La Nova

XIV

XIV.

The ball was dark as well, dark to match its guest of honor.

Me.

There was a sensual undertone, the cellos and violins playing a dark melody, the lighting low, the royal ballroom draped in black silk, the servants clad in black, black candles burning, a flickering cast on the faces over all.

The line to greet me was long, winding it's way around the ballroom. My mind reeled with the names and titles of everyone who surrounded me. Councilman this, Duke that, Lady this, Madame that. The elite of Trelaine had gathered to observe the kingdom's newest addition. The mountain girl, raised hidden from court. A rare gem, just like the green that glittered in her gaze.

Samson stood by my side on my right keen as a blade ready for anything to come , as I sat on a black throne, meanwhile Ursula stood at my left, introducing me to all who dared approach. I forced interest, while my mind complained of boredom, yet I continued to acknowledge the peers of the realm with a tilt of my head, a smile or smirk on my lips, a "well met" on my tongue.

I kept summoning wine, needing the liquor to keep me in a good mood, while I continued to meet and greet.

When a beautiful man, a breathtaking man with an arrogant, superior air stood before me, I knew. I knew that this must be Thierry.

My heart pounded in my chest as I regarded him. He was tall; the tallest in attendance, towering at six feet and three. I vaguely remembered seeing him at my father's funeral. A boy of fourteen, with black hair to match mine, the trademark blue eyes that my Lord Grandfather, my Uncle Kennigan, and my Uncle Hector had owned. The gene had skipped my father, blessing him with his mother's grey eyes instead of that blue.

That blue was beautiful, I could not deny, yet it sat more stunningly on Thierry. They shone like an absorbing blue, framed by long, spiky black lashes. Our hair was the same color, black-blue with a sheen of rainbow. His hung to his chin in the very same rippling waves. We had the same nose, I realized, straight and perfect. Cousins indeed. His body was well muscled, his shoulders broad. He smiled winningly, a gorgeous smile that undid me completely. Our lips were also similar, the shape of them. So ripe, so pouty. His face was a chiseled delight, as if he had been carved of marble.

Thierry d'Opica was a beautiful man, the most beautiful man I had ever beheld in my entire life. And despite the wave of attraction I immediately felt in his presence, I hated him almost instantly.

"Your Grace." He said, his voice rich and lilting, like music to my ears. I could listen to him say anything, I longed to hear him say my name. I frowned at the thought.

"This is Thierry d'Opica." Ursula said, a smile curving at her lips. "The most eligible bachelor in the realm."

"Well met," I said, forcing my eyes to remain flat and bored.

Thierry's face fell, as if he were expecting a more welcoming greeting. Only slightly, though. I noticed only because I had been watching him so closely. He smiled immediately, bowing to me.

"Your presence in Trelaine has caused quite a stir this week, Your Grace." Thierry said, his eyes dancing with some kind of emotion.

I blinked to keep from becoming mesmerized by his eyes. "Yes."

"I would like it very much to invite you on the town, show you a bit of Trelaine that I doubt you've seen in just three days."

I cocked my head, a smirk on my lips as if I'd heard something amusing.

"You intend to invite me out, my lord? On what? One of your gallivants to the Artistry District in search of booze and expensive sex?" I arched a sardonic brow, watching as Thierry's smile fell from his lips abruptly.