The Silver Crown

38.

"Princess Alyssandra." I whipped my head away from Marek to see a tall man standing on my right. His dress tunic was dark grey with gold trim. A leather belt with gold filigree spaced evenly about encircled his waist and the ends hung to hem of his tunic.

"That is me," I said, when the man did not continue.

"May I have a dance, your highness?" The man said, saying the same words that I heard from at least ten other men already.

I had been asked numerous times to dance already this evening. I did not turn anyone down, as Maurice had told me that as princess and heir I must represent my family and not make any enemies. "No matter how small or insignificant something may seem," She had said, "any slight could come back to haunt you."

"Of course, sir," I said, presenting him with my hand. He took it and I stood, glancing at Marek to see him watching, a spark of curiosity in his blue eyes.

I allowed the blonde haired man to lead me out to the edge of the dancers. He bowed and I curtsied. I was getting really tired of all this curtsying. It seemed like a waste of time to me. He placed his palm on my waist and took my hand, leading me effortlessly into the dance.

He was taller than me and had his pale blonde hair sheared long. His locks hung almost to his shoulders, which, since my hand was on his left shoulder, I could say were pretty strongly muscled. A metal pendant hung around his neck. I frowned; the symbol looked familiar but I couldn't think of where I had seen it before.

"So sir, who do I have the honor of dancing with?"

"If I told you, would you promise to remember?" he whispered in my ear.

"What do you mean? Of course I'll remember," I replied indignant.

"Do you remember the name of the knight you danced with four turns ago?" I glanced up to see him grinning wickedly.

"Sir Francis of Hirosh." I threw it out as confidently as I could, guessing all the way. Sir Charles would be so disappointed in me.

"Nice try, your highness," He said with a chuckle. "I typically refrain from correcting ladies, especially beautiful ones, but in this I feel it is my obligation to inform you that four turns ago your dance partner was young sir Hemon of Lorn."

I glanced up at the man again to find his blue eyes gazing straight down into mine. It felt like he was looking into my soul. What could he see down there?

I swallowed and look straight ahead, which unfortunately meant I was looking at his muscled chest.

After a few more twirls, the song was over. I turned to go back to my seat but he came forward and leaned in very close, his hand going back to my waist as he whispered, "You are a woman out of a dream in that dress, princess." His hot breath on my neck raised goose bumps on my skin and I pulled away quickly. He watched me as I turned and tried not to run back to Marek.

"So what did you think?" Marek asked, as I settled back into the seat next to him and sipped the wine in my glass.

"About what?" I said, trying to appear as though the hair on the back of neck wasn't standing up and the butterflies in my stomach weren't going crazy.

"About Tristan?"

I turned to stare at my brother, my mouth agape.

"I take it he didn't tell you." Marek sipped his wine like it was no big deal.

"No, the villain didn't tell me!" I spat out. "By the Goddess, he toyed with me. I won't have that! If he comes back over here, I'm going to knock him out. That'll teach him to trick me." I grinned at the image of him sprawled on the floor, his eyes wide in shock.