Twisted-Games

partners had picked up on my wandering attention, and I’d assumed he
wouldn’t either. “That was terribly rude of me.”
“No apologies necessary, Your Highness.” Steffan’s eyes crinkled in a
good-natured smile. “I must admit, I could’ve come up with a better
conversation topic than the history of neoclassicism. That’s what happens
when I’m nervous. I spout all sorts of useless facts.”
I laughed. “There are worse ways to deal with nerves, I suppose.”
My skin suddenly burned, and I stumbled for a second before I caught
myself.
“Are you all right?” Steffan asked, looking concerned.
I nodded, forcing myself not to look at Rhys, but I could feel the heat of
his stare on my back.
Focus on Steffan. He was the most enjoyable dance partner I’d had all
night, and he checked every box for an eligible Prince Consort: funny,
charming, and handsome, not to mention the bluest of blue bloods.
I liked him. I just didn’t like him romantically.
“It seems our time has come to an end,” Steffan said when the music
wound down. The night was finally over. “But perhaps we could go out
sometime, just the two of us? The new skating rink on Nyhausen is quite
nice, and they serve the best hot chocolate in the city.”
A date.
I wanted to say no because I didn’t want to lead him on, but that was the
whole point of the ball—to find a husband, and I couldn’t get a husband
without dating first.
“That sounds lovely,” I said.
Steffan grinned. “Excellent. I’ll call you later and we’ll set up the
details.”
“It’s a plan.”
I left to give my closing speech thanking everyone for attending, and after
the guests filtered out one by one, I hurried out of the ballroom, eager to
leave before Elin could get a hold of me.
I made it halfway to the exit before someone blocked my path.
“Your Highness.”
I stifled a groan. “Lord Erhall.”
The Speaker of Parliament stared down his nose at me. He was a tall,
spindly man with graying hair and eyes like a reptile’s, cold and predatory.
He was also one of the most powerful people in the country, hence why he