Reentering the ballroom was an assault on my senses; the lights of the chandeliers and torches made me wince. The music seemed sudden and painfully loud, and the smell of food toted around by exquisitely dressed servants made my stomach roil.

Swallowing, I dragged my attention back to the man who was gently tugging at my hand. Keyne’s eyebrows were drawn together, worry shining in the sapphire depths of his gaze as he watched me balk at the door.

I drew in a breath, shaking off the overwhelming feelings to follow Keyne toward the center of the room. Married couples and courting young nobles caroused in pairs, all glittering and gilded in their finest clothing and jewels; nothing but the best when allowed the rare visit to the Eliseo household.

I had thought I was prepared after years of etiquette lessons, but it was different from being in the midst of them, my pulse hammering in my throat as I clung to Keyne’s hand.

My gaze skimmed over the other pairs twirling around us, chewing on my bottom lip. Though it wasn’t uncommon for nobles to have relationships regardless of gender, it didn’t seem as such during banquets. Formal pairings were strict for the necessity of bearing children, and no self-respecting noble would flaunt their affairs so obviously.

I had no reason to worry, as I was no longer responsible for carrying on my family name, but I couldn’t help being anxious as I looked up at Keyne. He smiled at me, saying softly, “Don’t worry. I told you, my reputation can’t get any worse.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel, but it was too late to change my mind. The music shifted, its tone softening from an upbeat melody to something slow and sweet. It made my stomach churn as Keyne turned to face me; he reached out hesitantly as if prepared for me to change my mind at any moment.

I could feel the heat of his palm through my clothes as it settled against my lower back, his fingers curving over my hip as he drew me closer to him. I had been taught how to lead, but there was a slight thrill in allowing Keyne that control, swept along by his graceful movements as he guided my body through the steps.

My head spun with the turns, and a gasp pulled from me as an inattentive partner nearly swept a woman into my back. Keyne pulled me tight against him, his eyes fixing the other man with a cold look that had him quickly turning his partner away from us, and I wondered if he could feel my heart race.

Looking up at him, my face felt hot, and I swallowed as I tried to control my reaction and hide how flustered I felt. This was far from my first time dancing with another, but there was something about Keyne’s firm grip on my hand, the press of his fingers into my waist, that made it feel different.

It was almost a relief when the song changed again, the livelier pace allowing me to draw away from Keyne. His gaze was intense as it focused on me, stealing my breath away as we stood still, frozen in the moment, his fingers squeezing mine. His lips parted, leaning closer, but whatever he meant to say was lost to the bark of an arrogant voice.

“What do you think you’re doing, Saville?” A hand locked over Keyne’s wrist, shaking his grip free of my hand.

Every bit of kindness and warmth drained out of the knight’s face in a moment as his gaze turned to the man holding his arm.

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern, Your Highness.” Keyne’s voice was like a breath of winter air, making me shiver as his hand dropped away from my waist so that he could face Tristain.

Their eyes were the same sapphire shade. It was a sign of royalty that bound the Saville family to the crown even centuries after a prince had bent a knee at his brother’s crowning to save his own head.

Whispers among the nobles claimed it was a waste on Keyne—what should have been a proud mark of his family’s previous royal lineage was not worthy of someone with elven blood.

It had been enough to make him worthy of being captain of the royal guard despite his heritage, but it seemed like nothing more than a reminder of the chains of his servitude to the royal family.

I had thought those eyes were beautiful on Keyne, but seeing them cold and angry as he faced Tristain’s arrogant fury, they suddenly didn’t seem any different from the crown prince’s domineering gaze.

I stepped back quickly, suddenly aware of the attention that was on us, the dark murmurs and narrowed eyes. It was what I had warned Keyne about, but it was more intimidating to be the focus of it than I had expected.

My throat was tight, my pulse racing as I looked up at Tristain’s aggravated expression. “You’re my guard dog for the night, Saville,” he said, seething under the faint veneer of civility.

Tristan’s grip tightened over Keyne’s wrist, and I winced as I realized it must be bruising and that Keyne couldn’t say a word about the crown prince’s treatment in a ballroom full of nobles who already disliked him.

“That means everything you do is my concern. Don’t slight your family name any more than you already have.”

Keyne flinched, his eyes dropping as he shook off the prince’s grip. “I understand,” he muttered, a chilly distance in his gaze as his tense, defensive posture eased. His shoulders slumped slightly, his expression empty and dispassionate, and my heart ached for the man who had smiled at me in the garden.

Gritting my teeth, I shifted my gaze to Tristain, trying to keep my tone calm. “We were only dancing, Your Highness. I don’t believe there’s a rule against—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Tristan scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest and a smugly satisfied expression on his face as Keyne wilted before my eyes. You should know how difficult it is to carry the pressure and responsibility of your family name. Ah, my mistake. You aren’t the heir anymore, are you?”

I tensed, anger and disgust sour in the back of my throat, but I didn’t dare raise my voice against him. The last thing my family needed was for Tristain to play me as a disgruntled fool.

His smirk was sharp and cruel as the prince tipped his head to the side, delighting in my silence. “At least you seem to know your place. The Saville family has served the royal lineage for centuries—don’t get in his way.”

My lips pressed into a thin line, and it filled me with disgust to repeat the same obedient words Keyne had muttered: “I understand.” It burned to submit to the smug prince, Keyne stepping subtly behind him, put in his place, just as I had been.

“Markus?” The light voice was a welcome relief from the tension building between us. A light touch on my arm drew my attention to Katrina, her brows drawn down over jade eyes full of worry. Her gaze flicked between Tristain and me, and she frowned slightly. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course it is. We were just having a friendly discussion,” Tristan said, giving me no chance to speak as he captured my sister’s hand again.

Her expression was doubtful, but she couldn’t resist as the crown prince drew her close, giving me a warning glare over her head. It made anger coil within me, feeling sick at the sight of him making such an obvious attempt to grow closer to my sister.

“I am glad you’re both here now. I’d like to make an offer to you, Katrina, and it would require your brother’s cooperation.”

Worry filtered into dread as Katrina and I realized we had fallen into a trap. I wanted to disappear back to the garden, to avoid whatever plans the crown prince had crafter.

But it was far too late as Tristain raised his voice to be heard over the music, making sure the other nobles were witness to his statement as he began an act that turned my stomach.

The nobles gasped and whispered as the crown prince bowed to my sister, bending over her hand and kissing her fingers.

“It has been a delight to spend this time with you, my lady.” Tristan’s tone was sickeningly sweet, and I knew the vapid nobles would be fooled by his charming smile as he stood straight. “It is a shame your banquet is only set to last one night, as I would enjoy the opportunity to get closer to you.”

“Ah, yes, quite unfortunate,” Katrina muttered, unable to completely hide her disingenuous tone as she tried to pull her hand back.

Tristan’s grip tightened, grinning as if she had said exactly what he wished to hear. “I’m glad we’re of an accord, Lady Katrina. If you share the same wishes, then perhaps you should travel to the capital?”

There was a rush of whispers, nobles wide-eyed and staring. It was mandated that the master of Oraeil occasionally visit the capital. However, Katrina was young, and my father was still leading the household. It was tradition to stay within the borders of Adeyl to avoid the influence of Elais’ tales and customs, though my family never made that reason public.

The crown prince seemed to have already prepared for any argument, beginning to speak even as I saw my father head toward us, no doubt to try to stop Tristain before he could say anything we couldn’t refute.

“It would be a crime for a young noble lady to miss her first season as an adult. You’ll need to marry eventually, and I’m sure your father wouldn’t want to limit your options.”

His charming smile didn’t reach his eyes, cold and calculating as he looked at my sister. “Your brother would be more than capable of handling your duties until you return, and I am sure he would be happy to provide his sister with such an opportunity. It would only be to your advantage, and the royal family greatly respects the masters of Oraeil.”

Oh no… My heart dropped, looking up to see my horror matched on my father’s face as he was unable to reach us before Tristain could finish his small speech.

“It would be remiss of me not to offer you accommodations in the royal palace,” he said, his smug pleasure as Katrina’s face paled with the same realization I had made. “My retinue is set to leave within the week, and it would be my pleasure to personally escort you to Ciyva, Lady Katrina.”

There was an immediate clamor of applause as the nobles supported Tristain’s invitation—a rare and enviable request from the royal family itself. One would have to be mad to spit in the face of the crown prince by turning it down; even our family would be marked as dissidents to the crown if we refused.

And it was as if I heard the key turning in my sister’s cage as she stood, pale-faced and trembling, in front of the man who had just sealed her fate.