“How shocking,” I answer, matching his smile. “I thought princes were born with the ability to dance and make idle conversation.”

He chuckles again, quickening our pace with the movement. “Not me. If I had my way I’d be in the garage or the barracks, building and training. Not like Maven. He’s twice the prince I’ll ever be.”

I think of Maven, of his kind words, perfect manners, impeccable knowledge of court—all the things he pretends to be to hide his true heart. Twice the prince indeed. “But he’ll only ever be a prince,” I mutter, almost lamenting at the thought. “And you’ll be king.”

His voice drops to meet my own and something dark shadows his gaze. There’s a sadness in him, growing stronger every day. Maybe he doesn’t like war as much as I think. “Sometimes I wish it didn’t have to be that way.”

He speaks softly, but his voice fills my head. Though the ball looms on tomorrow’s horizon, I find myself thinking more about him and his hands and the faint smell of wood smoke that seems to follow Cal wherever he goes. It makes me think of warmth, of autumn, of home.

I blame my rapidly beating heart on the melody, the music that brims with so much life. Somehow this night reminds me of Julian’s lessons, his histories of the world before our own. That was a world of empires, of corruption, of war—and more freedom than I’ve ever known. But the people of that time are gone, their dreams in ruin, existing only in smoke and ash.

It’s our nature, Julian would say. We destroy. It’s the constant of our kind. No matter the color of blood, man will always fall.

I didn’t understand that lesson a few days ago, but now, with Cal’s hands in mine, guiding me with the lightest touch, I’m beginning to see what he meant.

I can feel myself falling.

“Are you really going to go with the legion?” Even the words make me afraid.

He barely nods. “A general’s place is with his men.”

“A prince’s place is with his princess. With Evangeline,” I add hastily. Good one, Mare, my mind screams.

The air around us thickens with heat, though Cal doesn’t move at all. “She’ll be all right, I think. She’s not exactly attached to me. I won’t miss her either.”

Unable to meet his gaze, I focus on what’s right in front of me. Unfortunately, that happens to be his chest and a much-too-thin shirt. Above me, he takes a ragged breath.

Then his fingers are under my chin, tipping my head up to meet his gaze. Gold flame flickers in his eyes, reflecting the heat beneath. “I’ll miss you, Mare.”

As much as I want to stand still, to stop time and let this moment last forever, I know it’s not possible. Whatever I might feel or think, Cal is not the prince I’m promised to. More importantly, he’s on the wrong side. He’s my enemy. Cal is forbidden.

So with hesitant, reluctant steps, I back away, out of his grasp and out of the circle of warmth I’ve gotten so used to.

“I can’t,” is all I can manage, though I know my eyes betray me. Even now I can feel tears of anger and regret, tears I swore not to cry.

But maybe the prospect of going off to war has made Cal bold and reckless, things he never was before. He takes me by the hand, pulling me to him. He’s betraying his only brother. I’m betraying my cause, Maven, and myself, but I don’t want to stop.

Anyone can betray anyone.

His lips are on mine, hard and warm and pressing. The touch is electrifying, but not like I’m used to. This isn’t a spark of destruction but a spark of life.

As much as I want to pull away, I just can’t do it. Cal is a cliff and I throw myself over the edge, not bothering to think of what it could do to us both. One day he’ll realize I’m his enemy, and all this will be a far-gone memory. But not yet.

NINETEEN

It takes hours to paint and polish me into the girl I’m supposed to be, but it seems like just a few minutes. When the maids stand me up in front of the mirror, silently asking for my approval, I can only nod at the girl staring back at me from the glass. She looks beautiful and terrified by what’s to come, wrapped in shimmering silk chains. I have to hide her, the scared girl; I have to smile and dance and look like one of them. With great effort, I push my fear away. Fear will get me killed.

Maven waits for me at the end of the hall, a shadow in his dress uniform. The charcoal black makes his eyes stand out, vibrantly blue against pale white skin. He doesn’t look scared at all, but then, he’s a prince. He’s Silver. He won’t flinch.