“I’ve been told I have a good singing voice,” he supplied, looking very sure of himself. She was becoming pretty sure of him too, especially how his dark eyes sparkled like gems, and voice flowed through her as sweet as honey.
“I shouldn’t dance with you.”
He was far too close for her comfort. Or he wasn’t. But she should have been uncomfortable with it. He was most definitely in her personal space. She also most definitely liked it. He smelled Earthy, and if she had to guess, she’d say he was some kind of shifter. Though she had no real way of knowing for sure. She’d not met a shifter as far as she knew, so would have no idea what one smelled or looked like.
“Why not, Dwen?” His voice was breathy, and she finally began to feel uncomfortable. Though not in the way she should. She’d sneaked out of the palace enough times to have at least some experience in the matter. That didn’t mean she was prepared for it though. Especially not from such a large man. She was tall herself, and he wasn’t that much taller, but that didn’t seem to help. He wasn’t even that broad, though he was clearly in good physical shape, but not overly so. Meaning it was something to do with his demeanor as opposed to his actual size.
And she liked it. A lot. But she wasn’t ready to let him know that.
“It’s not proper.” The words slipped out without them intending to, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. She’d sounded like her mother, and that really wasn’t something she wanted. Her mother lived in the dark ages. It was time to bring the Spring Fae into the light.
Or it would be. If she didn’t end up humiliated.
Drey didn’t say much, but a knowing smirk crossed over his face, as if he knew what she was thinking about. “Sometimes the best thing to do with proper things is break them.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” She drew herself up to her full height and fixed him a glare. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give in to you.”
Without waiting for him to respond, she pushed past him and stalked from the room.
“I would expect nothing less, princess,” he called after her. Aledwen’s scowl deepened. He wouldn’t be getting his way. No matter what she did, she wouldn’t be giving in to him until she was good and ready.
Two
“That’s the elvish ambassador.” The Queen’s voice was dripping with condescension.
It was a pointless comment anyway. Aledwen knew that was the elvish ambassador, because she’d spent her childhood learning to recognise the house crests of all the elvish houses. And he had one blazed across his chest. Paige, if she remembered correctly. And she did. There was no chance she was wrong after all the hours of lessons she’d been given. The white starburst on a green background was pretty iconic too. While some of the houses with the same parents had similar crests, this one was recognisable in its individuality. Mostly because House Paige claimed to be descended from the last elvish kings. Complete rubbish as far as anyone was aware, but they kept trying to make it real anyway.
The man strode towards them, a determined and somber look on his face. “Your Majesties,” he said, dipping a shallow bow that barely hinted at respect. If she hadn’t been in public, and worried that those privileges would be revoked, she’d have said something about it. But the last thing she wanted to do was end up spending the evening in her room alone again.
The elf stood upright, tall and proud. She could already tell he had a few inches on her. More than Drey had earlier. She ignored thoughts of the other man. He’d been plaguing her mind since she’d left him behind, and she’d more or less decided that if he was at the ball later, then she’d ask him to dance. It was forward of her, there was no denying that. But she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since, and it made sense to do something about that.
“What can we do for you, Master Paige?”
Aledwen cringed as her mother’s choice of words made the man sneer. Whoever he was, and for whatever unknown reason, he didn’t really seem to want to be here. And hated her mother.
“My House sends their regards,” he said stiffly.
“And ours, to you,” Aledwen replied the formal words she’d been taught as part of her training. His eyes flickered to her, the strange moss green lingering for a moment. He was surprised, she could tell that much, but she wasn’t really sure why. She was just being polite even if her mother wasn’t.
“They wish to propose a treaty,” he said slowly. His gaze slipping to the side to look back at Aledwen. She couldn’t help but be a little smug he was doing that. Though maybe it was just curiosity and not knowing who she was. Then again, Drey had known who she was already, and she’d never seen him before. And her long, honey brown hair and oval face were almost an exact replica of her mother’s. They barely looked a few years apart in age thanks to fae longevity.
&nbs
p; “We have one,” her mother said curtly, drawing a horrified look from Aledwen. Surely this wasn’t how she should be conducting herself? There was no grace to this. It wasn’t how she’d want her court to be run.
“A new one.” The man was equally as disdainful of the conversation, which piqued her interest all the more. Something had clearly gone on, whether between the fae and elves as races, or between her mother and the ambassador, Aledwen didn’t know. She wasn’t sure she wanted to either. There were some things that a daughter really shouldn’t know about.
“What’s the differences in the treaties?” Aledwen asked softly, mostly so she could beat the Queen to it and actually have a proper conversation with the elf.
“Erh...” The man glanced between the two women, and Aledwen suppressed a smile. He clearly wasn’t sure what to make of her interrupting. From her mother’s pursed lips, neither was she. But while there was nothing she could do about the past, Aledwen would smooth over whatever she could for the future.
“Well?” she prompted, being sure to keep her voice light and pleasant. Him turning on her like he had her mother wasn’t part of her plan. Though using the word plan was a little rich. She was definitely lacking one. Or even the semblance of one. She really should work on that before opening her mouth.
“I don’t think here’s the place, Your Majesty.”
It took Aledwen a moment to remember he was talking to her. Being addressed formally was something she still had to get used to. Most of her servants had known her since she was a child, making it difficult for them to be anything less than slightly over friendly. She didn’t mind. She wanted to be approachable, and the kind of leader that people were actually comfortable talking to.
“Then why bring it up?” she asked, genuinely curious. If he hadn’t wanted to discuss it, then why had he mentioned it in the first place. Her gaze slipped to her mother, who had a slightly alarmed look on her face. Maybe this was out of protocol then? It’d explain why everyone but her sounded surprised.