"She's so beautiful," Maylee breathed. "I'm so happy for her. She looks wonderful."
"She does," Griffin agreed at her side. He hadn't left Maylee since they'd emerged from the princess's chambers. When someone called Griffin over to chat, he'd more or less dragged Maylee with him. She'd been flattered, but remained silent as Griffin chatted with another politician about the recent Bellissime election of a prime minister. She watched him as he talked, though. Even if he didn't want to be here, it was clear that he could handle himself with the crowd. He looked utterly at ease, small talk coming naturally to him.
Meanwhile, she stood at his side, tongue-tied and terrified of speaking and embarrassing him.
A round of applause made everyone look to the center of the floor, and Alexandra and Luke were leaving, heading to the dais where the queen watched the festivities from her throne. An additional throne had been set for Alexandra, and she sat down, Luke moving to stand just over her shoulder.
They looked wonderful, Maylee decided. Romantic and like something out of a fairy tale. She could have watched them all night, and judging by the dreamy expressions of some of the other women in the room, she wasn't the only one.
Once Alexandra had her skirts settled, she gave a nod at the direction of the band, and the strains of another song began to play. Couples moved out onto the dance floor, and Maylee watched them with shining eyes. She wanted to etch the memory into her mind so she'd never forget it, all these expensive, gorgeous dresses and beautiful women on the arms of dashing, formally dressed men.
A hand extended in front of Maylee. "Shall we?"
She stared down at Griffin's hand, then looked at him in surprise. "Really?"
"Really," he agreed. "Though I must warn you, I have two left feet."
"That's okay," she said happily, and slapped her hand into his. "I'm not much of a dancer, either."
"Lovely," he said in a dry voice. "We shall make a terrible pair together, then."
His acerbic humor only made her laugh.
Her breath fluttered in her throat with excitement, and Maylee let Griffin lead the way as they headed out onto the floor. The song was stately, and everyone around them was clasping hands and moving closer to dance. Oh, how magical.
Griffin's hands went to her waist, keeping her a modest length from him. Unsure of where to put her own hands, she slid them to his neck.
He gazed at her for a long moment, and she felt her breath catch all over again with the intensity of his stare, even through the square frames of his glasses that normally hid his expressions. His eyes flicked from her face, then down to the necklace at her throat. "I see you haven't lost them."
His words confused her. Was that meant playfully? Or did he truly think she'd do her best to lose his jewels? "No. I've been very careful."
"Of course."
They danced, more of a swaying than any sort of waltzing, which was what she'd imagined. It actually reminded her a bit of a high school prom, and a giggle escaped her throat.
"What is it?"
"Just thinking this reminds me of a school dance."
A hint of a smile curved his austere mouth. "Oh? In what way?"
She nodded at a couple that moved nearby. "The dresses. The awkwardness. The cool kids and the wannabes."
"Cool kids and wannabes?" His eyebrow rose. "Which one are you?"
"Oh, definitely a wannabe."
"Why would you think that?"
She swallowed hard, averting her gaze from him. It was easy to do; she just pretended to watch everyone dancing nearby. "I just worry that I'm going to say or do something wrong and mess everything up. So I try not to speak."
He shook his head and his hands clasped her waist a little tighter. "No one could be embarrassed by you tonight, Maylee."
For some reason, that didn't make her feel better. "Because I don't look like myself, right?"
"Why would you think that?" He stared, his feet barely shuffling as they danced, and he was right; he wasn't a good dancer. He'd stepped on her skirt twice and her foot once, but it somehow didn't matter.
"You said so yourself."
Griffin sighed.
"Well, you did," she said defensively. "And then you drove me to the salon so they could make me look "presentable." Your words."
"You misinterpret them."
"I'm really not sure how it's possible to misinterpret them, Mr. Griffin. You just said that no one could be embarrassed by me tonight. Seeing as how I normally don't look like this, I have to think I'm embarrassing on a day-to-day basis. And you made that pretty clear by buying me clothes." Oh, now she was spewing all kinds of hurt at him. She needed to stop, but she couldn't help herself. "So please tell me how I am misinterpreting that. I may be country, but I'm not stupid."