzling light in his eyes sent sparks up my spine.
“If you keep raising my temperature, I’m going to melt your chandeliers,” I warned.
“I shall just make new ones.” He wiggled his fingers toward the ceiling as if conjuring ice.
Despite the disapproving stares, I realized I was actually enjoying myself. If the king wanted to dance with me instead of Marella or some other Frostblood lady, his court would just have to accept it. After all, they couldn’t control how he felt about me. Or how I felt about him.
I let myself bask in the appreciative heat of his gaze, imagining how I could slide my palm up to cover the ridged skin of his cheek, then trail my fingers over his perfectly sculpted lips with their tempting imperfection. What would the court do if I had the temerity to kiss the king in front of all of them? The ladies would all faint, no doubt.
I wasn’t sure I cared.
“If you keep looking at me like that,” he said in a low rumble that sent shivers over my skin, “perhaps I’ll melt the chandeliers.”
“Hmph.” I shook my head slightly to clear the image of our fused lips. “That’d be a story for the history books.”