Ksar glanced at the other end of the ballroom where Seyn was holding court, surrounded by a crowd of admirers, and had to make an effort to keep his expression blank.
Seyn was still smiling at Ambassador Denev and touching his arm. Ksar didn’t need to read the Ambassador’s mind to know what he was thinking as he stared at Seyn’s mouth while Seyn chatted with him animatedly. Like most people in Seyn’s little entourage of admirers, Ambassador Denev was a foreigner, his biology—and sexual libido—not suppressed by the bond that most Calluvians had. One day that flirty little shit was going to end up in trouble.
But he wasn’t Seyn’s minder. Ksar wasn’t his anything. Contrary to what everyone thought, he wasn’t actually Seyn’s bondmate. There was no reason for him to pay any attention to what Seyn was doing.
No reason at all.
Except Seyn was starting to cross the line of propriety, more than he usually did. If even an old, self-absorbed politician like Xuvok noticed Seyn’s behavior tonight, it would inevitably reflect poorly on Ksar, too.
“Speaking of my bondmate,” Ksar said. “I believe I promised him a dance. If you’ll excuse me, Councilor.”
Councilor Xuvok’s eyes widened. “Of course, Your Highness, of course,” he said quickly, failing to hide his surprise.
With a short nod, Ksar headed toward Seyn, projecting a mild compulsion not to engage him in conversation.
The crowd of Seyn’s admirers quieted down as he approached, their emotions a mix of surprise, apprehension, and discomfort. So they did remember that Seyn was betrothed. How nice of them.
As for the object of their affections, either Seyn was pretending not to see him or he was genuinely engrossed in his conversation with Ambassador Denev. Both options were equally irritating.
Hasty bows followed by a chorus of “Your Highness!” finally made Seyn turn his head.
He stared at Ksar as conversations around them came to a halt.
After a significant pause that felt like an intentional slight, Seyn greeted Ksar with a shallow bow. “Yes?” he said, his face giving nothing away. He somehow managed to make a single word sound extremely aggravating.
Ignoring the stares and whispers, Ksar said, “I believe you promised me a dance.” Seyn had promised him no such thing, but Ksar didn’t expect him to call him out on his lie in such a public setting.
Seyn cocked his head to the side, his dark-red cravat loose enough to reveal the graceful curve of his neck to the greedy eyes of his hanger-ons. The color should have made him look pale and washed out, but to Ksar’s irritation, it only made those green eyes appear even deeper and more vibrant.
“A dance?” Seyn said, as if he’d never heard the word before, which was rich considering that he’d been dancing all evening with his legion of “friends.” Seyn looked around demonstratively before giving Ksar a sweet smile. “Sorry, but there’s no music. No one is dancing.”
Ksar glanced toward the musicians and tilted his head slightly.
They scrambled for their instruments, and a few moments later, the familiar opening notes of a traditional sanguinn sounded.
“Aren’t they?” Ksar said, offering his gloved hand to Seyn.
Seyn slipped his hand into Ksar’s, hissing, “Arrogant ass,” just for Ksar’s ears.
“Language,” Ksar murmured.
“Fuck you,” Seyn said with a sweet smile for the benefit of the other people watching them. “You are an arrogant ass. This is not your grand clan. You aren’t supposed to give orders here. The First Queen might take exception to your bossy attitude toward her subjects.”
“I’m the Lord Chancellor of the planet,” Ksar said, leading him to the center of the ballroom as other couples hurried to join them. “Technically, subjects of all grand clans are my subjects.”
“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that,” Seyn said with a snort.
Ksar settled his hand on Seyn’s lower back. A sanguinn wasn’t a dance Ksar would have chosen himself—it was a little too intimate—but now they had no choice in the matter.
“Since when do you dance with me?” Seyn said. “What do you want?”
“I want you to stop making a spectacle of yourself,” Ksar said, leading him through the steps of sanguinn. “You were all but groping Denev all evening.”
“Groping?” Seyn said. “I touched his sleeve, you insufferable ass—” He cut himself off, and stared at Ksar. “All evening? I had no idea you were paying such close attention to me.”
Bowing to him, Ksar shot him a flat look but couldn’t refute it, because they had to switch their dance partners with the couple to their right.
When Seyn took his hand again, Ksar said, “I don’t need to pay any attention to your appalling conduct. There are always more than enough well-meaning people eager to tell me about it. You’re making me the laughingstock.”
Seyn smiled. “If you don’t want my ‘appalling conduct’ to reflect poorly on you, break my bond to you.”