Mermaid Tear (The Fated #2)

41 | The Dance

Their walk to the ballroom was uneventful. It was when they reached the hallway before the magnificent, double doors, that Iliana's heart caught in her throat.

"You'll enter separately."

The words skewered her chest with unreasonable anxiety. If she entered on her own, she knew what everyone present would see.

A siren--beautiful, and drawing in their eyes--with the mark of Zuher on her chest. She would become a belonging in their eyes before she'd said a word.

It was selfish of her, but she'd hoped that entering with Del would detract from that. Del was a prince. Who would care about Zuher's toy, when the crown prince of Cieon was present? But, that wouldn't be possible.

Seeming to sense Iliana's fear, Del held her arm a moment longer, eyes catching hers. "Don't worry. I'll only be a moment behind."

Drawing in a deep breath to steady herself, Iliana nodded. Del smiled, before releasing her and stepping away. Aria waved at the guards outside the double doors, and both were drawn back, baring the ballroom for her study.

In any other situation, she would have been awestruck.

It was richer than any hall she had ever seen. Twinkling gemlights dangled from a gold painted ceiling, illuminating a giant, two-story room. The balcony level was visible from where she stood--stretching out either side of the giant staircase her position overlooked. Tassels of bright crimson dangled from each rail, brushing the floor of the lower level and creating an illusion of privacy to whatever laid beyond.

The far wall was dominated by yet another, giant staircase that led up to a magnificent, gold-crested, onyx throne. A level below it sat several, simpler chairs, no doubt readied for visiting dignitaries, as there were no other royals that Iliana knew of.

As Iliana's attention shifted to the people--gods, how hard they stared in return--she realized they were just as enchanting as the room itself. Magnificent gowns of varying styles, and colors, lit the room as bright as any light. There were the heavy, bulky dresses of Letia, the scandalous, thigh-height skirts of Eol, even the simple, thin, ankle-length gowns of Aeolis packed between noblemen covered in dull two-piece or flashy three piece suits.

"Lady Iliana of Zuher."

She shuddered as her arrival sent whispers sweeping through the crowd.

"That's the one, isn't it?"

"--eye-catching enough. Still, I expected something ethereal."

"His Imperial Majesty must be pleased--"

Unwilling to give into their gazes, Iliana held her head high as she grasped her skirts, and descended into the ballroom. Her hands trembled into the fabric, but at least her steps were graceful. Gossip continued to reach her ears, but she refused to let it hold her attention. She would not lose so easily.

At the base of the stairs, she stilled. Emerging from the crowd, a pleased smirk on his lips, was Zuher. As always, he seemed to be a perfectly styled mess. His black hair fell in a chaotic manner, as if he'd just been running his fingers through it, and the deep crimson dress-shirt beneath his black tailcoat lacked two of the top buttons. But, it suited him.

She hated it. And she hated how he walked towards her, and offered his arm with an expectant smile.

"Shall we, Pet?"

Everything in her screamed to stay away. To ask to walk without touching him. But, they were in front of a crowd. Iliana held no illusions about being punished if she refused to take his arm. Memory of Lykos' state in the tower forced her into action, and she laid her hand lightly on his elbow, ignoring how even that indirect touch seemed to pull something from the tips of her fingers.