Luminescent (Inheritance Cycle and Beyond)

Chapter Thirty-One: Radiant

I stood tall as the sound of breaths being sucked into bodies reached my ears. Eye's scanning the crowd, I noted that some of the humans had turned white, others began to weep, and some had disbelief on their faces.

With a part in the crowd nearest the dais, my father strode towards me with a face that hid paleness. I began to walk towards him and met him halfway, taking his outstretched hand, and letting him guide me up to the dais and in front of the high class of Ûru'Baen.

"Our Empire, as strong as it has been over the last years, has only grown stronger with the arrival of my daughter," My father announced, holding my arm out to show me to the large crowd. "Princess Khensamel!"

The crowd clapped voraciously in response as I started at the back of the room. As long as I didn't make eye contact with anyone citizen, I wouldn't get dragged into a meaningless and dull conversation.

It was hard enough that I was wearing the exact outfit my mother had worn the last time anyone in Ûru'Baen had seen her, the last thing I wanted was for some idiot mistaking me for an airheaded twat.

"Let the dancing commence!" At his words, the orchestra began to play, and couples started filing onto the floor.

"I wasn't aware you kept anything of my mothers," I said quietly as the couples started to twirl about the room. My father looked at me.

"Your mother and I," He started. "Our relationship was not that of a normal one. Even after she left, I still held onto what she had left behind as a memory."

"It matters not what you are. Relationships can find their way into the tallest walls. No matter how much you resist." I said quietly. "I shall make my rounds."

I stepped down from the dais and began to walk among the guests. It was easy to pick out a group of potential suitors. They all huddled in a group, whispering to each other and giving me nervous looks.

"So you are our King's long lost daughter," A nasal voice asked interrupting my thoughts. I turned to see a yellow-haired girl in a blood-red dress over studded with rubies. The girl touched her chest. "Forgive me for not doing so earlier. I am Yilba Stronsdaughter, daughter to the King's advisor."

My eyes carefully analyzed her as I gently pushed into her mind and that of the girl standing next to her. Instantly I gauged the type of person she and the other was.

"No offense taken," I calmly replied with a smile. "I myself am still new to Ûru'Baen, and have not yet familiarized myself with the nobility."

A flash of anger flickered behind the eyes of Yilba. She wasn't used to being an afterthought.

"Your dress is stunning," Yilba replied, her eyes dancing over the material in jealousy. "Where did you have it made?"

"This is my mother's dress," I answered with a smile. "I'm afraid I do not know the maker."

"I am fond of Borcad," Yilba announced like I would care. "I find that it is highly refined and of the best material."

The girl next to her shrank back slightly and clutched at the skirts of her simple, but pretty gown. I had a feeling that her dress came from a different shop.

"Your highness, I wondered if any of the suitors has caught your eye," Yilba mused, tapping a finger to her bright red lip. "Perhaps I could introduce you to a few? They don't bite, that is unless you want them to."

Tolme blushed bright red at Yilba's words, fully understanding the meaning behind them. Was this Yilba's way of steering me away from any men she had her eyes and potentially her claws on?

"Thank you for your offer," I replied. "but I highly doubt that any one of them would be able to handle such a task."

One of Yilba's eyebrows rose in the air. With a charming smile and a dangerous gleam in my eye, I shut her down.

"You see, they might not bite, but I do." With those words, Tolme covered her mouth to smother her giggles while Yilba tried to hide her embarrassment. I spent the next hour and a half moving around the ballroom, making small talk with some of the nobility and trying hard not to smirk at the angry Yilba who stood fuming next to the man unfortunate enough to be paired with her to dance.

I drank several glasses of the wine that floated around the room and occasionally nibbled on the fresh fruit provided. I tried to find someone who I could have a decent conversation, but most of the nobles seemed to be empty-headed fools. At least the girl who had been shadowing Yilba seemed decent enough.

By the time the music slowed down, and the dancing turned to a romantic crawl, I ended up back where I started. Yilba's voice, I found, could be clearly picked out, not even elvan ears needed. Its nasally quality provided a grating sound on my ears.

"Your highness, do you not like to dance?" Yilba asked as she approached me. I looked at her.

"I do, but I prefer to dance with someone that at least provides a mental stimulus, not one whose conversation resembles a rock." Yilba's eyes twitched.

"You seek an intellect?" Yilba countered, raising an eyebrow. "Why not power? Money?"

"One can have everything in the world and still be lonely," I replied wistfully. "I'd rather be happy, then bathe in gold."

"What is happiness to you then?" Yilba straightened her posture and ran a finger over her freshly pink lips as I stilled. I wasn't expecting him to be here tonight. Actually, I was expecting him to be as far as possible from an event like this.

"I was unaware that you were in attendance," I said as I gripped my skirts a twirled them around. Murtagh had switched his leather for a black and red-trimmed tunic and pants, a combination that suited him quite well.

"It was a last-minute decision," Murtagh responded before holding out his hand. "I see you have not danced once this evening; might I inspire you for one?"

I pressed my painted lips together as I tried to keep my eye from twitching. The man had obviously overheard my comments about the lackluster men at this ball and stepped forward for the challenge. There was no way I could refuse, not in front of all these people. Giving in to request, I reached out and placed my hand into his and let him lead me to the edge of the dance floor.

"What are you doing?" I hissed at him.

"Besides rescuing you from a painfully grating voice?" Murtagh asked while I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm going to dance with you."

I resisted the urge to bark back at him as he joined out hands and grabbed my waist. Reluctantly, I placed my left hand his shoulder as a new song began. I fixated my eyes on the three buttons at the top of his tunic as we started to dance.

It was a full minute into the dance before he spoke again and the whole time, I could feel Yilba glaring daggers into my back.

"Why are you doing this, Mal?" He asked quietly.

"Haven't I done enough to you already?" I whispered, my eyes flickering up to his. He sighed; a sigh I knew was directed at me.

"You haven't done anything to me, Mal," Murtagh replied. "Will you at least look me in the face?"

No. I would not. Not when guilt riddled my mind like the weeds back in Carvahall. I pressed my lips shut and waited for the end of the music piece, which didn't come soon enough.

Once the song ended, instead of releasing me, Murtagh spun me around and started to lead me towards the open doors at the end of the ballroom.

"What are you doing!?!" I hissed quietly at him. He didn't answer as I was steered past the guests, past Yilba and Tolme, and out onto the veranda. Once outside, away from most of the eyes, I yanked my body away from his grasp and stepped back.

"Look at me," I turned my head and looked out into the garden in refusal. Eight months, several of which I believed he was dead, and I still can't look at him. "Mal, please look at me."

Stubbornness was my nature. Murtagh should know that by now. Hands seized my face and forced my head straight and up until I was looking directly into his face. My neck muscles strained as I tried to turn my face away from his.

"Mal, stop trying to turn away and listen to me." He commanded that was one way to make me dig my heels in even farther. No sooner had my stubbornness reared its ugly head than lips pressed against mine.

Shock coursed through my entire body, stilling all of my movements as my mind tried to process what was happening. One moment I was trying my hardest to avoid looking at him, and the next he was kissing me... and I was kissing back. Pulling away, Murtagh stared into my eyes.

"Did you just kiss me to make me look at you?" I hissed him as I pulled away. Something burned in his eyes shortly before he pulled my face to his once more.

Our lips met once more, this time gentler and longer-lasting. Ûru'Baen left my mind, as did the stifling night of making small talk with simple-minded nobility. Thumbs caressed my cheekbones as our lips seemed to lock into that of a dance of their own.

"Do you think I'd kiss someone who I only tolerated, twice?" He whispered against my lips as a blush dusted my cheeks.

"Shut up," I mumbled back, wanting to hide my face. Murtagh started laughing at me as a beautiful slow song started up. Murtagh's hands left my face to grab my hand and waist. "You better not be planning on dragging me back to the dance floor."

"I don't plan on dragging you back in there," Murtagh replied before shrugging. "Besides, you're the one keeping those hot-blooded women off of me."

"Oh, so you got to experience the scheming wenches of Ûru'baen?" I asked lightly with a smirk. Murtagh scowled at my smile, annoyed that I was enjoying his misery before he yanked me even closer. "Now what are you doing?"

"Giving them something to gossip about." I huffed at him as my arm started to tingle. I wrinkled my nose and pressed my face into his tunic to hide my discomfort. How did he manage to still smell like the forest?

I took in a deep breath and let out a sigh, letting my forehead rest against his chest while I closed my eyes.

"Why is it that everyone is looking at you like they've seen a ghost?"

"Because they have," I replied without opening my eyes. "My maids dressed me exactly like how my mother dressed the night before she fled the city. Considering that I am the spitting image of my mother, I might just have given them a shock of their life."

"They're not the only ones with a shock of a lifetime," Murtagh muttered.

"My apologies, Dragon Rider, if I have offended you in the past, by dressing dully," I replied sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant, Mal."

"Then what did you mean, O Mighty Dragon Rider?" I heard a groan from Murtagh before he started to pull me away from the ballroom. We walked silently through the gardens, heading in the direction of the stables.

"It is my understanding, that jewels, dresses, and whatever it is you woman put on your faces, is supposed to enhance your beauty, not make it."

"Doesn't mean that the capital females understand that notion," I muttered, flashes of caked-on lip paint and badger eyes coming to mind. Murtagh grunted in agreement before pulling me to a stop and faced me.

"You're beautiful Mal," I blinked at him and opened my mouth to respond. "And not just because you are wearing beautiful clothes and gems."

I shut my mouth, wordless.

"I thought you were beautiful long before we ever even reached Tronjheim." Once again, a slight blush ran across my cheeks as I dipped my head towards the ground. "Demonic headwrap and all."


"Don't hate the headwrap!" I shot back. Murtagh laughed before reaching up and tucking some of my hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing against its pointed tip.

"I thought you were beautiful long before we ever even reached Tronjheim, but tonight," He continued softly. "you look radiant."