Page 119 of Lady Knight and the Thief

Torren cracked a smile at her and said, “Thank you, I feel so much better now.”

The carriage rolled to a stop, and a steward stepped forward to open the door for them.

It was just as well. Cypress’s response did not need to leave her lips.

Torren exited the coach first, then held his hand out for Cypress to slip hers into.

With her heart in her throat, Cypress stepped out of the carriage and back onto the hard granite of the grand entryway to the ballroom.

Without hesitation, Torren tucked her hand into his elbow and led her up the steps. He kept an even, measured pace close behind the group of nobility who had exited the enormous carriage.

Cypress avoided looking at anyone, lest they see through her glamor.

Presumably, the male head of the house handed the golden invitation to a steward holding a staff topped with the Blackthorne family crest. They were announced as the Mothme’r family, and Cypress took no small satisfaction seeing Gerold at the back, still limping and favoring the side she’d rammed with her lance.

Cypress and Torren took the opportunity to slip through one of the smaller entryways while the Mothme’r family was being introduced, one after another. By the time that they descended the grand staircase, the steward called Gerold’s name, then prattled on with the ladies' names within the Mothme’r family.

Even with guests still arriving, and nobility being announced at the entryway, ball guests already swayed with the music, and plucked finger foods from trays carried by servants.

A string quartet and a few flute players were stationed in a small, raised recess in the wall. Their lively tune, played with ease, carried well over the guests' heads thanks to their position.

Cypress let her eyes roam over the ball goers, through the room. Looking for signs of either Cade or Caelith.

If her memory served, Caelith would be seated at the head of the room where the noble houses of Grethnah would come and kiss the ring of the king, and grovel at his feet for favor– of course, all under the guise of friendship and trust.

And, as expected, there he sat with an entourage of nobility practically lying prone at his feet.

While she had never believed Caelith to be particularlykindor tolerant, Cypress could at least admit that he was loyal to those who were loyal to him.

Cade, on the other hand, was just as likely to be twirling some busty daughter of a nobleman around, to have promised her his eternal favor; if only she stepped into the hall with him for just a moment as he was to be seated at his father’s side. Cade always did enjoy making snide comments to the men he thought were beneath him.

From experience, Cypress knew those ladies Cade manipulated rarely ever were seen again at court– ashamed of their dalliances with the Prince, who dropped them like a sack of potatoes as soon as they were finished coupling.

Cade saw the daughters of his father’s friends as a commodity. Playthings he could use and throw away within a breath, if it suited him. Cypress had been on the receiving end of those ladies' ire on more than one occasion when she remained at the Prince’s side, while they were sent away.

She didn’t see Cade anywhere in the ballroom, or at his father’s side, so Cypress guessed that he would be in one of the many hallways being entertained by some poor girl.

“Shall we dance?” Torren asked, his lips close to the shell of her ear.

Cypress turned to look at him, and that was acolossalmistake, as his storm grey eyes were entirely focused on her, with his heavy lids lowered halfway over the mercurial iris.

The weight of Torren’s stare had a tendency to make Cypress feel crazed.

Unable to get her voice to cooperate, Cypress just nodded and slipped her hand into his.

With the grace of an expert, Torren began twirling her around. As he had the last time they’d danced, Torren led her through the steps with ease.

“Do you knoweverything?” Cypress joked.

She didn’t know how he seemed to know all the dances, to be fully informed about all the goings on around him, inbothkingdoms, no less.

“Not everything, Lass,” Torren said. A wry smile pulled at his lips.

His hands gripped her tight, their bodies flush together as he led her around the ballroom, her skirts and hair flying.

“Name one thing you don’t know then,” Cypress countered just before he bent and dipped her low to the ground.

All around Cypress and Torren, ball goers were leading their partners around in the same dance, though no one dipped quite as low as they.