“Is he actually racing?” I asked Morgaine.
She laughed when she looked at him. “In a gentlemanly fashion, but yes, I believe he is.”
“Oh dear. If they both get to me at the same time, how do I choose which one to dance with first?”
“The one on the right,” Morg said. “You offer your right hand, so go with the one on the right.”
My dress tugged lightly around my hips as I took each step, the skirt flowing out behind me like a shadow. When I stopped on the last step, the room came to a standstill, aside from my moving counterparts. I bowed my head to the crowd and ushered them to continue, giving a wave of my hand.
“Good job,” Morgaine reassured under her breath.
“Thanks,” I said through a smile, not taking my eyes off the room.
They all moved again, joining to dance as a song began, and Arthur stepped up, beating Mike to the queen, and took my hand. “Amara, may I have this dance?”
“It would be my pleasure,” I said, refusing to look at Mike.
We wandered, hand in hand, to the middle of the room, and Arthur took me in his arms like a delicate treasure. “You are a picture of beauty, Amara.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, turning my cheek to hide the flushing.
He leaned in and kissed me gently where the heat in my face burned, but as he drew a breath against my skin, his eyes shifted to one side, like a thought escaped him, making his body slightly stiff. He stood taller and looked across the room, then to the doors leading onto the balcony.
“Are you okay, Arthur?”
“Of course.” He relaxed then and held me closer, guiding my careless feet into a gentle glide. But I felt the tension in his shoulders still, and it made my heart beat a little too fast, hoping he hadn't smelled David on me. “You ask of my well-being, Amara, but something seems to be troubling you.”
“Oh, um, no.” I forced a smile. “I was just thinking how much I love the way all you old vampires dance. It’s so…formal.”
He laughed, his cool breath brushing the corner of my eye. “Well, I don't imagine the Nutbush would go down too well at one of these events.”
“You can do the Nutbush?”
He just laughed again. We passed Mike then, who still looked like he’d lost his best friend, so to speak. I felt bad for him, but Arthur did, after all, make it to me first.
“This was Arietta’s,” Arthur noted, touching my shoulder.
“Yes.” I looked up from his hand. “David kept it when she died. Morgaine thought it might make missing him tonight less painful.”
Arthur held me a little closer; I could feel a delicacy to his energy, like he was charged with the kind of adrenaline you get when you have to say something you don't want to. “I wish I could make a potion that would ease a broken heart.”
“Friendship helps.” I squeezed his hand; he squeezed back.
“You're very much like her, you know.” He nodded to the bracelet on my wrist—the one David gave me the night before our wedding.
“Like who?” I asked inquisitively.
“Like his mother—Elizabeth.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“How so?”
He rested his chin against the top of my head. “She was petite, like you—pretty, with remarkable eyes. But it’s mostly your personality which reminds me of her; your passion, your girlish confusion.” He smiled fondly, looking down at me. “When I'm with you, it makes me miss her.”
“You knew her well?”
“We were very close. Perhaps that is why I fell so in love with her sister.”
I understood that only too well.
“May I cut in,” Mike interrupted, tapping Arthur on the shoulder; the politely formal request to hand over the damn girl.
As Mike waited patiently, another song already beginning, Arthur turned his back to him and lowered his lips to my ear. “I wonder if I might steal you for a quiet word?”
“No!” Mike answered for me.
“I promise to bring her back.” Arthur faced him, blocking my view.
“Yes,” I spoke over Arthur’s shoulder and gave Mike the don’t-you-dare frown. “Just for a moment.”
Mike studied Arthur through a narrowed glare.
“I’ll be fine.” I stepped around Arthur and rested my palm on Mike’s chest, pushing him gently away. “Go dance with Emily—she’s going home tomorrow.”
“Ara?” He grabbed my arm as I turned away.
“What?”
“It’s just—” He wrapped his fingers loosely around my wrist, scratching his head with his other hand. “It’s just…the last time I left you in another man’s arms at a ball—”
“Oh, Mike?” My heart melted; I slid my arms around his waist, pressing every inch of my chest to his. “It’s okay. I'm not human anymore, I—”
“That won’t stop you from being hurt.” He stood back, eyeing Arthur.
“I trust Arthur, Mike—for what it’s worth.” I glanced between the two of them. “But, if it makes you feel any better, you can stand here and watch us.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Mike stared me down. “Why are you being so reasonable?”
I tried to hold back from laughing. “Because I realised, Mike, how much I need you, and…”
He waited, smiling expectantly. “And?”
“And…most of the time, you actually turn out to be right about things.”
His eyes narrowed with a smile. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
I laughed, balancing on my toes to kiss his cheek. “I love you, okay.”
“I know.”
I took Arthur’s hand and as we walked through the doors to the balcony, turned back to look at Mike. “We’ll be right outside. I promise.”
He folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe. “And I’ll be right here.”
I shook my head, feeling more love than anger for Mike and his over-protection.
Under the light of the stars outside, the cool breeze filled my lungs with a fresh, floral scent. Once far enough away from Mike’s aura of tension, we stopped by the marble ledge of the balcony, overlooking the small garden we sat in on the first day I came here. I smiled at the swing, still seeing us sitting there, arguing. It seemed like so long ago—and even then, I knew so little compared to what I know now. It made me feel older, in a good way.