61 Frost XX AoK

‘The Baron and Baron of Burhan,’ a familiar voice announced Pavoo and Caelin to the collected nobility attending the Dukes annual ball in Mayce.

The parting conversation that Elyna had shared with Owen had troubled the woman, upsetting her in a way she couldn’t place. But with Edmunds swift return, she’d had little opportunity to ask him further questions or find what had caused their sudden animosity.

She had always looked forward to seeing Owen, a bright star in a dark sky. Yet, despite his pleasant manners, she sensed a change in him. One that she felt keenly and struggled to understand.

‘Lord Edmund Burhan,’ the next announcement came and Edmund began his descent into the ballroom.

Elyna closed her eyes. There had been no choice but to attend the ball. They arrived earlier in the day and Ed had vanished off to meet Owen near immediately. The family had taken a suite in the small tavern and Elyna had submitted to her mother. Caelin had seen her daughter scrubbed, polished and perfected to the rival of any maiden of court. Her hair had been curled and pinned elegantly to the nape of her neck. Her skin was aglow with vitality and subtle make-ups accented her features. Elyna had stared, blank into the mirror, watching the stranger staring back.

Once she’d known there was no escape from Mayce, Elyna had wanted to write ahead to the Duke. She had torn through pages of parchment and thrown all of her attempts into the fire. What could she say? I’m coming to the party. I don’t know how I’m going to breathe with you there with your wife.

‘Lady Elyna Burhan,’ her call came and Elyna fixed her gaze forward. She concentrated on not falling down the steps and not listening to the vague murmurs from the crowd.

It was a bright blue dress, impossible to ignore. The rich colour accented her skin and dark eyes. It had a low, sweeping neckline and was pulled taut by its corsetry. Her skirts whispered as she walked. The perfect lady. At least it was the image that Caelin had conjured.

In truth, her fingers gripped her skirts so tightly they were white. Her eyes had a distant, almost glazed look about them as she struggled against the rising tide of panic that threatened to overwhelm at any moment.

He was here, somewhere, and so was his wife. It was unavoidable that at some point she would see Malcolm and her heart would be splintered anew. Elyna scanned the crowd of faces without seeing anyone. Where did she go after entering? Was she acting strangely? Would everyone think that she was odd?

Her gaze landed on Owen and she hesitated, unsure of her reception if she sought him out as a port in a storm. She looked instead across and found her brother who was waving at her with a wide smile.

Elyna approached, finally remembering to breathe.

‘Well done!’ Edmund applauded her, ‘even mother couldn’t find fault with that entrance. Come, I need to introduce you to my betrothed!’

Elyna turned as Edmund pulled her forward.

Penelope Andaris…beautiful, perfect and blonde was walking towards them with a coy little smile.

Elyna had thought she was alright. That she could survive returning to Mayce…she’d been wrong.

‘I should have stayed in Nejem,‘ she whispered to herself.

The crowd was far larger than it had been the year before, both on account of the extended accomodations and swelling population in Mayce. It was not only nobles that graced the great hall of the keep, but knights, farmers, traders, their children and wives. There was a certain lack of colour amongst the throng, however, noticed quickly by anyone who had attended the year before, announcing in bold silence that the king and his grandsons would not be making an appearance tonight.

Overhead, the ceiling glittered like the night sky, alight with hundreds of candles. The long satin banners of black and gold had been dusted and hung anew about the walls, and the wooden floors were fresh with polish. Stark, white tablecloths dared guests to chance a glass of red wine without making a mess and, at a glance, would note the vintage was local, one might even say homemade. The silverware shone in the candlelight, tables loaded with sweet and savoury delights.

A guard stood posted at every corner and door, dressed in uniforms as black as ink, watched over those in attendance. Their wolf pins marked them as men and women of Mayce and, unless spoken to, all remained completely silent, as much a part of the background as the stonework itself.

Most of the nobles had made their way to the head of the hall, gathered in their usual cliques. Venora, sparse, mingled with those in Andaris colours, while the houses of the north seemed to gravitate towards the baron of Endor, who stood speaking of his good fortune in the mines the season before. Burhan was greeted with warmth by Warrick, with the duke and duchess readily engaged by Caelin and Pavoo.

Jared, the baron, stood tall and gold of mane alongside his usual shadow, the Wolf of Krome himself. The pair seemed deep in conversation, their words broken for the briefest spell as the darker of the pair took pause to scan the room at a familiar name. Could it be, was Elyna really here? Malcolm had almost allowed himself the kindness of forgetting her name. Unable to spot her, his attention was again won by the baron.

Owen was not far from Edmund when his brother Benjamin made a beeline for him, with neither Anna or Noah in attendance this year. Owen opened his mouth to call out to Elyna, only to be swept up by a tale Ben had to tell. He watched as Edmund caught up with his sister, Penelope close at hand. The young noblewoman frowned at what she perceived to be a very unkind reception by Edmund’s younger sister, who appeared to be speaking below her breath. What was it her mother always said about Caelin and her offspring? So very plain. Not her Edmund though. She smiled up at him as she took his arm in her own, the two of them made quite the pair.

“Elyna,” Edmund said, “Meet my soon to be wife, and your sister, Penelope Andaris.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Elyna.” Penelope said, not sure, or at least not making it obvious that they had met before. Almost as if Elyna were not worth remembering. These were the cruel games most nobles played. “I do hope you can make it to our wedding. Edmund tells me you’re a very busy lady,” she added, which could have been taken either way.

Benjamin spotted the woman then, his features twisted into something uncertain and all together indifferent. “What’s she doing here?” He asked Owen.

“I invited her,” Owen said.

“After the way she ignored Malcolm’s letters?”

“That’s the thing,” Owen explained, “she never got them.”

Ben pinned his brother with a puzzled look. “Where did they end up? Why didn’t she get them?”

“Elyna was in Nejem chasing Yvan on assignment, or so she says. I have the letters.” Owen admitted.

“You what!”

Owen nodded. “Intercepted on my way home from Burhan.”

“They were never delivered?” Ben asked.

“Oh they were delivered,” Owen assured him, “just never read.”

Benjamin looked like a man who had just fallen off his horse, a look Owen knew well. “You stole them? Please tell me you’ve read them!”

“Every last one.” Owen smirked.

Ben threw his arms out to clutch the man's shoulders. “Tell me everything!”

“I can do better than that!” Owen said. “Follow me.”

The pair ducked by the trio, with Edmund and Owen’s eyes meeting as they passed one another. Edmund pointed at the man as if to suggest they would catch up soon, the gesture acknowledged by Owen with a swift nod. Owen led Ben through a door Elyna would recognise as one leading to the library. Benjamin shut the door behind them, the guard at its post unmoved by their presence.

Penelope did not seem to notice that Edmund was now itching to get away, for she too had been struck by the desire to dance. “Edmund,” she cooed, brushing his arm underhand. “Would you mind if I slipped away to ask our host to dance? I’ve been here the better part of an hour and not seen him grace the floor even once.”

“A splendid idea, my darling,” Edmund said, beaming. “Do pass on my regards and let him know I will endeavour to catch up with him later.”

Penelope smiled up at her betrothed, offering a polite nod in Elyna’s direction as she made a swift departure from their company.

Edmund waited until the woman was out of earshot before he took his sister by the arm and pulled her near, practically dancing on the spot. Had he been a puppy, his tail would have betrayed him. “Isn’t she just…” Edmund said, at a loss for words. “Mother was hesitant at first. You know how she is when the match is not of her design, but she quickly came round to the idea.”

He rubbed her upper arm before laying his right, heavy across her shoulders. “I hope you’ll be as happy as I one day, sister. Perhaps we can find you someone to dance with tonight… or, maybe, you’ll do me the honour? Come on, what do you say to a spin around the room with your brother? It’s been far too long since we danced!” The wine speaking, no doubt.

Lady Penelope Andaris, was engaged to Edmund?

Elyna could only offer a faint smile. She was shocked, beyond understanding as she tried to make sense of the news. In reality she felt as though her entire world was falling apart.

Malcom hadn’t married Penelope. That was clear. Elyna nodded along when the Lady spoke but her thoughts were taken.

If Malcolm hadn’t married Penelope…why had he never written to her? Why hadn’t he told her? Her pain refused to lessen as Edmund took her hand. She stared at her brother without seeing him. The only explanation she had, was that Malcolm had no interest in her, beyond what they had shared the previous Frost. Her final faith in the man shattered. It wasn’t that he had been forced to marry someone else. He just hadn’t wanted her.

Edmund spoke again, but she heard it as though from a distance. He willed her to dance and she moved along with the steps. Was it possible to dance when you were dead? She felt like a moving corpse.

‘Come on Elyna,’ Edmund teased, ‘you could have a little more fun.’

‘I’m very happy for you,’ Elyna blinked, struggling to shake off her thoughts. ‘Really…you seem…you seem happy.’

They spin beneath the candles and she fixed her gaze on Edmunds shoulder. She wasn’t going to cry in front of the crowd. She scanned the faces though, searching for Owen. She needed to speak to him. He had known and he hadn’t told her.

His betrayal was like a fresh wound, bleeding and raw. Why hadn’t he told her? She had believed him to be a friend.

Owen was nowhere to be found however and her dance with Edmund came to a close.

It was then the son of Endor stepped forward and asked for her favour. With her mother encouraging from the sidelines, Elyna found it difficult to excuse herself.

‘I have to say Lady Elyna,’ he lent down to murmer into her ear, ‘I’ve not seen you at many gatherings?’

‘I don’t attend them,’ she replied quietly as he took her hand and guided her across the floor.

He was polite, friendly and encouraged her to visit Endor.

‘I’m more a woman of open skies,’ she protested quietly, but he wouldn’t hear it.

At long last their dance came to an end and Edmund stepped forward again. Elyna looked up at her brother before giving a small shake of her head. She couldn’t do this any longer.

The young woman turned and started making her way around the ballroom, aiming for the nearest door. Anywhere she could find some air.

Penelope had made her offer and been refused by the duke, who explained that he was saving his first dance for someone else. His rejection wounded her anew. First he had backed out of their wedding and now he would not even do her the kindness of a dance. The man seemed to recognise the mortified look that reached her eyes for all of a split second, and promised they would dance before the night was through if she would consider him again later in the evening. This seemed to lift her spirits, but only marginally, as she turned and watched Edmund and Elyna from afar, stung by the man’s refusal.

“Darling.” Edmund greeted the woman as they were reunited at the edge of the dance floor. “Are your feet burning for another dance?” He hadn’t realised she was yet to take to the floor.

“Are you asking me to dance?” She smiled up at the man.

“If you’ll have me,” Edmund replied.

“Now and always.” Penelope grinned.

They danced, with Edmund passing his sister, who now found herself in the arms of the son of the baron from Endor. Malcolm had spotted the pair from afar and taken his leave of the hall, the decision so abrupt it had even gone unnoticed by Jared. The baron spun about with wine glass still in hand, looking a little perplexed by the sudden disappearance of his friend. He made a beeline for the library, the collision that followed with Elyna unexpected and sudden.

“By the seven,” he uttered. “My lady, excuse me, I did not see you,” he explained, his words quick and a little breathless. Jared pulled his hand back when he realised he had brushed the side of the woman’s corset in an attempt to correct their paths. His right hand was covered in wine. The man passed the glass between his hands and shook the spare one free of the wine. “Lady Burhan!” He said, shocked. “My apologies, I did not right away recognise you.” Jared seemed to bite his tongue then, holding his breath, as if he had more to say. “The duke will be pleased to know you’re here, I was just on my way to fetch him, please excuse me.”

The baron of Warrick smiled as he looked back. “Stay right there!” He called, with an air of calmness that said he was used to people following orders, his dark gaze alight with quiet hope. Did Malcolm know she was here?

He whipped into the library to find Malcolm pacing the floor, his brothers standing either side of the mantle. The firelight cast long shadows across the wooden floors, the smell of old books inviting and familiar, unlike the scene before him. “Is something wrong?” Jared inquired.

“She’s here…” Malcolm said, scarcely daring to breathe.

“And here I was quite sure that was my news to share.” Jared slowed to a halt, his gaze going to Owen and Benjamin once more. “I was going to suggest you dance, but perhaps you would prefer that I ask her to leave?”

“Why is she here?” Malcolm turned about, confused. “She ignored every last one of my letters and now she is here, dancing with the son of Ted and Kee Endor.

“I imagine she is here because you invited her,” Jared accused, good natured as always.

“Actually,” Owen interjected, “I invited her.”

Both the duke and the baron shot Owen a look of surprise.

“I was there when she returned home. Her brother had invited me to dinner and there she was.”

Malcolm seemed at a loss for words, so Jared asked the question he knew was burning behind the man’s lips. “Well, what excuses did she make for ignoring the letters?”

“None,” Owen said before explaining further. “She had been in Nejem hunting Yvan on assignment.”

Malcolm seemed to withdraw both physically and mentally, as if he too wondered if there had been more to it. “Yvan,” he said. “Did she think that was appropriate?”

“I don’t think I asked,” Owen said.

“Then there is still reason to believe she got the letters upon her return?” Jared said, trying to inject some sense into the mix.

“I see no reason why not,” Benjamin piped up.

Owen opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, the letters had been reduced to ash in the fireplace at their backs upon Malcolm’s sudden arrival. “Jared could be right.” Owen finally said.

“Well, what are you waiting for? She’s out there, go ask her to dance!” Jared encouraged him.

Malcolm still appeared flustered, almost as if he did not know what to feel. A small part of him was relieved it had not been an outright refusal, but then he was reminded that she had chosen to flee the country in chase of Yvan, a man she had long been involved with, maybe even in love with. He closed his eyes. He was too busy to deal with distractions, but he needed to know. Malcolm went by Jared, leaving the room in such an abrupt manner that the trio left standing in the library did not right away move to follow.

The duke entered the ballroom with a strange air of calm about him that did well to mask his inner turmoil. He appeared somehow taller dressed in black, the silk of his shirt hung off his shoulders, well-fit and handsome, with a shallow v in the front. At the centre of the v hung a golden feather from a string of black twine. He was lean, but muscular, having put on some weight with all of the strength building a long year of work in Mayce had afforded him.

Green eyes swept the crowd in search of Elyna and, when he saw her, wrapped in a gown a deep, Burhan blue, there was no mistaking her. His shoulders sunk a little, as if a weight had fallen from them, features softened as he watched her. The relief he felt surprised him. He had not expected to feel anything but resentment, bitterness and anger. When that too was stripped from him, he chanced a few steps towards her, heart hammering in his chest. What should he say? How would he be received? He met her gaze as the distance between them was closed, hand extended by way of invitation to the next dance.

It was inevitable that she would collide with someone, intent as she was in trying leave the room by the fastest route possible. She stumbled, accepting the apology as it was offered and moved to continue her exit, when she realised who the man was. Paused in her hurried steps, Elyna flushed as she looked up at the Baron.

‘The fault, I’m sure is mine my Lord,’ she spoke quickly as he shook his hand. A quick glance at her gown and the sides of her dress confirmed that it hadn’t suffered from the effects of wine. As for any accidental motions of the Baron, she paid them no attention.

The Duke would be pleased to know she was here? Elyna remained quiet at that, hands held limp at her sides. She had many reasons to doubt that that was true. It couldn’t be true. She should leave just to spare them both any embarrassment. As Jared turned to depart, Elyna had every intention of following her feet out into the snow and away from the glow of the candles above.

It was the quiet order from the Baron that saw her still. If anything, she was used to following orders. Everything in her longed to continue running, out into the freedom of the night sky, but her feet would no longer obey.

Trapped, Elyna looked around herself. Did she really want to see Malcolm. No. Yes…she looked down at the floor before finally edging away from the spot Jared had left her. She collected a glass of wine from a table and examined the stem. Heart thundering against her chest. It would happen sooner or later. If she ran from the encounter tonight then another one waited down the road. That too was inevitable.

She set the glass down untouched and looked up, across the room as the Duke strode towards her. Hairs lifted at the back of her neck and along her arms. Damn her mother, she had the corset pulled too tight. Her eyes met his and Elyna found herself unable to look away.

Before she could move, he stood before her. So lean, tall and impossibly handsome. There was no doubting that she had fallen for the wolf, and fallen hard. A torturous year and still, he held her in his spell with such a simple gesture.

Elyna accepted the offered hand in silence and followed as he led the way to the dance floor. Her gaze dropped to his shoulder then, her breath uneasy as they moved closer to one another.

What could she say?

It seemed that he was at an equal loss for words, and for an extended pause Elyna allowed herself to be caught in the moment and swept along in the dance, far too aware of where his hand grazed her side. Where her own fingers lay gently in his shoulder. Were they under some kind of spell?

It was then that she spotted the small feather against his skin. Without thinking, her hand slid from his shoulder, her thumb following the curve of dark twine before she searched his expression, confused.

‘You…you did not marry Lady Andaris?’ She simply said, voice soft. Her brows drawn with together, puzzled as she looked up. ‘Malcolm…I’m so confused…’ Elyna admitted. Why hadn’t he told her? Above all things she had believed Malcolm Bennett to be a man of sincerity. He had never promised love or devotion…but he had told her that he cared for her? Hadn’t he? He had expressed it through his actions even if he had never said it with his words.

Though the ceiling shone bright under the orange glow of candlelight, there was something soft and all together romantic about the light it cast on the ground. All else fell away, the hall dim, just dark enough to make it agreeable, so much so that even Caelin did not readily notice the man from her perch amongst good company. Who was her daughter dancing with now? She had considered the attentions of the son of Endor for all of a moment, deciding his father to be far too rotund and stout for her liking; imagine the grandchildren, she had quietly thought to herself. She craned her neck to try and get a better look, hand finding that of her husband’s shoulder to prod at him in a blind attempt to win his attention for a moment, long enough to ask, “who is that?”

“Who and where?” Pavoo asked, squinting ahead of them.

“Over there.” She pointed with a look. “Dancing with Elyna.”

Pavoo realised who is was straight away once he spotted the couple half a hall from them and decided to play dumb. “I’ve no idea,” he said and moved to return to the conversation she had pulled him from with Alston Warrick. The duke’s wife, Isabel, having overheard, acknowledged Caelin then.

“Don’t be daft,” she said, as if the idea of someone not recognising the host was an absurd insult to her. But then, she had known the Wolf of Krome long before he had won such a title, when her boys were young enough to still enjoy playing in the snow. “That man has been like a son to me. Don’t you know the host when you see him? Malcolm Krome, I’m sure, would recognise you, dear Caelin.”

Caelin slapped Pavoo’s chest with the back of her hand in a gentle but repeated motion. How could he not notice, after all he and the man had spoken at length when the duke had visited Burhan last Frost. She had not mentioned the visit to Elyna, sure his affection was misplaced. Come to think of it, the baroness recalled, she had taken great pleasure in telling him no. He was not deserving of her daughter’s hand, not after he had so easily dismissed her for Penelope Andaris. She chose, however, to say nothing, at least not in the presence of Isabel Warrick, whom she knew to be a very cunning, astute woman. The matriarch of one of the most powerful houses in Renemere was not the kind of person even Caelin could afford to offend.

“How many of those slaves from Nejem did the king assign him?” Pavoo asked out of curiosity.

A soft knot formed at the centre of Isabel’s brow as she attempted to recall the number, casting her mind back. “At least one hundred… or maybe it was two? Our Jared would know.”

“Know what?” Alston asked, suddenly aware that he had missed the new line of conversation.

“How many of those refugees Malcolm houses here in Mayce,” Isabel spoke up.

“Two hundred,” Alston said and if the tone of his voice was anything to go by, he seemed quite certain.

“That must make the village about three hundred strong now? Pavoo inquired.

“That sounds right,” Alston agreed.

“Three hundred,” Caelin echoed, aware all of the sudden that Malcolm Krome had doubled the strength of his small region in the span of a year. “But they are no more than slaves…” she said.

“Perhaps they were once,” Isabel agreed, “but no longer. Malcolm has made farmers, craftsmen and even soldiers of them.”

“Soldiers?” Caelin scoffed. She looked about the hall and noticed there and then that a handful of the guards were of Nejem origin. The baroness blinked. Even Burhan could only boast about five hundred men at arms, and only half of that number had any formal training. Would she come to regret the denied request of a renewed proposal, she wondered.


Inside the library Owen turned to Benjamin. “Why did you let him believe the letters had been delivered?”

“Why did you not!” Ben accused.

“I didn’t want to undermine you!”

“You’re the one who took the bloody letters!” Benjamin said. “I was only trying to protect you!”

“What?” Jared turned to face them. He had one hand on the handle, ready to leave. “What letters?”

Owen folded his arms, “the letters to lady Burhan,” he explained. “I took them.”

“Took them? Whatever do you mean?” Jared asked.

“From her place near the capital. They were just sitting there on the doorstep.”

“Couldn’t read half of them,” Ben added, as if that made the act any better. “They were too damaged by the snow.”

“I just have one question,” Jared said. “Why?”

Owen frowned. “I don’t know,” he said, “I was angry for Malcolm, I didn’t think someone who could just leave for a year without a word should be allowed a second chance.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.” Jared scolded.

“I know it’s not the decision Malcolm would have made… but, he deserves better!” Owen argued.

Benjamin straightened. “I think Owen made the right decision.”

“At what cost?” Jared said. “What if he could still be happy with this girl?”

Benjamin shrugged. “He’s too picky. There are a good number of women who would like to call him theirs. Why should the one who hurt him get a second chance?”

Jared pressed his palm to his temple. They had trapped him in a conversation that was bound to go round in circles. “I strongly disagree with and condemn your actions, Owen, and even if I did not, it would still remain Malcolm’s choice to make, not yours or any of us.”

Owen sighed. “I realise my decision was made in haste, but remain unsure it would have been any different had I had more time to consider it. Regardless, it was my fault and I will tell Malcolm.”

“Why?” Jared said, dismissing the idea of any honour the brothers thought they might gain in coming clean now. “You’ve established they were lost in transit, any other tale would only cause further upset. I suggest you live with this and grow from it.. and might I suggest you not be so cruel in future. By the seven… he’s your brother!”

“Owen thought he was protecting Malcolm,” Benjamin said.

Jared couldn’t argue with that. He met Owen’s eye, nodded and took his leave of the library.


On the dance floor, Malcolm was torn between keeping a neutral face and smiling. He feared his smile would give far too much away. He focused instead on answering her question. “No,” he said. “After their promise to the king fell through, causing nothing but problems for the nation, Alter revoked the engagement before it could be announced. He made other arrangements for Marcus and gave me his blessing to travel to Burhan, only when I arrived… you were already gone, stationed in Nejem, Owen tells me.”

Gone, he thought, though he had not considered it a possibility at the time, sure the woman had chosen to hide from him while her mother made excuses and her father expressed his reluctance. “I’ve clearly caused your family some embarrassment, and for that I am truly sorry—.” He paused, could anyone blame him for obeying the wishes of their king? Was it even worth trying to explain again?

“Elyna,” he said, so informal, “why did you go… why didn’t you write? Did you not get even one of my letters?” Nothing from her parents, he wondered. “I sent at least three… the first season,” he admitted, suggesting there had been more, though he remained too embarrassed to admit such. “No goodbye?” His eyes looked glassy following that, as if it were the very lack of farewell that pained him the most, even more than not hearing from her.


“Is that Elyna and the duke?” Edmund remarked, looking over Penelope’s shoulder as they danced.

The woman was all grace as they turned, stealing a chance only then to glance across at the pair. “I believe it very well could be, my lord.”

“Does he dance better than me?” Edmund asked.

“I am yet to find out,” Penelope told him, without doing herself the disservice of admitting the man had been saving his first dance for Edmund’s sister of all people. “But I will tell you soon.” She smiled, planning to swoop in on the pair at the end of the orchestra’s latest piece. If Edmund had been allowed to lead the dance before, he was no longer in control. The couple moved closer to the pair.

“Will you dance with your sister again?” Penelope suggested more so than asked.

Edmund didn’t want to admit that his feet were tired and that he was dying for a glass of wine. “If she will have me,” he said.

The song came to an end and Penelope made her approach, Edmund like a shadow at her side. However, it was Pavoo who had chosen to interrupt the duke and his partner.

“Care to dance with an old fool?” He asked his daughter, sure she would have questions that the music would mask from Carlin’s keen sense of hearing.

There was something indefinable that felt entirely right about dancing with Malcolm. As they moved, Elyna felt her tension and uncertainty ease. It was all too easy to forget the rest of the ballroom as they moved through the partial darkness. As though dancing in their own personal sunset. She could hear the steady thump of her own heart, the whisper of her skirts and the very distant hum of conversation from the rest of the room. His breath tickled his ear and she hadn’t remembered to return her hand to his shoulder. Her fingers gently resting against his collar and the token that he wore. Her gaze fixed upon his features, even if she had to lean back to watch him.

His arrangement with Andaris had fallen apart. Elyna drew a sharper breath, as though plunged into ice water. Her eyes scanned his features, searching for the truth. Could it be that easy? He had gone to Burhan? Her lips parted in surprise. The summons she had received… she could have screamed in frustration at the realisation of what she had missed.

The summons she had received from her family at the start of Bloom had been both vague and demanding. Her mother…had Caelin wanted her to run?

He said her name and Elyna closed her eyes, head bowed. Had there been no one else around she would have bowed her head against his chest. As it was, she was reminded of their audience. They were being watched. The song was winding to a close.

‘Mal,’ she forced herself to look up at him again. She gave a small shake of her head, ‘I…I’ve not heard a word from you since Frost. Nothing since the day we returned to Renmere.’ Nothing except the gossip papers reporting of his attendance to Andaris hospitality.

The last few bars of the song were playing and she could see shadows approaching. Edmund and Penelope, then from another side, the son of Endor. A sense of panic started to rise, twisting her middle. There was so much more to say. She had hurt him, that much was clear and she couldn’t stand that.

‘I…can we find the chance to talk?’ She asked, her voice edged with desperation. ‘I owe you an apology-‘ she was interrupted as Pavoo interrupted and requested the next dance.

Elyna offered her father a faint smile and carefully lifted her hands from Malcolm as she took a step back. Her eyes scanned his once more as she dipped into a curtsey and straightened. Hoping that they might find the time to speak again. There seemed to be so much unsaid.

‘Of course Father,’ Elyna agreed to be led away by her sire, but not without looking over her shoulder at the man who still held her heart.

As they started to dance, Elyna found herself watching a pair of dark eyes that mirrored her own.

‘You knew where I was,’ she accused quietly, ‘why did you say nothing? Mal- the Duke said he visited Burhan?’ Why had her father blocked the match?

Pavoo studied his daughter, ‘when you dance with the Duke, you’re different.’ He replied, as if that was any answer at all, ‘you seem…comfortable in this environment. Something I never thought that I would see…’ Pavoo lowered his voice, ‘Elyna, I know you. I know how unhappy the turning of the court makes you.’

Elyna remained quiet, that was no answer to her questions and he knew it.

‘I gave my blessing, in the hope you could be happy in a marriage with Mayce,’ he let out a slow sigh, ‘my blessing still stands. Yet, when you failed to return home - I wished to allow you your freedom. You had been hurt by the broken engagement,’ he studied her again, ‘I know that, your mother knows it too.’

Elyna looked down at her feet, she was angry, frustrated at the situation. So much could have been resolved so easily.

A chance to talk, Malcolm thought, mind still humming with the words when he found himself face to face with lady Andaris once more. This time she had her future husband for backup. How could he refuse her a second time without insulting her again? Malcolm had been unable to give Elyna an answer before she was swept away by her father, and it seemed Endor had chosen to wait in the wings for a second dance.

“Of course,” Malcolm accepted that there was no escape and met Penelope’s offer with a smile. “A dance.” He agreed.

Edmund, feeling a little redundant, excused himself, gleefully taking to the drinks table where he was poured a glass of wine by one of the staff. It was there he bumped into Owen and Benjamin.

“I’ve not seen either of you dance tonight,” Edmund accused.

“The wife would have my balls if I danced with anyone but her.” Benjamin excused himself from the challenge. “And seeing as she is not here, I do not intend to incite rumour.”

Edmund laughed. “And what’s your excuse, dear Owen?”

“Benjamin won’t dance with me and risk encouraging scandal.”

Now Edmund was really laughing. Owen was funny. He was quite sure he had told him before. An extended bout of laughter seemed to confirm it. “I’m sure we can find you someone.”

“And where is your lovely lady?” Owen asked.

“Over there,” Edmund gestured, “dancing with your brother.”

The pair looked across the hall and grinned, still pleased Malcolm had been able to escape an unwanted marriage. Owen was happier still that Edmund had been able to find happiness in the match.


“Thank you for agreeing to dance with me, your grace,” Penelope said. It had been too long, she thought, since that awkward dinner at her parents residence. “I’m sorry I’ve not had the chance to write.” What would she have said, she wondered. Malcolm had told her he would not hold her father’s wrongdoings against her, yet here they were.

“I feel so silly for all of the things I admitted to you last Frost in confidence.” Penelope told him. “But I would not wish to take anything back. I really do and have always admired you.”

“I’m flattered,” Malcolm said.

Penelope frowned. He was being polite at best, though she found the words a little harsh. “I don’t mean to flatter you,” she said. “In truth… I had hoped the idea of a future with you was not so one sided, but now I see I am far better matched to Edmund Burhan.”

Malcolm could tell he had wounded her and knew his words to be thoughtless. “I apologise, my lady. I too should have written. It’s been a busy year in Mayce and I did not wish to make any false promises or…”

“Or?” Penelope encouraged him to finish what he had started.

“Everything worked out as it should have,” he said as the song came to an end.

The woman lifted her chin, too proud to disagree with him, even if she felt a little insulted by his inability to be honest with her. Would it be such a crime to admit his heart belonged to someone else, to the Burhan girl, she assumed. “Thank you for the dance, your grace.”

Malcolm bowed and made a swift retreat from the dance floor. He was met with a cautious smile. Jared had a way of smiling with his eyes. “It seems your dance card is busy tonight.”

The duke gave him a look he knew well. Malcolm was uncomfortable and wanted to be anywhere but their current location. “Wine,” Jared suggested, holding out a fresh glass of the house red. As Malcolm took up the glass, Jared extended his own and clicked it against the edge of his friend’s. “To a swift end to this night.”

“Hear, hear!” Malcolm agreed and took a drink of the wine.

“How is she?” Jared asked after a pause.

“It feels… strange.”

“Strange or strained?”

“Both,” Malcolm said. “I don’t really know what to think.”

“Then I suggest you don’t,” Jared said.

“Easier said than done,” Malcolm replied, words partnered with a look of hopelessness, as if Jared should know better by now.

“All right,” Jared said, “then let me give you something else to think about?”

Malcolm fixed his gaze on the man, unsure what he meant by that.

“Follow me.”

The pair slipped away into the library, with Jared whispering something to the guard posted at the door before it was closed behind them.


Caelin met her husband at the edge of the dance floor. Whatever usual comment she might have for Elyna, perhaps encouraging her to dance with more of the noble sons or rich trade houses, she chose on this occasion to keep to herself. Instead she offered her daughter a warm smile and asked to steal her husband for a dance. How long had it been since the two of them had done anything so affectionate? In truth, Caelin was curious to hear what Pavoo had to say.

Edmund’s laughter rose above the rest, already on his second drink. He spotted Endor making another attempt to entrap his sister, and waved her over by way of excuse. Penelope had made her apologies and gone in search of her mother, leaving just the trio and now Elyna to chat.

“How was Nejem?” Benjamin asked her, not brave enough to extend his arms for an embrace given the time that had passed since their last meeting. “I can’t believe you went back… and in Blaze too!”

“She has the tan to prove it,” Edmund remarked.

“I can barely stand that place in the coldest season, let alone the hottest.” Owen agreed. He chanced a look at Elyna, sure she was not pleased with him after the meal they had shared in Burhan, though in his defence, Edmund had wanted to keep his match a surprise. He had only been protecting the wishes of a friend, Owen told himself.

“By the seven,” Edmund uttered below his breath, “he’s coming this way.”

Should Elyna turn about, she would see the son of Endor making another attempt to win her attention. “I’ve got this,” Benjamin said as he stepped forward to intercept. “Have you tried the wine?” He could be heard muttering before leading the man away.

“Aren’t you popular tonight, little sister.”

“Happens when you’re the most elusive girl in the room.” Owen teased.

“And interesting.” Edmund countered. “My goodness is that…” Edmund blinked, startled by the sight of their parents dancing. When had they ever done that? “This is too weird.” He admitted and went off in search of Penelope, leaving Owen alone to face Elyna.

Released from her dance, Elyna managed a curtsy in politeness to her mother. Though she found the answers from Pavoo had done little to quell her frustration. Why hadn’t they told her? The question circled in her thoughts and she knew that it would haunt her for weeks to come. She turned a slow circled on the dance floor, searching for Malcolm but was unable to see him.

Had he denied her request for an audience? Or perhaps he had been pulled away, he was of course the host of this event. Her shoulders lowered a little, defeated. Elyna tried to be optimistic but everything her heart told her, was that even if there had been a fleeting chance with Malcolm Bennett, that chance had long fled. But then, why did he still wear her token?

Oblivious to the son of Endor, Elyna spotted Edmund and was glad to join him across the room. She collected a drink on the way and this time made sure to test the deep red vintage. It was smooth, lining the back of her throat.

She smiled at Benjamin, but her expression faltered when it came time to greet Owen. Thankfully, the brothers filled in any awkward gaps in conversation and she took another drink. What was she going to do? What could she do? Feeling powerless, she recalled the events of Nejem and summed them up in two words, ‘hot, and uneventful,’ she told Benjamin. ‘I was stationed far the the main city itself, usually on patrols through the desert, if I never see sand again I’ll be a happy woman,’ she confided.

At Ben’s exclamation, she gave a small half-turn before spinning quickly back to Edmund with a chuckle. She hid the expression behind her hand before taking another sip of wine. Looking between Owen and Edmund she sighed, so the woman who least wanted to be here was therefore most desirable? What a sorry world they lived in.

Too soon, Edmund made his own escape and Elyna forced herself to look up at Owen. For the first time, she found it as difficult as meeting the gaze of his brother. Elyna held her tongue behind her teeth. Searching for the right thing to say.

Malcolm’s supposed indifference was a known pain, something she had been living with for the best part of a year. Owens betrayal stung like a sharp cut washed in lemon juice.

Elyna took another drink as Owen looked away, as though looking for a source of inspiration to continue their conversation.

‘Owen…’ Elyna forced herself to speak, keeping her voice as level as she could. ‘I-‘ she shook her head and looked up at him again, ‘I don’t have many friends, I have my brother, Emily and I thought I could count you among them.’

Owen remained silent as he watched her, letting her finish.

‘You knew how I feel about your brother…your the only one who knows why I left.’ She searched his expression before taking another drink. ‘You didn’t tell me about Edmund and Penelope.’

Owen opened his mouth as if to talk, but she shook her head quickly and finished her drink, setting it down on the empty table beside the dance floor.

‘I know Edmund wanted it to be a ‘surprise,’ she looked skyward, struggling to contain her tears, ‘don't you think that…knowing how I felt, you could have done me the kindness of telling me?’

‘It’s hard to know someone’s feelings, when they’re across the world, Elyna,’ Owen replied quietly.

She glanced at him then, touching her forefinger to each eye in order to remove any wetness without ruining her make-up.

‘You think I wouldn’t have run straight to him, sailed straight home, if I’d had any idea that he hadn’t married?’ Elyna shook her head again amazed at her own ability to speak beneath a facade of calm, ‘I can understand your poor opinion of me Owen,’ he knew about Yvan. He knew that she was flawed when it came to matters of the heart, ‘I just…I had thought we were friends. I find my trust was misplaced, and I am sorry in that.’

She looked around the room then before leaving Owen Bennett where he stood. She was angry at the young man, and some part of her really wanted to break his nose. But most of all, she felt sorrowful. As though she had a second loss to mourn, just as painful as the first.

Owen let her get all of four paces before he called out, uncaring of who overheard him. “Elyna, Wait!”

His call drew the attention of a few strangers that stood nearby, but every one of them looked away when met with Owen’s glare. His features softened as he closed the distance between himself and the lady of Burhan.

“You say we are friends, and indeed I thought we were.” He accused her. “Yet you find it so easy to turn your back? Why do you make it so difficult for people to like you! Do you think my brother is the only one who sent you letters!” Owen hadn’t told anyone it was his letters to the woman he wanted burned, and only sure of his own pain, thought to take Malcolm’s while he was there.

Owen let out a breath that saw his shoulders sink with it, deflated by his next thought, one he didn’t realise would jump the que on his tongue so quickly. “You think you’re the only one capable of pain. In that way your age betrays you, my lady. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said, red in the face, “I will take my leave of you.”

The man seemed to be swallowed by the crowd as he pressed his way by a few groups of gathered strangers, a mix of knights and families from the village and beyond.

Benjamin had witnessed the exchange, though remained unable to hear anything that had been said. He went after Owen, leaving Endor to make his pass at Elyna again. Before he could, however, a man that looked no older than her brother, and certainly no younger, approached the lady of Burhan.

“I couldn’t help but notice you were talking with my cousin,” he said before introducing himself. “The name’s Godric.”

Godric was about the same height as Owen with stronger shoulders and arms. He had black hair, like the duke, but unlike the brothers, his eyes were so dark they almost appeared colourless in the low light. His smile was all business, lacking the sincerity of Owen’s or the sporadicness of his older brother. Yet Godric had a certain charm that wasn’t easily identified at a glance. He was easy to look in the eye, but graceful enough not to stare.

If Godric had any idea Elyna was the lady of a noble house, he was yet to make it known in address or action. “You look like you could do with a drink, can I get you something?” He offered. “My brother is here somewhere, though I couldn’t say where. I haven’t seen him all night.”

“Excuse me, lady Elyna. I do apologise for interrupting,” said the son of Ted Endor. “I was hoping, as you are once again free, that you might do me the honour of another dance?”

Godric raised his hands and backed away in jest, he wasn't about to challenge the son of a noble house, one he knew to be so as the man’s father had not stopped barking about him all night. He fled nearby to the drinks table but didn’t linger long.

Scanning the room, Elyna couldn’t see Edmund or Malcolm. She did however spot her parents as they danced. Edmund had been right, it was weird.

She was halted by Owen and turned to listen. His response was a surprise and one that left her feeling more miserable than ever. She had hurt Owen as well? She was struck by the harsh truth of his words. Stunned into silence she turned the last year over in her mind. It hadn’t been easy. She had missed Malcolm and Owen desperately, even if for entirely different reasons. Elyna had even missed Ben from the camaraderie that the group had formed. His lack of embrace hadn’t gone unnoticed.

‘Owen,’ Elyna made to reach for the man but he had melded into the crowd. She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip. What a mess. Was all of the blame to be laid at her own feet? She looked down at the deep blue skirts and wished, for the hundredth time that night that she was anywhere else. A public ball was not the place to have these brief, painful interactions with so little chance of anything being resolved.

Was he right? Did she make it hard for people to know her? Elyna rubbed her fingertips along her temple before taking another drink.

“I couldn’t help but notice you were talking with my cousin,” he said before introducing himself. “The name’s Godric.”

Elyna turned to face the voice and found herself standing before a stranger. Yet one who had so many familiar features. A cousin? Even though Owen had just departed, it took the woman a moment to realise what Godric had meant.

‘A pleasure to meet you Godric,’ Elyna forced a smile. Her heart felt as though it was somewhere in the region of the floor, but she would always be polite. A cousin of Owen and Mal? He had a faint accent though she was unable to place it. His lack of social etiquette was a relief and her smile became more natural as he offered a drink.

Sure she already had a beverage, Elyna looked at her hand and realised that the glass was empty. She began to reply but Uri, the son of Endor interrupted.

Her brows drew together as she looked up at the noble son and watched Godric retreat to the tables.

Another dance?

Elyna shook her head, ‘Your offer is most kind,’ she wracked her brains for polite refusal. ‘However, I was just in the process of excusing myself for some air,’ she admitted, hoping that honesty would be best. ‘Perhaps a little later?’ She offered, before curtseying and continuing to the door as planned.

Beyond the ballroom was the main hallway and entrance to the keep.
As it had the year before, the frozen outside beckoned beyond the large, partially opened doors. It was the promise of fresh air and a chance to clear her head. However, unlike the year before, once Elyna stepped beyond the ballroom guards in black, she didn’t venture out into the snow. Instead she took a moment to steady herself and breathe. She looked at the glass in her hand and hurriedly set it down on a table. The entrance way to the keep was empty, except for a pair of guards on the stairs and another at the door that led deeper into the keep. Beyond the main door were the steps and she could only assume, more of Malcolm’s men at arms.

Owen had accused her of being too young. Was she? She had returned to Renmere and found that the world was upside down to what she thought. She felt crippled with guilt at hurting two of the people she loved best. This had all been her fault? She had written to a Owen in explanation upon her departure, why had he not received her own letter?

She wanted to run. Out the door, out the gates to her horse. If she took to the road she could return to the city alone and find her way to a distant land. But that was cowardice. This was painful, but she hadn’t intended to run from her problems before and wouldn’t now.

Elyna let out the deep breath that she had been holding in, she could do this. She could dance and pretend to smile and then she could go home and curl up in her bed, and hope the world would fade away.

She turned to make her way back to the ballroom, but the soft glow of candles through the door was blocked by a shadow. Startled, she looked up at Uri, ‘my lord, you surprised me,’

‘I can’t think how Lady Elyna,’ he approached with a smile, ‘not as your invitation was so clear.’

‘Invitation?’ She shook her head, ‘I-I’m afraid you mistook me, Lord Endor, I truly intended to get some air.’

‘Then let us walk the gardens together?’ He had closed the distance between them and Elyna found herself taking a step back to maintain it. Her heart had started a slow, uncomfortable pounding against her chest.

‘I was just about to return,’ she gesture beyond him to the ballroom, where all the light seemed to be just out of reach. The entrance hall having only a few of candles to lift the darkness.

He was either oblivious to her discomfort, or chose to ignore it, because he reached out to touch her hair, ‘perhaps you will allow me to steal a kiss before we return?’ He encouraged.

‘I’m afraid I will not,’ Elyna ducked to the side and hopefully out of reach.

‘My lady,’ he chuckled, ‘you play too coy, no wonder your jealous suitors tried to keep me at bay.’ He reached again, this time curling his hand around her arm.

Elyna paused and looked at the grip, she had forgotten the guards and simply stared up at the man, blank and furious.

‘Let me go,’ she said quiet, but firm.

He smiled again and she wondered if there was a hard liquor beneath the scent of wine, ‘my kiss first, you protest too much.’ He pulled her close.

Elyna moved, sideways and then under the arm that held her. His hand pinned beneath her own she twisted until within a breath the Lord Endor found himself on his knees with his arm stretched awkwardly behind his own back. She flexed her finger on his thumb as she held him, locked into place with such a small motion.

‘Try and steal another kiss, from a Lady unwilling, Endor, and I will break your nose.’ She lent forward to tell him softly. He tried to move but found that the action pushed his shoulder wrongly against the socket, so bent his knees once more.

Elyna released him, and backed away towards the ballroom once more. She kept her eyes on the man until she reached the door.

“Knight to d-four,” Malcolm said, making his first move of the match.

Jared countered with ease, shifting the corresponding knight to stand before its counterpart. “Knight to d-five.” He smiled as he put down the piece before meeting Malcolm’s eye. His friend always had a way of coming alive whenever presented with a spot of competition.

“Dragon to f-three.” Malcolm shifted the piece and leaned forward in his chair to watch Jared’s next move.

“Knight to e-six.”

“Knight to e-three,” Malcolm said.

“C-five.”

“C-four.” Malcolm countered.

Jared smirked. The match was starting to gain momentum now. “Dragon to c-six.”

“Dragon to c-three.”

“Dragon to f-six.” Jared leaned back, the playing field looking rather balanced at this point.

“My knight takes your knight at c-five from d-four.”

“My captain takes your knight at c-five.” Jared countered without thought, the move automatic, as if he were playing ahead in his mind.

Malcolm held his hand over another knight as there came a knock at the door. “Come in,” he said.

Music rushed into the room as the door opened in such a jarring manner that Jared flinched, shaken from his train of thought. Malcolm twisted in his chair to find one of the guards from the front had made his way to the library.

“Is someone covering your post?” Malcolm asked.

“Yes, your grace,” replied the guard.

“What news?” Jared pressed.

“An altercation, my lord, between two of the guests.” The guard answered in haste.

Jared smiled across at Malcolm, who had returned to the match, no more moved by the news than the wooden knight under the hand which hovered above it. “Sounds like we may have to limit the wine.” The baron teased.

Malcolm allowed himself a grin but did not meet the man’s eye.

“Apologises, your grace, but I believe the pair to be of noble descent.”

“Thoroughbred or thoroughly ill-behaved.” Jared Jested.

Malcolm smirked at that. “Was there any blood spilled?” He asked the guard without turning to face him.

“No, your grace. But a complaint has been laid by Uri Endor.”

“Against?” Malcolm asked, this time turning to face the man clad in black linen.

“Lady Burhan, your grace.”

“Elyna Burhan?” Malcolm rose from his chair.

“I believe so, your grace.”

Jared was on his feet at once. His hand went to Malcolm’s shoulder, as if to request his orders in silence. When Malcolm did not right away answer, Jared addressed him. “Malcolm?”

“Speak to Uri,” he said, “let’s try to avoid a scene.”

Jared left the room to do just that.

“Where is Elyna?” Malcolm asked the guard.

“In the foyer last I saw her, your grace.”

“Thank you.” Malcolm said. “Be sure to return to your post.”

“Right away, your grace.” The guard left at once.

Malcolm abandoned their game in the library to cross the great hall. The crowd seemed to part before him, with just enough room for him to slip through without brushing shoulders with anyone. When he neared the front doors, he was glad to find that Jared had been able to intercept Uri before the man had been capable of returning to the tables where most of the noble families were seated.

Beyond the large sets of double doors, Elyna stood outside under the cover of the front entrance, snow falling like a dappled curtain at her back. She did not appear to be in any distress at first glance, in fact, if Malcolm were to put a word to the fix of her features, he would say it was close to anger or perhaps relief. Elyna was a trained member of the Iron Hand and Uri no more than a pampered ponce… a nicer term than he deserved. Malcolm knew the woman could handle herself.

“If this is your way of asking me for a second dance…” He teased her. Malcolm’s smile was bright but brief. “Are you all right?”

The incident with Uri had pulled a long lock of silken hair from its pins. Elyna stood, staring out at the falling flakes and struggling to slide it back into place. Focused on her task, and frustrated she failed to notice the door move behind her. The maids must have some kind of magic to fix hair into place, because she knew that every attempt was just making it worse. A few more silken strands unravelled at her touch.

‘Mal?’ She turned in surprise when he spoke. ‘Your Grace,’ she struggled to correct her informality. What had he said? She’d been lost in her thoughts and the serenity that came from the falling snow.

‘A dance?’ The words fell into her mind, ‘oh…’ a small smile pulled at the curve of her lips as she met his gaze. ‘I had wanted to ask you,’ she admitted, ‘I uh couldn’t see you.’ Elyna wet dry lips with her tongue and let go of the hair she had been twisting between her fingertips. Her gaze falling to his collar instead. She wondered briefly if she should ask Malcolm to help her, but the act seemed far too intimate.

‘You’re here about Endor?’ She had heard him making his complaint, ‘I’m alright.’ Elyna let out the breath she had been holding. ‘He uh…well you can imagine.’ She turned to stare out into the night. It still made no sense to her that the woman that most hated these events seemed the biggest attraction. Her brows pulled together. Not everyone had her training, what happened to the women who weren’t able to defend themselves. Well, she knew that answer and she didn’t like it.

‘He wouldn’t take no for an answer,’ Elyna gave a slight shake of her head, her gaze still fixed on the darkness. The world was bleak, wasn’t it. ‘He laid hands on me, so I put him into an arm lock and released him with a warning,‘ her voice was flat, desolate as a lake in winter. If she hasn’t defended herself, what kind of complaint would she have been able to lodge against Uri Endor? What would he have taken from her, certainly more than a bruised pride.

Elyna pressed her lips together in a tight line, ‘I owe you an apology,’ she blinked fast. She had asked for a chance to speak with the Duke, this seemed to be it. ‘I meant what I said,’ her gaze dropped to the feather around his neck, ‘I meant every word…I’m sorry I was such a coward. I thought that I could stay until Blaze but I - I,’ she chewed on her bottom lip, eyes lined with tears. How could she explain the way he had haunted her? Even now, the memories of their stolen nights was enough to keep her warm, standing in the frozen night air.

Elyna had believed she could live in his shadow as he prepared to marry Penelope. She’d done it before with Yvan. But Malcolm was different, so different. It was like comparing a puddle to the ocean.

‘I’m sorry for any hurt that I caused you,’ she breathed and looked behind him at the doors. ‘For any trouble too.’ Maybe things had worked out for the best this way. He deserved better than someone who caused so much trouble.

If the duke was nervous, his body language did not betray him, nor the forefinger that brushed his thumb, so tramped to reach out and fix the threads of hair that hung defiantly against the woman’s cheek. His own hair was much longer than it should be, even with the last minute trim his head housekeeper had insisted upon before his bath the morning of the ball. It was fixed in loose curls at the edge of his face, shorter where it met the nape of his neck in a tidy v. The style almost seemed too young on him, he had thought while he had stood staring at the stranger in the mirror that morning.

The cold had been of no concern to him until the first breath hit his lungs and caused them to squeeze tight in his chest. They had robbed him of the ability to reply right away and so, Elyna had been able to say too much before he shook his head in protest. Had there really been any damage done? At worst the world believed they had been engaged for a year, at best that might have been true, but both her father and mother had refused to accept his enduring desire for such to be so. Malcolm had squashed any hope and, even when it was presented to him now by way of explanation, he did not right away recognise it. She was sorry? But should she be? What did she owe him?

Absolutely nothing…

“Might I suggest we step inside? Malcolm said, having found his voice.

He led the way through the double doors and those beyond to see them returned to the great hall. The voice in his head was loud, screaming, causing his heart to race. The thud in his ears that followed was fit to rival the noise of the crowd and the music that filled every inch of the grand space. The powerful, rich yet glassy eloquence of a violin cut through the cloud of noise and Malcolm let this ground him, giving him something to focus on other than the drumming of his heart. The mix of shrill, pure sound that fell away into soft solemn notes both sweet and veiled caused the skin of his arms to horripilate and chased a shiver up his spine. There was something altogether dark and magical about such an instrument, an old favourite of the dukes.

In that moment, the man wished he had the power to magic the throng away, leaving just the two of them. His thoughts toed the line of desire, taking him back to the brief moments that had once been possible. How deep had he buried the memory, only for it to race to the forefront of his mind with the ease of a candle wick bowing to flame. Here and now was not the right time to discuss what he could not bring himself yet to face. It was shock enough to see her in the flesh, but to know they would part so soon… Had he ever wished for a snowstorm to bed them in like he did now?

“Lord Krome,” Pavoo greeted him, Caelin at his side.

Malcolm blinked, having almost walked by the pair without notice. “Lord Burhan,” he replied. How did this look? Elyna in tow. Flushed, the man forced a smile that he appeared to achieve with such ease.

“Your grace.” Caelin nodded. “I see you have found our Elyna, no doubt out in the snow.” She accosted her daughter with a look. Caelin’s power was held in her eyes and the thin line her lips drew across her face. She had a way of rendering most people speechless, but failed to intimidate the duke.

“A breath of fresh air,” he said in her defence, “is often needed at these events.”

“Quite,” Caelin agreed with little more to add, almost as if she had imagined anything else but for the man to reply.

“Excuse me,” Malcolm said, “we are destined for the dance floor.” He refused to relinquish her so soon, even to her parents.

“One last dance, Elyna.” Caelin warned her daughter. “Your father and I would like to beat the weather back to the tavern.

Malcolm moved past the pair and turned to bid Elyna follow him with a look. If one more dance was all they had… “My lady.” He smiled, arm extended to offer his hand to her.

He gave no answer to her stumbling words and found it impossible to meet his gaze. Instead she gave a mute nod and followed the man. Feeling, not for the first time in his presence like a dog following her master. She had come to Mayce, expecting to watch him dancing with his new bride. She had prepared herself for that jealousy and intended to keep herself busy, distracted and as far away from the man as possible. Willing to dance with as many ridiculous suitors that her mother was willing to throw her way. Caelin had been pleased. This was all so much worse.

Her footsteps were light, she felt like a ghost floating along behind him. Separate from the world and those in it. There was only Malcolm and the promise of what had been, something beautiful which had been lost.

She spotted Caelin before the Duke and her body stiffened, as though turned to the ice beyond the doors. Her gaze moved between the man and her parents as she forced a smile. One last dance.

‘Of course, your Grace,’ she accepted the hand and curled her small fingers around his palm.

‘I’ll just fix your hair…’ Caelin advance and frowned at the escapee lock. After a moment she shook her head and proceeded to remove the rest of the pins like an expert, squirrelling them away in a pouch.

With her hair left to cascade in curled down her back, Elyna offered a faint smile ‘Please excuse us?’ She begged forgiveness and followed the Duke further onto the dance floor.

This fresh torture, was something she had not expected. At least he was kind enough to dance with her and save her any embarrassment. He had eased her way back into the room without drama.

Elyna swallowed the lump in her throat and set her free hand upon his shoulder. Her fingers curling a little in his shirt. How many times had she near torn the clothes from his back? Her heart skipped beats. Too many to remember. She forced herself to meet his gaze as they started to move, her first steps faltering with nerves. She stumbled, closing the gap between them as her knee brushed against his leg. She inhaled sharply and apologised, muttering as she looked down and corrected her own position.

‘I think I’d prefer to be dancing in the snow,’ she whispered. And the dance began again without incident. Although she found herself inevitably drifting closer to the man than was the norm for such formal events.

Was he simply indifferent as she had once suspected? If so, why did he wear her token? Or had she hurt him that badly with her lack of communication. That seemed unlikely, Malcolm had never said that he loved her…had she simply misinterpreted everything that had gone before? Was the token a reminder of the freedom he had once permitted himself and nothing more?

Elyna was not far behind him, choosing to linger with her parents a moment before she joined him on the dance floor. How was it the simple act of freeing her hair was enough to render him speechless? She met his gaze and he fell under her spell, just as he had all those seasons ago. There was no one else in the room. Not even a distant eruption in the Burning Mountains could win his attention now, so fixed on the beauty before him. How could he look away now or ever when everything about him gave him away in front of the whole kingdom.

Was it just lust? Malcolm had often wondered when he found himself alone with little else to dwell on. Were there traits of her personality he liked? She was without doubt impressive, determined, independent, and above all kind, but there was also a side to Elyna that made him weary. Her stubbornness, which seemed fit to rival his own, that quiet defiance he sensed in her, a total lack of communication skills and, of course, her rashness. She was impulsive, the total opposite of the man before her.

Malcolm had always been a planner and he liked to make those plans known, at least to the small circle of friends he trusted. Did Elyna have anyone she could trust, he wondered, why had she not trusted him?

She knocked him with a knee and he gave pause, temporarily shaken from the spell. Had he been at fault? Had he failed to lead? Malcolm looked down between them, composed himself and continued with the dance. Elyna had whispered something, though for the life of him he had not been able to hear it against the background noise. Had she used the words rather be? His mind fought to fill in the blanks. Rather be anywhere but here, alone in his arms? Should he, Malcolm wondered, extend the invite that had hung from the tip of his tongue since the second he had laid eyes on her this evening?

“I don’t know when you and your family intend to leave,” Malcolm said, “Mayce, that is. But if you find a moment, I think the two of us owe each other that much…”

Would she join him for a meal? Were there any he could escape between now and the next few days in which the noble families would choose to make their way down the mountain before the weather worsened towards the end of the season? “I could save you a trip,” he said, “and join you at the tavern for breakfast, or maybe…” Or maybe what, he paused. “We could go riding if weather permits?”

Yes, that would be ideal, he thought. It would give them some space away from the crowds to talk and reconnect. “Elyna?” Malcolm said. Did he still have her ear? He looked about the people who surrounded them, as if to be sure no one was intentionally prying. “I’m glad you’re home.” Malcolm told the woman once his gaze had found her again.

Did he know that he looked more like a wolf than ever? His dark hair curled around his ears like some kind of mane. Elyna was seized by a longing to reach up and run her fingers through it. A longing betrayed by the light movement of her thumb across his shirt.

With no one else, she felt like this. Sometimes there was peace, all the jumbled thoughts in her mind fell into place, calmed by the man before her. That exact peace felt just out of reach. With so much time and distance between them, she was nervous and found it difficult to hold his gaze.

Elyna tilted her head forward to listen to him. If her Mother had her wish, they would leave on the morrow. Elyna grimaced, ‘soon,’ she looked up and was caught in his gaze, ‘the plan is to leave very soon,’ she admitted and found herself unable to look away.

He put forward his suggestion and she couldn’t hide her smile, and didn’t try.

‘I’d like that, dinner, breakfast, a ride - any,’ she said with a small nod. Her gaze landed on the crowd beyond his shoulder, not that she could really see over it. ‘I’ll see what I can do, to delay my Mother’s plans,’ she finished quietly.

They’d danced in a wonderland, for just a moment, but she could hear the song was coming to an end. The violin left as the only instrument as it completed its refrain.

She closed her eyes a moment to savour the touch of his hand against her own, the scent of his skin beneath the soap of a recent bath. His voice drifted over her ear and she bowed her head a little before looking up at him.

Elyna wet dry lips, searching those green eyes for answers. There was far too much that she wanted to say, but I’m so public a forum it wasn’t appropriate to blurt out how much she had missed him. Nor was it a time to voice the question held on her tongue.

‘I’m glad to be home,’ she gave the only reply she could in such company. Her eyes scanned his once more, urging him to read more into the words she couldn’t say. Desperately she wanted to lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, but forbade herself. Unwilling to embarrass him before the crowd.

She could see her Mother folding her arms at the edge of the dancefloor, a signal if there ever was one.

Elyna took a small step back, releasing his hand with reluctance. ‘Thank you for the dance,’ she gave a half smile before pressing her first two fingers of her left gently to her lips, as if the kiss she were forbidden to bestow. A subtle movement, easily missed or mistaken for simply touching her own face.

‘Good night, Mal…I’m really glad I came this evening.’

Elyna refused to look away as she retreated back towards the crowd and was collected up by her Mother and a maid with a heavy blue cloak swept over her shoulders. Pavoo had rounded up Edmund and the Burhans made their departure.