Rose and Thorn: Possession of The King (Book 1) (A Collection of Roses)
Page 6
“My, you look lovely tonight, my dear. You're the beauty of the ball,” King Alvert said.
Ressa blushed.
"I can't help but notice my son has not been by your side. It's not right for the guest of honor to be standing all alone."
"But I'm not all alone, I have you," Ressa protested, forcing a smile to spread across the old king's face. “Besides, Your Majesty, your son is a busy man. After all, it is his engagement party.”
“An engagement party for the groom and the bride-to-be."
Ressa held her tongue.
“Tell me, my dear, has the prince distanced himself from you in these past days? Have you been all alone?”
“Trust me, my king, I haven't had a moment alone since I've entered the castle.”
King Alvert smiled knowingly. “Ah, my stepson Ezra has been keeping you company.”
The color drained from Ressa's face at his words.
“My stepson talks highly of you.”
“He does?”
“Yes, he admires you a great deal, especially your treatment of the servants in the palace.”
Ressa's eyes scanned the room to find Ezra standing at the entrance door following them as they danced. Always the ever-faithful protector, he never let her out of his sight, although he was more interested in the king now. She marveled at how perfectly his body had been built, the golden hair, the quiet strength in the man’s manner.
His attention shifted to her suddenly and she found herself staring into his eyes. Embarrassed and ashamed, she dropped her gaze immediately. He would think she was staring. Worse still, she had been staring.
“Tell me, are you fond of him too? King Alvert asked.
"No! I mean yes,” Ressa blurted. “He's a good and noble man who's devoted to his family. I respect that. He's just like his cousin Cavel.” She was desperate to change the subject, but she couldn’t think of a polite way to do so. The words she had just uttered burned in her throat.
“Oh yes, my son Cavel. A man of the people … and the women,” King Alvert said and cast a sharp, angry eye in the prince's direction. Cavel was laughing now and one of the women was practically clinging to his arm. The others were staring daggers at her. Shifting his scornful gaze from Cavel he turned his eyes towards Ezra who was still standing by the door. "Forgive me, my dear. I fear my old legs tire of dancing. Please accept my replacement for the evening." He waved a hand and one of the servants appeared at his side. He whispered in the servant’s ear and the servant dashed off to the entrance door to whisper in Ezra’s ears.
Ressa watched this unfold with interest until Ezra unhinged his tall frame from the wall and came hurrying across the hall to join them. Concern was etched deeply on his face. "What is it, Father, are you feeling okay?"
“Oh yes, my son, just an old man with tired feet.” The king patted him on the back and smiled. He grabbed Ressa's hand and kissed it. “Lady Rose, please except Lord Thorn as my replacement dance partner.”
Ressa's eyes widened. Ezra’s concern gave way to a hanging jaw and a pale face. For a moment there was silence as neither made any move whatsoever.
King Alvert cleared his throat and nudged Ezra, forcing him out of his trance and into action.
"My lady, may I have this dance?" Ezra asked and extended his hand to Ressa.
Ressa forced a smile and took his hand.
“Now then, Lady Ressa, please accept my apologies. This old king needs rest.”
Before he walked off Ressa hugged the kind old king. He nodded and shooed her away good-naturedly. She watched as he made his way slowly to the throne while his nurses, who had constantly hovered around, followed.
Ezra hesitated before he led Ressa to the dance floor.
Chapter Nine
As if on cue, the strings began to work, playing a slow, seductive tune to which Ezra and Ressa both waltzed. As they danced, Ressa noticed from the corner of her eye that they were the only ones on the dance floor. The rest of the guests had formed some sort of perimeter from which they watched them.
Ressa adjusted her hands so they could settle comfortably on Ezra’s broad and firm shoulders. They circled and moved around the perimeter of the dance floor, moving in rhythm to the rise and fall of the music.
As they danced, Ressa’s head began to buzz with dizziness. She was not new to waltzes. The fact that this was her first royal waltz didn’t change that. So the dizziness she felt wasn’t a result of the spinning. No, it was something else. Her closeness to Ezra’s chest.
Ressa had never been this close to him before. Ezra stared intently, but softly, at Ressa as they danced. She looked up into his golden eyes and began to drown in them. She was taken in by the way Ezra deftly and gently guided her through the dance as if she were some precious, breakable gem. She could barely feel his hand at the small of her back. But it was there, telling her how to move and when to move. Lost to the lull of the music and the fierce warmth of Ezra’s eyes, Ressa succumbed to the fluttering in her stomach. All traces of herself, her mission, and her repressed anger towards Cavel disappeared. All that was left was Ezra, her Golden Boy. She was an open book, ready to be written on, and totally at his mercy.
They danced as one in body and soul until the tune was over. Ressa placed a hand over her stomach and tried to catch her breath.
“Worth your time, huh?” Ezra asked, blushing.
The sides of Ressa’s lips itched until they spread into a small smile.
His hands still on her waist, Ezra leaned in close to her. It was as though her heartbeat stopped. She stood still, her mind almost in a frenzy. Ezra came in closer and closer and Ressa swore that the next thing would be his lips pressed on hers. Then Ezra took Ressa’s hand and, like a gentleman, printed a kiss on it with his soft lips. Having done that, he turned to the crowd and bowed. A wave of cheers and applause erupted from the crowd and snapped Ressa out of her trance. Remembering herself, she let go of Ezra's hands.
King Alvert clapped and cheered along with the crowd in approval.
“Wonderful … again!” the king demanded. “Play them another song.” As the orchestra played once more, Ezra, feeling impulsive, reached his hands out to Ressa again. “It would be impolite to go against the kings wishes.”
With a wide smile spreading across her face Ressa curtsied to the king then took Ezra's hands.
Chapter Ten
King Alvert had hoped that his son, seeing his bride-to-be dancing with his cousin, would wise up and leave his company to offer his fiancée a dance. Sadly the gesture was lost on him for Cavel was still in his corner making nice with his new female friends.
The king turned to one of the guards attending him. “Call me my son,” he ordered.
The guard bowed slightly and walked off to deliver his message to the prince. He moved swiftly, dodging reveling guests on his way to the other end of the hall where the prince was holding court with a bevy of beautiful ladies. They were laughing breathlessly at something he had said and the prince was pleased with himself. The smile on his face said it all.
It was as if they were in another world, one different from that of the rest of the guests in the hall. So engrossed were they in their flirtations that they did not notice the small crowd that was steadily growing around the dance floor watching Ezra and Ressa move as one to the melody of the music of the orchestra.
***
The palace guard stood respectfully on the fringes of the prince’s circle, waiting to be noticed and given an audience by him. But that was a futile endeavor, for if the prince took note of his presence he gave no indication that he did. At last, he could wait no longer, so he took the risk and stepped up to the prince, interrupting the flow of his conversation with the women hanging on to his every word.
“My prince.” The guard bowed.
Cavel frowned. “What is this? Can you not see that I am occupied?”
The guard summoned an apologetic smile to his face. “Your father, the king, demands your presence.”
The ladies nodded their assent and giggled. They let their gaze linger on him as he walked away towards his father.
The guard followed behind him, keeping a respectable distance. At the other end of the hall King Alvert stood watching as his son approached. His face was as dark as thunder, a sure sign of his displeasure. Cavel’s heart skipped a beat as he neared his father and the three guards beside him.
He heaved a sigh and hastened his steps. When he reached the king, he bowed and offered him an innocent smile, which took a lot of effort. “You asked for me, Father.”
King Alvert stared at him without a word. His blue eyes burned with his anger, boring holes through his son. His gaze was so intense that Cavel felt uncomfortable. He averted his eyes from his father’s and scanned the hall wondering what he had done to deserve such a reception even after being summoned.
“Have you no manners, boy?” Willum asked finally.
It was the last question Cavel had expected. He looked at his father in surprise. “Father,” he said, “have I done something wrong?”
King Alvert took a deep breath to calm himself. He stared at his son some more wondering what it was that had set him on the path he seemed to have firmly chosen. The prince was utterly different from his father. All he had inherited were his looks and they had been refined with some of his mother’s traits. But he had gotten none of his father’s character traits.
“What day is it today?” King Alvert asked.
“Engagement day,” the prince replied blithely.
The king nodded. “I’m glad you still remember. Where, if I may ask, is your bride-to-be?”
Cavel scanned the hall again, this time more briefly. “She must have wandered off,” he replied rather nonchalantly.
King Alvert shook his head. “No, my son, she is enjoying her time on the dance floor with your cousin Ezra.”
Cavel's eyes darted across the room to the center of the grand hall where a small crowd of onlookers surrounded Ressa and Ezra. All eyes were upon them. His heart skipped a beat.
“I know you can’t satiate your sexual desires, but please respect the throne of this kingdom,” the king told him. “This is your engagement ball, act like a prince to whom a bride is to be engaged. Now go and cut in. Ask your fiancée for a dance. I'm sure your cousin wouldn't mind. Now you go out there”—the instruction was delivered in a stern voice—“and you show your bride-to-be that you are a groom she deserves.”
Cavel nodded slightly, but his father's words floated over his head. They did not register in his mind. His gaze was locked on his cousin Ezra's hand around his fiancée’s waist. It pulled up a good deal of bile to his throat.
There was a frown on his face as he walked up to the distracted crowd. He had only to speak and pat a few shoulders as he moved and people automatically stepped out of the way to let him get to the forefront where he could join them in watching his cousin dance publicly with his fiancée.
Rage now surged through his body as the crowd sighed at the sight of them dancing. To make matters worse the woman closest to him whispered to her friend, “What a lovely couple they make.” Cavel heard it and felt his chest constrict. He turned to glare at the woman, but she continued her conversation with her friend, completely oblivious to the fact that the prince and Ressa’s fiancée stood right next to her. “Look at how they move, like they are one,” she gushed. “They’d have made a splendid couple,” her friend agreed.
How dare Ezra? Cavel thought.
He watched them sway to the music. Their movements were graceful and fluid. It was as if the two of them were simply two parts of the same person, moving in easy sync with each other. The prince didn’t know that the street girl his father had decided to make his queen could dance this well. Hell, he had no idea that Ezra was this good. It would have been enchanting to watch if it didn't make him sick to his stomach.
The music could not have ended earlier than it did, but even that did not bring Cavel the relief he needed. Ezra and Ressa stayed locked in some sort of trance that held their gaze. It made him furious to watch. When the crowd broke out into clapping, Cavel decided that he’d had enough.
He stepped forward onto the cleared space of the dance floor, heading straight for the couple. The cheering of the crowd stoked the embers of his fury.
Ezra saw Cavel before the prince reached them. His quick eyes took note of the barely restrained anger on his face and his heart sank. His time with Ressa this night had come to an end much earlier than he had hoped it would.
Fool, who are you to nurse such hopes? a voice in his head chastised him. She is to be your queen soon, wed to your prince, and forever out of your reach where she has always been anyway.
Ressa was blissfully unaware of the prince’s approach. She stood there uncertainly, all her attention focused on Ezra, unsure of the next course of action.
Ezra saved her the trouble by withdrawing. He took a few steps back, away from the future queen. Ressa’s smile faltered and was replaced by puzzlement. She did not understand why he had pulled back.
“Nice moves, cousin,” Cavel accorded grudgingly.
Ezra had no reply. He knew that this compliment did not come from a happy place. No, the prince was not happy about how good those moves were. It showed on his face as he drew nearer to Ezra and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Cousin, I think it's time you excuse yourself. Or do you want to have another round of dancing with my intended?”
Ezra shook his head. To save face, he turned towards Ressa and bowed. “Thank you, my lady, for the dance.”
He walked away without waiting for Ressa to reply and Cavel took his place immediately. Now was the time to show everyone who really owned the woman and who could do it better. Quickly he grabbed her arm and flicked a finger imperiously. The royal orchestra understood the signal and began to play once more.
The amused crowd that had been on the verge of dispersing to various points in the hall turned to watch another royal dance.
“Cavel,” Ressa said. Her wide eyes betrayed her surprise to see him standing there before her.
“What? Surprised to see me?” he asked.
Ressa couldn’t offer a reply. At a loss for words, she let him guide her across the dance floor. He had the moves and grace. But he was not Ezra.
Cavel smiled in his characteristic charming way seeking to win her over. The possibility that Ressa might have even the slightest ounce of admiration or feeling for Ezra had him worried a bit. It was not because he loved her or that he cherished her company too much to even condone the thought of sharing her attention or affections with another man; it was simply because Cavel was used to being the center of attention. He was used to having ladies jostle for his attention, to yearn for it, to want to dance with him. He was also used to people knowing this. It was unthinkable now that anybody would for a moment think that Ezra was better suited to Ressa and not him.
Ressa felt a tingling sensation in her stomach, but this time it wasn't butterflies, it felt like twisting knots. With his eyes still on her, Cavel took a few steps backward, pulling Ressa tightly toward him. To impress his crowd he twirled her like she weighed nothing. A moment later, he slowed to a stop and fluidly, with his arms hooking Ressa’s waist, dipped her in front of the spectating crowd.
Held steady by the strength of Cavel’s arms, Ressa saw the world upside down for a moment. Her heart was pumping faster than usual. Then Cavel brought her up and his lips split into a charming smile.
***
Ezra took his place by King Alvert’s throne to watch the new couple dance.
His eyes locked onto the engaged couple as they moved to the melody.
“Their first dance as a happy couple. Isn't it wonderful, my boy?” King Alvert asked him. “When it’s finished, be a good man and bring my future daughter-in-law to me.”
“Yes, Father,” Ezra responded and bowed.
He watched Cavel and Ressa move gracefully about the dance floor. He was assailed by a mental picture of his previous dance with the bride-to-be and in his mind took Cavel’s place on the dance floor. He imagined his arms once again around Ressa’s waist, but before he could fall in too deep he swiped the image away. Nonetheless, his eyes remained on Ressa throughout the dance till the very end of the song. And when she curtsied to Cavel, Ezra decided to make use of the opportunity to say hello to his future queen.
When their dance was done, the crowd went wild and filled the air with a melody of cheers and applause.
Cavel was immensely pleased. He had won back his place as the man who was the best match for all the ladies in the kingdom and it had been easy. His eyes roamed the crowd looking for Ezra. When he found him moving towards the entrance of the great hall, he was disappointed to see that his attention was taken up by his second-in-command, Wesley, and not the dance. That robbed him of a good dose of the sweetness of his little revenge. But no matter, it didn’t change anything. Everybody could see who the better man was now.
“Sorry you had to suffer that last dance,” he said to Ressa and turned her in his arms once more.
Ressa breathed hard. She was unable to utter a single word even though Cavel had done more of the heavy lifting. She only kept a polite smile on her face and her attention on following his cues and surrendering her body to the guidance of his hands.