The Forgotten Crown

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Morana could still feel Jovah's burning glare as she dined with Alastair. Though the captain did an exceptional job at keeping conversation, he couldn't shield her from the intensity the prince fired her way. Oh, he was pissed. Knowing that pulled the corner of her mouth upward. Let him bluster. She would go nowhere, not now, after everything she had endured. Morana Stavenger had earned her place in that ballroom.

She took small bites of the dry meats, having to dunk the venison into a pool of thick brown gravy just to get it down. Alastair would have prepared a much finer meal. Perhaps she would agree to his offer and request a private dinner for the next night if she could stomach to eat after hearing what Griselda told him.

Morana pushed that thought away before it could curdle the contents of her stomach. She ate enough to avoid disrespecting the cooks outright, but didn't dare consume the whole plate, piled to the edge. The corset was already tight enough, and she feared she could not stand if she took another bite.

The guests eventually finished their meals and took to the floor once the minstrels fired up a bubbly tune. She propped an elbow on the table, resting her cheek upon her knuckles, and watched the fae dance. Brightly colored gowns and suits weaved and bobbed together, skirts twirling in complete unison as they performed a rehearsed dance. She couldn't focus on just one person, her eyes darting between the males and females. They elegantly exchanged partners in perfect rhythm to the music.

It was like nothing she'd ever seen before. Humans had their traditions, yes, but nothing as opulent and precise. No mortal, other than King Aled Barrister's court, owned clothes so lovely. Not a single fae was offbeat, each step in perfect balance with everyone else around them. It was magnificent. Too soon the song ended, and then the fae bowed.

Morana clapped along with the rest of them, excitement bubbling within her. The minstrels inclined their chins, satisfaction dancing in their eyes. And then they were playing again.

"You can join them if you please," Alastair said next to her.

She flinched, forgetting he was so near. She blinked at him. He lounged lazily in his seat, his legs spread wide and his head tilting as he watched her. She smiled sheepishly. "I would, but..."

"But what?"

She shifted, gazing back into the crowd. "I've never danced like that before." No, Morana had never moved with such grace in her entire life. If she tried—she'd rather not think about the embarrassment she'd endure. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

Out of the corner of her eye, the captain still watched her. "I can show you?"

She turned her body to face him completely, eyes widening. Something gentle eased over his face that made her insides squirm. "I can hardly walk in these shoes." She lifted her skirt so he could examine the obsidian heels she wore. "What makes you think I can dance?"

She was making excuses. What would Warrick think if he saw them? He had yet to punish her for disobeying a direct order. Perhaps his daughter had talked him down. Or he was biding his time, waiting until after the ball to hang her by her toes in the dungeons and spill her blood all over the floor.

Alastair smiled as if reading her thoughts entirely. "I think you walked just fine, Miss Stavenger." He pushed away from the table and stood, reaching his hand out to her. "Won't you dance with me, Milady? Enjoy yourself while you can?"

Morana gaped at him, reading between the lines of his words. "You sound like the princess."

"Perhaps she has finally rubbed off on me."

A smile tugged at her lips as she slid her hand into his. "Promise to keep me on my feet and off my ass?"

He gripped her hand, pulling her out of the chair. They stood so close his breath pushed loose strands of her hair out of her face. "I promise."