Cage of Deceit(79)

“Why are you willing to help me with Grevik?” she suddenly asked. “I don’t understand you.”

He sighed. “I shouldn’t be helping you,” he muttered. “But I know Grevik is your friend, and he’s important to you. If he died, it would cause you pain, and I don’t want to see you hurting.” He gazed down into her eyes. They stopped dancing and stood there staring at one another.

Allyssa couldn’t breathe. Blimey. She was in love with Jarvik. Quickly pulling her hands free, she stepped back, away from him. His eyebrows scrunched together, questioning her actions.

“I, uh, need to go.” She turned and practically ran off the dance floor.

Marek was immediately at her side. “You can’t leave,” he said. “With the added security measures in place, you can’t slip away tonight. I’m sorry.”

She needed air.

“The doors to the balcony are open,” he suggested. “I’ll find one of your ladies-in-waiting for you.”

She understood what he wasn’t saying—that she needed not only a friend, but to be with a woman. It couldn’t appear that there was anything going on between her and the squire. Stepping out onto the balcony, the courtiers present all bowed. Two guards were posted there, and several more were on the nearby rooftops.

“I’d like a moment alone with my daughter,” Rema said from the doorway, startling Allyssa.

Everyone except the guards left the balcony, leaving mother and daughter alone.

Allyssa gripped the railing, looking up at the stars and breathing in the fresh air. She didn’t want a lecture on propriety right now.

“Are you all right?” Rema asked, rubbing her daughter’s back.

“I’m fine,” she answered.

“Do you care to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry for my behavior,” Allyssa said. “I just got caught up in the moment. I won’t let it happen again.” She couldn’t even look at her mother right now.

Rema hugged her. “I’m proud of you. I know it’s not easy having an arranged marriage. The choices you’re making are good ones, and I couldn’t be happier of the woman you’ve become. I love you.” She kissed Allyssa’s forehead. “I need to go back inside so we don’t cause an unnecessary scene. You have to have faith and trust everything will work out for the best.”

She had expected her mother to be upset with her; instead, she’d been proud and supportive of her. Allyssa watched her mother glide into the ballroom. Darmik took Rema’s hand, and her parents started dancing together.

“Your Highness,” Madelin said, coming out on the balcony. “Marek said you needed to speak with me.”

“Yes, thank you,” Allyssa replied. Once she left for Fren, she wouldn’t see her dear friend for weeks. She hoped Madelin would be safe here.

Her lady-in-waiting came over and whispered, “I suggest you go back inside and dance with someone. Now. Everyone is gossiping about you and Jarvik.”

That was what Allyssa had feared. “Of course,” she said. She couldn’t afford to have her subjects questioning her actions. Madelin reached out, grabbing Allyssa’s hand and squeezing it. Holding her head high, Allyssa went inside with a pleasant smile on her face. A Legion member approached and she took his arm, accepting his offer.

She spent the next few songs dancing with various partners, making lively conversation so no one would suspect her warring emotions. However, no matter how many partners she danced with or how much she laughed, she was acutely aware of Jarvik standing off to the side, watching her every move.

A servant approached with a tray of drinks, offering her one. She politely refused, although she was thirsty. She knew she couldn’t have anything to eat or drink unless it went through her food tasters first.

“May I have this dance, Your Highness?” a man asked, bowing before her.

“Of course,” she answered, not recognizing him.

A detailed guest list had been made, and no one was allowed to gain entrance if he or she was not on the approved list. He had to be someone of importance to be here this evening.

He carefully took her gloved hand in his, and they started dancing.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I don’t recall your name.”

The man smiled at her. “That is because we haven’t been formally introduced.”

If she had to guess, she’d say he was in his early to mid-twenties. He was of average height and weight with no distinguishing features. He had black hair, tanned skin, and dark eyes. The gentleman wore a tunic with no family crest, but it was embroidered with exquisite detail, indicating great wealth.