love

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” Lady Micah asked him.

“You look…”

“Ridiculous?”

That wouldn’t have been his words for it. Not at all.

“I told my father not to force me to attend,” Lady Micah said. “I hope he regrets it. I am an Erembour. My place in is the shadows.”

And beside him, of that Bertrand was certain.

Bertrand ignored his handlers as he strode across the ballroom, determined to be introduced to the young woman.

As he approached, she turned to him and smiled. An expression that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Your Highness,” Lady Micah Erembour dipped a courtesy to him. “Where are your guards?”

Prince Bertrand stared at his spymaster’s daughter and almost forgot his own name.

That’s when he saw her.

Rather than the pretty pastels the other young ladies wore, she was dressed in scarlet. A color to warn predators that she was not prey. Her ebony hair was piled into an elaborate coif, and her lips were the same color as her gown.

She glided among those gathered, head held high, appraising them as much as they appraised her.

She was a lioness among sheep, and he wanted to dance with her.

Prince Bertrand’s father cajoled him into attending.

At least it was easy to maintain the arrogant and stoic façade of a prince.

There was little there worth his time or attention.

Maybe he could convince Hugo Aldarius and Leander Essen to get into mischief with him after the stupid ball.

Prince Bertrand didn’t want to attend the ball.

He didn’t care that all of the most powerful families and their eligible daughters were attending.

One was the same as another to him.

All puppets in their parents’ games.

And he was no different.