Easy, he thought as he fidgeted with his tie in the mirror. As he went over what he was going to do, it seemed simple. Several boxes had already been ticked, bullet points achieved. All he’d done was add one to the list. The love one. He’d approach that as he had the others. Tell her that he’d been mistaken, that there appeared to be more to his feelings than he’d initially thought, feelings he assumed to be love. And, if they were, then he did indeed, love her.
He smiled at himself in the mirror. It was simply a matter of perspective. Just because he apparently loved her, it didn’t mean to say he had to veer to the emotionally unstable depths of others. He could encompass this love thing into his view of himself. With a bit of effort, anyway.
It would be fine; he nodded reassuringly to himself. He’d simply stick to his plan, explain to her that all was well in the love department, and she would agree to marry him. The rest would be history, and his future.
He paused as his eyes rose to see his own, not so certain ones, in his reflection. Ridiculous to question himself! All would go according to plan. He refused to believe it wouldn’t. He turned away abruptly and met Naseer’s gaze. He’d confided his plans to his vizier who’d agreed with them.
“It will all go according to plan, Your Majesty. There is nothing to fear.”
“Of course not. I do not fear…” He hesitated. “Anything,” he said quietly, not quite believing his own statement, because he had the sneaking suspicion that he was almost a little afraid of one person. Minds and bodies he could control. But hearts? They were proving to be very different beasts.
He strode into the ballroom and looked around. It was full already. Music failed to cover the excited chatter of people dressed to the nines. Tonight was all about coming together and had no formal component. That would happen on the next day. He scanned the room once more but failed to see her. A dark gloom fell upon his spirits as Naseer introduced him to a visiting dignitary.
He uttered pleasantries, hardly aware of what he was saying, as his thoughts raced in an entirely different direction. Had she returned home before the celebrations began? No. She wouldn’t have risked her college’s financial situation. Besides, he would have been told. In that case, she’d remained in her room, stubbornly refusing to attend something he’d specifically asked her to attend. The idea that firstly, she refused to agree to his request, and secondly that his plans would be potentially thwarted, sparked a fire of anger inside.
He’d go and find her, wherever she was, and tell her what he needed to say to her. It was all he could think about now. He was beginning not to care how he told her, his rehearsed words could go out the window, just so long as he released the burden of his words and told her. It was a fact, that was all—a fact she needed to know.
He turned to Naseer, ignoring the upturned faces of the others, obviously awaiting some response from him. “I have to go, Naseer, I—”
His words were interrupted as his eye caught a flash of red not far from him. The woman had her back to him. The red dress fell from her shoulders, exposing the creamy skin of her back, underlining it with a scoop of cowl-shaped red silk, curved just above her behind.
There was nothing in the clothes or the hair which he recognized but something in her air, the way she held herself. Then she half-turned, and he caught sight of the line of her jaw and knew it was her.
Leaving the baffled group behind for his vizier to deal with, Zavian walked directly to her. People fell away as he made a direct line for her. She turned, and suddenly he was before her. Other people in her group shuffled, muttered and, after the odd comment, stepped away slightly.
She curtseyed. “Your Majesty,” she said.
“I wish to speak to you, Gabrielle.”
She inclined her head. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
“Drop that. It’s just us.”
She looked around. “Just us surrounded by hundreds of people.”
“Ignore them. They do not exist for me.”
Her lips quirked into a brief smile. “I love the way you can ignore anything you don’t wish to see.”
“Do you?”
She shook her head. “Actually, no, I don’t.”
It was his turn to feel a fleeting smile drift to his lips. “And I love the way you change your mind. Frequently.”
“When I said, ‘I love the way you can ignore anything’, I meant I can’tbelievethe way you ignore things.”
“Ah, so when you use the word ‘love’ I shouldn’t believe it.”
She looked around but didn’t answer.
“Gabrielle?”
She turned to him. “Yes?”
“I asked you a question.”
“I thought it was a statement. Language is so difficult,” she continued. “Always open to interpretation. Words are easy to say, it’s the people you have to believe in, not the words. Anyway…”