When his eyes met mine, the entire ballroom disappeared.
Under the brilliant chandeliers, Kaian was radiant—as if light itself gathered around him. As I stared, transfixed, his eyes seemed to trap me, hold me, claim me.
"Dance with me," he commanded softly.
My feet felt weightless as I surrendered to his lead. The waltz's tempo matched the rhythm of my heartbeat, each step drawing me closer to him. Light reflected off the polished floor, creating the illusion that we danced alone, wrapped in our own aurora.
"When did you make your debut?" he asked.
"I was twelve. With Irena—she was fourteen."
I regretted the words immediately. Kaian had shown no interest in my past on our wedding night. He hadn't even known my name.
As I fumbled for safer conversation, my concentration broke. My foot caught.
Kaian's arm tightened around me, catching me before I stumbled fully.
"Who did you dance with?" he whispered. "Your first dance?"
"The Duke of Vermont."
"You've danced since then?"
"Never. Not until today."
"I want to believe that."
"It's true. Even if someone had asked, I never would have danced with anyone as skilled as you."
He smiled like he'd won something precious.
Then I heard the nobles around us—gasps, exclamations. Their attention was entirely on us.
Kaian continued dancing, holding me close around the waist as if my misstep hadn't happened. As if the entire capital wasn't watching.
"I'm embarrassed," I whispered. "People are looking."
"Let them look."
"I should sit down. It's obvious I missed a step."
"No." His grip on me tightened. "We finish this dance."
I lifted my chin to argue, and the moment our eyes met, something shifted in his expression. His smile deepened, and I heard several noble ladies actually gasp.
*They're enjoying watching him look at me like that.*
The realization made me uncomfortable. I ate with this man every day. I slept beside him. And yet, they were seeing something I couldn't—something about the way he held me, the way he looked at me that they found remarkable.
"I want to stop dancing," I said abruptly.
His expression changed instantly, concern replacing the warmth. "Are your legs hurting?"
"I'm just tired. I woke early for the preparations."
"Come. Let's find somewhere quiet."
---
Kaian guided us through the palace's corridors with easy confidence, needing no servant to lead the way. He'd clearly spent considerable time here as a child, brought by his mother to visit the Queen.
He left us in a luxurious lounge reserved for royalty, then disappeared to attend to business.
The Duchess of Vermont sat beside me on the sofa, taking my hand. "How are you truly feeling, Claudel?"
"Very well," I assured her.
She studied my face carefully, as if searching for signs of the illness she couldn't speak about openly. The Duchess knew about Herzol, but she'd been powerless to prevent my marriage. Her worry for me was genuine and palpable.
"Your face looks good. If you can dance like that, you must be fully recovered."
I nodded quietly, grateful she seemed reassured.
"The Duke of Temnes is a much better man than I feared," she continued, raising her teacup with a smile. "He's been kind to you."
"Very kind."
"That's how affection between married couples develops," she said warmly. "I'm so relieved."
A knock interrupted us. A servant appeared. "Duchess of Vermont, the Marquis Duval awaits you."
She stood immediately. "My brother! I should greet him. Will you girls join me?"
"We'll rest here," Irena said. "I didn't eat much today and I'm tired from all the decorating."
Once alone, Irena sprawled across the sofa with a heavy sigh. "Mother will scold me for being tired. She's so nervous today."
She didn't seem upset by it, which confused me. "Irena, are you... all right? The King didn't ask you to dance."
She sat up, considering this. "You noticed too?"
"I thought it unusual."
"It was." Irena was quiet for a moment. "Sister, something felt wrong. Like he was wearing a mask the entire time."
"What do you mean?"
"The 'Bark' you met in the gardens—the one you said was kind—wasn't there at all today. It was like... a performance. My father said the King wanted to see me, wanted to welcome me. But I felt none of that."
I understood exactly. The gentle, charming man from the gardens had disappeared, replaced by someone cold and calculating.
"Why would he do that?" I asked carefully.
"Control," Irena said quietly. "The North possesses two things Oberon wants: the Northern Sea Route and territorial taxes. If Vermont becomes subject to Oberon's kingdom, the King would control both. He doesn't need to negotiate with a powerful Duke—he'd simply rule through authority."
"Would your father ever accept subjugation?"
"Never." Irena's smile was sad. "He'd starve before surrendering that power. My father is the King of the North in more than name."
"So by treating your father coldly in front of all those nobles—"
"He humiliated him. Gathered all these people, made him travel all this distance, only to show him that his daughter isn't welcome. That his alliance means nothing." Irena shook her head. "My father will never forgive that."
The door suddenly burst open.
The Duke of Vermont stood in the threshold, breathing hard, his entire body radiating pure fury. It was the anger of a powerful man forced to experience powerlessness.
"Irena, leave us," he commanded.
"Father—"
"Now."
Irena hesitated, her anxious eyes meeting mine for just a moment before she obediently withdrew.
I sat frozen, hands trembling, as the Duke approached.
"You're not doing anything right," he said coldly. "What exactly are you doing as the Duchess of Temnes? What use are you?"
His anger wasn't directed at me—I understood that. But standing before his raw fury, I couldn't help but shake with fear.
---