“Thanks,” I mumbled, my ego deflated. Dylan laughed, spinning me again. “You’re going to make me sick,” I complained, holding onto his chest for balance.
“Sorry, it’s fun,” he said, his hands moving to my shoulders.
Ballroom dancing was very different to the dancing we had back home. Most of our dances involved six or eight people, and they were more concerned with fun and exuberance than posture, positioning and footwork.
“When you see me in my tux, all shiny like a summer star, you’re going to regret rejecting my invitation,” he teased as we practised a natural turn.
“Dylan,” I said reproachfully.
“I know, I know. I’m just saying, I’m going to look handsome, like a proper Lord,” he said. “Your rejection did result in me getting the invitation gift. All sugar cookies were mine. Ate them in one sitting.”
“That’s what’s in the tin?” I asked him.
“Did the Princess not share with you?” he asked mockingly.
She hadn’t. Selene liked to choose what I ate, even when she gave me the illusion of choice, and I had concluded that my sweets intake was being restricted. It was unfair. We didn’t have many sweet choices back home, and sweet treats were everywhere at the Academy. I wanted to indulge.
“Really? Damn, she’s one controlling bloodsucker,” he said.
“Dylan, she cares about me,” I told him.
“Yeah, about what she can get from your body. Does sugar make your blood too sweet?” he questioned. I stepped on his foot. Purposefully. “Ow! Percy, so mean! I like it,” he said, smiling smugly as we turned.
“Don’t be a jerk. You know how I feel about her,” I told him.
“Exactly, and it makes no sense. Why are you so into someone that doesn’t seem to give a fuck about you? It smells like blood magic to me,” he spat angrily.
I let go of his hand and we stopped dancing.
“That’s it, Dylan. I’ve had enough. I want her, not you. It isn’t magic. It just is,” I told him. He just couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t choose to be my friend.
And that meant he didn’t like me - not really. He liked the idea of me, whatever version of me he had created in his head. If he liked me and was interested in me as a person, he would want to be my friend. He wouldn’t push.
“Percy, I’m sorry, please - let’s just dance?” he asked.
“No, Dylan,” I said, walking away from him. It had been a long day, and dancing was tiring.
I sat at the side and ignored the disapproving look from Penelope. It wasn’t long after that Sebastian ended lessons for the day. It was mid-afternoon, and I made my way with Ana, Edward and Jasper to the café.
“They cleaned up here pretty fast,” Jasper said as we entered. Other than significant scratches grooved into the floor, there was no sign of the fight between the Halvorsen brothers.
I saw Selene across the room sitting with Lord Halvorsen and a select group of nobles, minus Orion. She hadn’t said I was to sit with her, and part of me wanted to sit with my friends, but I was feeling unsettled by Dylan. I wanted her to make me feel better, to remind me that she wanted me for me, not just my blood.
“I’m going to see the Princess,’ I told my friends.
“Really?” Ana asked, disappointed.
“Yeah, I just want to sit with her, if she lets me,” I admitted.
“I get it.” She smiled, and I waved bye to my friends as I headed to Selene’s table.
“Ma’am?” I asked as I reached the table. The table went silent, and Lord Halvorsen turned to me glaring.
“Yes, pet?” Selene asked, turning in her seat. Her smile offset my unease at Lord Halvorsen’s obvious displeasure.
“Can I sit with you, please?” I asked her, nervous that she would reject me.
“The table is full. Can you not see?” Lord Halvorsen said, and I noticed for the first time that the table was full. I had been so focused on Selene that I hadn’t paid appropriate attention.