Because why else would I feel such sudden fear merely for sitting at a table?
The hall felt too large. Even the air felt too heavy.
I only wished for this banquet to end without trouble or competition.
I wanted to go home. To eat mother's warm bread fresh from the oven. To walk to church in the quiet mornings.
To laugh with Ariel beneath the trees like we always had.
To live my last month peacefully with my family… without all this stiffness, these watchful nobles, and the endless weight of royal expectations.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as my eyes began to sting.
I lowered my head and shut my eyes tightly.
Heavens… please. I do not wish to cry.
Just then, a burst of laughter and the sound of clapping echoed through the hall.
It snapped me out of my drowning thoughts.
I lifted my head quickly, blinking in confusion.
A gentleman had risen from his seat further down the table. He walked around the long table with confident steps until he stopped directly before me.
Then he bowed politely. "My lady," he said warmly.
He stretched out his hand toward me. "May I have the honor of this dance?"
I wanted to refuse him immediately. The very thought of dancing made my ribs ache. This gown alone felt tight enough to crush the breath from my lungs, and the hall was already too warm, too crowded, too full of eyes that seemed to notice every movement I made.
But refusing him would only bring more attention to me.
And I had already attracted enough of that tonight.
So instead, I forced a small smile onto my lips.
"Yes… of course."
I placed my gloved hand into his outstretched one, and he helped me rise from my seat.
The gentleman led me away from the long banquet table and toward the center of the hall where the dance floor had been cleared.
As we stepped forward, the musicians, who had been playing softly in the corner, allowed their music to swell. The violins grew louder, the harp joined in, and soon the melody drifted warmly across the hall.
Other nobles seemed encouraged by the sound, and one by one more couples joined the floor.
Gowns swept across the marble, coats brushed past silken sleeves, and the entire hall began to move in slow, elegant circles beneath the candlelight.
My partner placed one hand lightly at the small of my back as we began to sway with the music.
"I suppose," he said after a moment with a pleasant smile, "your eyes should be on me instead of wandering about."
His arm tightened slightly around my waist as he drew me a little closer.
I stared at him, surprised by the sudden boldness.
But I quickly hid my reaction.
The last thing I wanted was to cause a scene in the middle of the king's banquet.
"My apologies," I said quietly. "My thoughts wandered for a moment."
"That much I noticed," he replied lightly.
He guided me through a gentle turn, his steps confident and well practiced.
"You must forgive me," he continued, "but you have become rather… noticeable tonight."
I frowned slightly. "Noticeable?"
His tone was teasing, but his eyes studied me with a curious sort of interest. "A lady who arrives late and captures the entire hall's attention naturally invites curiosity."
My cheeks warmed slightly. "I did not intend to draw attention," I said softly.
"No one ever does," he replied with a small chuckle.
For a few moments we moved in silence, our steps following the slow pattern of the music. He guided the dance with practiced ease, turning and stepping with the confidence of someone who had attended many such gatherings.
"You are not from Valempire, are you?" he asked after a moment.
I raised my brows. What gave him that impression?
"I am," I answered. "Why do you ask?"
"Nothing much. Just the accent," he said thoughtfully.
I blinked in surprise. "I have an accent?"
"A faint one," he said with a smile. "But a charming one too."
A small smile bloomed across my face.
"My mother is from Aetheria" I explained politely. "She used to live in the western provinces. I probably got it from her."
He nodded with a thoughtful smile. "Interesting."
His hand shifted slightly at my back as he guided me through a turn. At first I paid little attention to it. Dancing required closeness, after all, and I assumed it was merely part of the movement.
"So tell me," he continued pleasantly, "what do you think of the palace so far?"
"It is… beautiful," I admitted. "Far more magnificent than anything I have ever seen."
"And the banquet?" he asked.
I hesitated slightly. "Overwhelming," I said honestly.
He laughed softly. "Yes. It does have that effect on people who are not accustomed to court life."
As he spoke, his hand drifted lower along my back.
At first it was subtle enough that I almost believed it was accidental.
I kept my attention on the conversation. "You must attend many of these gatherings," I said politely.
"Too many," he replied. "But tonight has proven more interesting than most."
His gaze held mine with a hint of amusement.
"And why is that?" I asked.
"Because," he said simply, "there are many new faces… and beautiful ones at that."
He gazed directly into my eyes as he spoke, and I felt heat rush to my cheeks.
His hand shifted again. This time I felt it more clearly.
Lower than before.
My shoulders stiffened slightly, though I tried to keep my movements smooth so the dance would not falter.
Perhaps it was merely the turn of the dance.
Perhaps I was imagining it. It better be my imagination.
"So tell me," he continued casually, "what brings you to the palace?"
"I am here for the bride selection ball," I answered.
"I see." he said softly with a nod of his head.
We turned again as the music guided us in a slow circle.
But this time his hand did not return to the proper place at my back. Instead, it settled firmly along my waist.
I glanced up at him. He was still smiling as though our conversation remained entirely proper, when he was clearly doing the opposite to my body.
"You seem nervous," he observed.
He had the audacity to ask if I was nervous?
I had never felt the urge to murder someone before.
"I am merely unused to such gatherings," I replied evenly.
"That is understandable," he said.
His thumb moved slightly where his hand rested against my waist.
My stomach tightened.
"Have you danced often before?" he asked.
"A few times," I said carefully.
"Well," he replied, "you dance beautifully."
His hand slid again, this time settling against my hip.
I stiffened despite myself. Surely that was not proper.
Yet he continued speaking as though nothing at all had changed.
I was very uncomfortable now.
I only wanted the music to end so I could escape this dance.