Free Fireblood by Trisha Wolfe Page A

mine, resting his cheek against my temple. “See,” he whispers in my ear, his breath warm on my skin. “This isn’t so bad.”
    I don’t respond. I can’t. If I open my mouth in this moment, everything will fly out. He’s forcing me to marry him, to be a queen, and sit idly by as he rules his realm with malice and fear. I want nothing to do with that, and I detest him and this era for not allowing me a say in my own future, and this shattered world for taking my father.
    I won’t rule over a kingdom where everyone you love is taken by some Virus no one understands. Where everyone pretends Karm isn’t a neat lie woven into a pretty package meant to deceive us about the horrid truth of our reality. Most days, I wonder if everyone is being fed some drug that keeps them in a lucid daze, and somehow, I’m the only one immune.
    The music switches tempo, and bodies break apart as the beat demands a fast-paced dance. I separate from Sebastian, but his hands linger on my waist.
    “Well, thank you for the dance,” I say. “But I’m too tired from today’s events to entertain you further.” I curtsy slightly, keeping my eyes on him.
    He nods. “I’m pleased with our first dance,” he says, and I arch an eyebrow. “Let me escort you back to the table.” He offers me his arm.
    I accept it, latching my fingers onto his solid arm, and suspect he’s flexing. Sebastian is built well; I’ll admit to that. He has a tight, muscular form that makes the girls of Karm swoon, but his arrogance ruins the effect. The appalling words that fall from his mouth shatter the illusion.
    “Prince Sebastian,” a high-pitched voice calls from behind us. I turn with Sebastian as he guides me to face a perfectly polished young maiden. No doubt a lady of the court, flawlessly packaged in a gleaming silver dress, as if she stepped right out of a painting.
    Sebastian tips his head forward. “Miss Cecily.” He pivots my way. “I don’t believe you’ve had the privilege of meeting my betrothed.”
    Cecily’s gleaming blue eyes sweep over me, very apparently. “Congratulations on your engagement. It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Princess Zara.” She curtsies low.
    “Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Cecily.” I attempt to mimic her expert curtsy, but feel I’m not quite as lithe.
    Her lips twitch, and she covers her mouth with a gloved hand. I scrunch my eyebrows and look at Sebastian, but his face is stoic. I realize my blunder. Madity coached me not to bow or curtsy to others of a lower station now that I’m considered royalty. Heat splashes my cheeks.
    Cecily doesn’t acknowledge my ignorance for long. She quickly moves her gaze to Sebastian. “You’re not going to sit out the Branle, are you, Prince Sebastian?” She twirls a perfectly coiled blonde curl around her finger.
    Standing awkwardly by his side, I look up to Sebastian as he clears his throat. “Actually, my princess needs a respite.” His eyes glance at me. “She’s weary from today’s events.”
    I open my mouth to agree, but Cecily cuts in. “It would be an honor to dance in her stead.” She moves closer to Sebastian. “I would hate for you to miss out on your favorite dance.” She puckers her mouth into a pout.
    Oh, for heaven’s sake . “Please, Miss Cecily,” I say. “I’d appreciate you keeping the prince entertained while I rest.” I give Sebastian a curt nod, then quit their company before my supper makes an unwanted appearance on the dance floor.
    As I weave my way toward the table, I force my jaw to unclench. If dancing with Sebastian and laughing at my lack of etiquette gives this noble girl satisfaction, so be it. It only vexes me a small amount that she believes she’s… well, vexed me.
    I settle down in my chair and release a heavy breath. Lugging my gown around is tiring work, though at least Madity removed the train after the ceremony. I find myself missing her company as I watch the nobles dance and laugh.