Chapter Nine

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Chapter nine

Calm down, thinks Rayla, don't panic. Granted, you managed to get yourself engaged to Cal, but who hasn't accidentally roped their best friend into marrying them for peace? So what you're head over heels for him, but you know he only sees you as a friend? So what I've probably just ruined his life? Wait, where was I going with this?

Rayla is on the brink of a major breakdown; one disaster away from complete catastrophe. She's almost ready for the masquerade ball this evening, having taken substantially longer than expected to apply her eye makeup, trying to disguise her red puffy eyes that had yet to subside. A navy, lace mask lays on her dressing table, taunting her, reminding her that she needs to leave her quarters soon. She stands in front of her gold full-length mirror admiring her reflection and tries to decide between a silver choker and a moonstone pendant, I wonder which one Cal would prefer...

"Callum is one lucky guy." Ezran's voice cuts through the deafening silence that was beginning to drive Rayla insane.

She can see his reflection in the mirror but still turns to face the little prince, restraining a scoff.

"So he told you, huh?" She asks hoping he doesn't notice her voice waver.

If he has, he doesn't let on. "He tells me everything," Ezran replies. "He's also under the impression that you're mad at him."

Unconvinced, she retorts, "Me, mad at him? He should be furious at me for getting him caught up in my problems."

Neither speaks for a moment until out of the blue, Ez says, "You love him, don't you." It isn't a question.

Caught off guard, Rayla doesn't deny it but dismisses him nonetheless. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't love me."

"You can tell by the way he looks at you, he does," Ez smiles.

"Not the way I love him." She sounds defeated, having accepted long ago that nothing would ever happen between them.

"You two are hopeless," remarks Ez, throwing his hands in the air. "C'mon Bait, let's see if we can sneak some jelly tarts from the kitchen." Before he leaves, he gives Rayla one more piece of advice, "Cal thinks moonstones bring out your eyes." Then he sprints from her room, snickering.

-TDP-

Normally, at these kinds of events, Callum would seek out his aunt and spend the evening intently listening to her thrilling battle stories. In fact, it was these stories that had inspired him to learn sign language in the first place. However, this evening, Amaya was deliberately avoiding him, wisely keeping her distance until her nephew had cooled down. Since he and Rayla are expected to take the first dance, he waits awkwardly at the bottom of the grand staircase, unsure what to do with himself until she arrives.

He doesn't have to wait long before she appears at the top of the stairs, a picture of ethereal beauty. Tonight, she wears a silver, strapless ball gown, with a sweetheart neckline paired with long, fingerless lace gloves reaching her elbows and a matching lace mask. Her hair is pulled into an elaborate bun, revealing shiny moonstone earrings that compliment the pendant hanging from her neck. Picking her skirts up, she slowly makes her way towards him, one hand resting on the bannister to stop her from stumbling in her elegant kitten heels.

Grateful for the mask covering his crimson blush, Cal offers his arm which she takes, knowing their every move is being watched. The ballroom has fallen into a stunned silence at their familiarity towards one another that both Rayla and Callum are acutely aware of. The head eleven diplomat joins them at the front, her confident voice filling the room.

"As you all know, negotiations for the peace alliance couldn't be going better and that is in no small part due to the efforts and sacrifices made by prince Callum of Katolis and Lady Rayla of Xadia," gesturing to the teens beside her, she smiles brightly, inspiring hope for a better future in the hearts of both nations. "So tonight, it is my great honour to present the new couple as the face of unity and peace. Please stand for the opening dance of the first annual alliance masquerade ball!"

The moment she finishes speaking, the orchestra starts up a slow waltz and Callum leads Rayla to the centre of the dance floor, but her panic-stricken face tells him something's wrong.

Concern lacing his tone he whispers so only she can hear, "Rayla, what's wrong?"

Her breath is warm on his neck, and she sheepishly admits, "I can't dance."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed that chapter and if you did, don't be a silent reader! Thanks to my beta midnightpansy!

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