Blood for her Crown

Chapter Forty-Four

Grace

After having freed herself of the two awfully boring men who had cornered her into a conversation about their sons, who, apparently, were suitable husbands for her, she found herself by the table that displayed multiple elegant barrels of wine. She helped herself to a glass of the blood-red liquid and took a few sips.

She pondered over the purpose of her presence at the ball—she would have preferred to leave early and sink into her bed, but her father had forbidden her to do so until he gave her his permission. He was currently talking to Dyon, the fifth glass of wine of the evening in his hand, and threw his arms around, gesturing dramatically while speaking like a madman.

Seeing Dyon, she remembered the boy and girl who had come with him. The man with the hood and mask had been shadowing Dyon since they had entered the ballroom. Over time, she'd caught him stealing quick glances at her every now and then. A lot of people seemed to be doing so that night.

She looked around, trying to spot Dyon's brother and sister, as she concluded, in the crowd. The boy wasn't there, she realized after having searched the entire room for him. It wouldn't be too hard to find him with his raven black hair in the lightness of the room. The little girl, however, she had found sitting on a chair at the table, laughing with another girl in a sparkling red dress. They looked so careless, she almost threw up. Soon they would realize that their entire purpose in love was getting married to a powerful man, who would have little clue of how to treat a woman properly. A voice inside her told her to envy them, even though her own life was as perfect as she could have ever wished for. Well, not in that exact moment, considering she was bored to death, but overall, she couldn't complain.

It occurred to her that she might as well hide out on the balcony attached to the ballroom and escape all those people who were so desperate for a conversation with her. Unnoticed by anyone, she made it to the surprisingly empty space outside and stood at the banister while admiring the stars above her. Just like everything else, the sky seemed different than the one overlooking Azivellé—far more beautiful. Freer. Not imprisoned by the darkness spreading from her kingdom to everything within range. Her home was like a sickness only waiting to overtake her.

At some point, she had finished her glass out of sheer boredom and considered retrieving another one when someone beat her to it.

Perhaps it was the influence of the wine that she nearly swooned at the sight of the man approaching her. Normally, she could stomach more than a single glass of it before becoming dizzy.

The man had just stepped onto the balcony, two glasses of wine in his hands, as she wanted to return to the ball. His ember eyes scanned her figure until they locked with her own. It would have been the proper thing to do to introduce herself to him, but all words were stuck in her throat. Dear Gods.

A breeze brushed over them, causing a strand of his brown, wavy hair to fall across his face. It was long enough to graze his lips, which were formed into a warm, contagious smile.

"I figured you would need more of it eventually," he said, holding up one of the glasses. "There really is no other way to endure this evening."

He stepped closer and held out the wine to her, which she gratefully accepted.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

What was wrong with her? She couldn't even talk properly anymore.

"So, does the mysterious woman, who would rather stand here alone in the moonlight than surrounded by people, have a name? I'd like to know, who seems to be the only other person suffering here," he grinned mischievously.