Unveiled

Free Unveiled by Trisha Wolfe

Book: Unveiled by Trisha Wolfe Read Free Book Online
Authors: Trisha Wolfe
 
     
     
     
    Chapter 1
     
     
    The torches cast eerie, affecting shadows against the stone walls as the celebration heightens and the dancing begins. Candlelight flickers from each table in the ceremonial hall of Karm Castle, and I watch as the little flame before me bows, then sways to the music.
     
    I think how easy it would be to snuff out that tiny flame and a shiver crawls along my spine, knowing that’s exactly why I’m here.
     
    The kingdom of Karm surrounds us. The air we breathe, the grass, the water, the sky above—with its faint shimmer of voltage. Karm protects us from Outside. The wasteland.
     
    It’s home.
     
    And it’s death.
     
    The cream satin dress irritates my skin. Its lacy bodice scathes, and I wish I was hidden in the shadows, watching and lurking, rather than openly attending Prince Sebastian’s betrothal ceremony. At least then I could wear my usual all-black gear.
     
    King Hart’s son, Sebastian, and his newly acquired bride-to-be, Zara, sit at a table at the head of the ceremonial hall. Zara’s expression looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here. I’m with you, honey.
     
    I scan the dancing citizens, then focus my attention across the room. As entertaining as it is to swoon over the celebrity couple, I have to keep my eyes on the dark haired guy in the navy blue uniform. Xander.
     
    My mark.
     
    I’ve trained my whole life for this day. While other girls were attending etiquette class, learning how to curtsy and talk like someone from the Dark Ages, I was learning how to fight and track prey. Using the woods as my training ground. Away from the ever watchful eye of the Force.
     
    The Force are the keepers of order and era in Karm. Only I’m not sure even they know what the true year is. King Hart says it’s 2130. My mentor believes it’s closer to the twenty-third century.
     
    “ Excuse me,” a voice says from behind, interrupting my concentration.
     
    Backing away from the table, I turn toward the voice. A guy dressed in era wardrobe, a blue vest with black tunic and pants, stands beside me, smiling. I smile back. “Yes?”
     
    He bows, offering me his hand. “Would you care for a dance, Miss . . .?”
     
    Refraining from rolling my eyes, I accept his hand and offer of a dance. “Thank you. And Miss Fallon,” I say, but skip over the pleasantries. I’m not a fan of the ridiculous way King Hart has us speak. I’ve read enough books and seen clips from salvaged movies in the rebel camp to know it wasn’t common before the Final War. Although, it’s a difficult habit to break, having only ever known this life myself.
     
    He guides me toward the center of the hall, and for a moment I’m angry that he’s disturbed my surveillance. But then I realize this will get me closer to my mark. And spying on Xander while dancing looks less conspicuous then gawking at him from across the room.
     
    Lifting the hem of my dress, I curtsy before him, then allow him to take my hand and lead me in the Ronde. I grab the hand of the person next to me and skip, following the ring of people circling the room. We break to clap, then join hands and skip again. The enchanted music from mandolins and flutes echoes through the hall combined with laughter from celebrating citizens. I’m having a hard time keeping Xander in my sight as we round the room.
     
    Finally the dance ends, and I take a deep breath. I move out of the circle, but my dance partner clasps my hand, halting my retreat. “Another dance, Miss Fallon?” His blue eyes shimmer in the dim candlelight.
     
    The music slows, and the staccato beat moves the bodies in tight embraces around us. I give a half-nod. “Certainly.” I have to keep a low profile, but I also need to rid myself of this guy. At some point, I must make my move on the knight.
     
    The guy wraps his arms around my waist, his warm hand pressed to my lower back. I relax into his arms, molding myself against his embrace. As he leads, I’m stuck

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