Protected by Emeralds (A Dance with Destiny Book 5) (10 page)

“Longfellow.”

Her brow furrowed. “What kind of fellow?”

Suou chuckled. “Henry Longfellow. He was a poet of renown and a great storyteller of old. My mother used to say that rhyme every time I tore my clothes or made a mess in my room.” He buried his nose in her curls, inhaling deeply. “I changed it up a bit for you, Kagi Naga. It seems to suit you better than me, anyway.”

“My mother was a storyteller as well,” she whispered, blindly staring out the window, her mind on the many mistakes of her past. “I thought that rhyme came from Ashgard. Yes, it does suit me. You have no idea just how right you are, Milord. No idea at all.”

He hugged her just a bit tighter and swayed slightly, as if they were dancing to an unheard melody. Giant knots swelled up in her stomach.

His nose tickled her ear when next he spoke. “I can hardly believe the horrible things that spill unchecked from your lovely mouth. As I said before, fascinating.” He softly chuckled. “And if I were ever so blessed as to
know
you, Naga. It would not be as crude as what must be playing about in your mind. You are the farthest thing imaginable from a beast. I would never
mount
you. Nor would I ever shame you… as I had to do when first we met. Had there been any other way to tend your wounds, I would never have removed your clothing minus your knowledge and permission.” He turned her to face him then. “No. I will count myself lucky if I am granted but one dance. I will wish for nothing more, not yet.” He winked playfully.

She audibly released the long breath she had been holding. Blessed relief filled her heart.

“Gratitude, Your Highness, and forgive me. Yes, I fear I am unpolished at best. It is but one of my many flaws.”

“If all your flaws are as entertaining, I should hope you to be made of nothing else. Flaws alone would suffice.”

She blushed. “Well, that’s certainly one wish I can easily grant.”

“And what of my other? Shall you grant it as well?”

His face lit up like a child’s—a child intent upon mischief, eyes sparkling with the coming excitement of it.

She looked into those big, wonder-filled eyes.
If he had wanted anything more of me, he could have simply taken it. If his mind is not intent upon carnal pleasure, what could one little dance hurt?
She sighed resignedly. “Very well, Prince Suou. But only one.” She held up a single finger as she spoke.

“Of course, only one.” His dark eyes blazed with anticipation. “But it must be of
my
choosing.”

She nodded. “Aye, Milord. That it will be.”

Chapter 8

Jenevier

(ZHEN-ah-veer)

The bubbles tickled her nose. Champagne was something new to her. She found the color alone to be positively captivating. Holding the sparkling glass flute under her nose, she inhaled the faint rose scent.

She smiled to herself.
A lovely shade of pink… it’s just too cute not to drink
, she thought.
I must remember to take some of this back to share with Vittorio. He will love it.

When Suou handed her a third glass, she giggled. He looked down at her from the corner of his eye and smiled.

“Are you enjoying yourself, colorful little Princess?”

“I suppose I am.” She giggled again. “Now that everyone has stopped staring at me, this party isn’t so bad. It is quite lovely, actually.” She looked up at him then. “Oh, but I am not a Princess, Sire.”

He lifted a single eyebrow. “Is that so? And would you like to be?”

He almost chuckled out loud at the serious look that crossed her face—deep concentration furrowing her brow.

“Can you be a Princess and an Empress at the same time?”

He strangled on his champagne. “No,” he choked out. “I believe the title of Princess disappears once you are crowned Empress.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh well… sorry to disappoint you, Prince Suou, but I cannot be your Princess. I have been Empress of Jinn for many years now. I am afraid my people will not release me so easily.” She sighed. “Seems they love me, and I them… madly.”

The sullen butler whispered in his Prince’s ear. Suou gave him a single quick nod, sending the scowling-faced Izaru disappearing into the crowd.

“Would you like another?”

Suou replaced her nearly empty glass with a fresh one, minus her answer.

“Apologies, but I believe I am done, Your Highness. I probably shouldn’t have any more. This seems to affect me differently than does wine.” She absently took a drink as she spoke. “When shall we dance, Milord? I hate to be rude, but I absolutely must be going before too much longer. Vittorio will be hurt by my absence, and I’m certain Daichi will be exceedingly cross with me. He will either yell at me until dawn, or refuse to speak to me entirely.” She continued to ramble. “He may even be gone from the palace. I hurt him so badly one time… he hid from me. I ended up in such bad shape, I nearly cracked. Literally, that time. I was minus my color and full of darkness…” She paused a moment. “Just thinking about it vexes me sore. I would like to gut that damn soul-eater. Perhaps I shall. When next we meet, I will not be lulled by those enchanting silver eyes of his, no. Next time, I vow—”

“Naga!” Uriel shouted.

She turned toward the giant Angel. “Oh, Uriel. Has it been an hour already?”

“It has been nearly two,” he hissed angrily.

“Apologies, Arch.” She lifted her glass to him. “But the Prince kindly let me off the whole bedding thing and settled for the dance only.” She giggled and took another sip of champagne.

“Naga… what have you done?” He sniffed her. “Are you… are you drunk?”

She felt Suou’s nose tickling her ear. “I see your friend has returned.” He gently slid his arm around her waist.

She looked up at the smiling, handsome man. “Oh, can you see him now?”

He chuckled softly. “No, Naga. I am afraid that is a talent you alone possess.” He lightly patted the small of her back as he released her.

“Madam?” A deep voice came from Jenevier’s left. “May I?”

She turned to find a stranger bowing to her, face toward the ground.

“May you what?” she asked, confused.

He looked up at her. “May I have this dance?”

She looked at the man for a moment, before turning back to the Prince, giving his black formal jacket a tiny tug.

“Umm… Your Highness, is this the dance you wanted?”

Suou was busy speaking to a group of young noble ladies. They were smiling and batting their lashes at him. He turned to her, smiling kindly. “No, my dear. Not just yet,” he said, before his attention was pulled back to his admiring guests.

“Very well, then.” She looked back to the deep-voiced stranger, inclining her head. “Yes, kind sir. I would be honored.”

“Ahh, but the honor would be all mine.” He held his hand out to her, palm up. “My name is Kazuto, Akio Kazuto.”

“Pleased to meet you.” She bowed in her Dragon manner. “I am Naga, Kagi Naga.”

He gently took her hand, gracefully leading her away. “Ahh, Kagi Naga, is it? I must say, I have never met a woman named after a Dragon.”

She quickly set her empty glass on a passing tray. “Never have you met a woman such as I,” she mumbled to herself.

Kazuto proved to be an accomplished dancer. He swept her around lightly, flowing to the graceful music. She silently thanked Vittorio for the private lessons he had given her so many years ago.

After what felt like at least their second song together, perhaps it was even their third, a rather stiff acting gentleman stepped in and took her out of Kazuto’s arms.

“It is not proper to spend so much time with only one partner,” the stranger said.

“Apologies.” Kazuto looked to her. “I forgot myself, Milady. Your beauty erased my sense of time and propriety. Forgive me.” He bowed.

“Not at all.” She smiled. “Gratitude for the lovely dance, Lord Kazuto.”

The brusque stranger tightened his hold upon her, whispering in her ear. “The Prince has been looking for you. Do not leave his side again.”

She then looked up into the stranger’s face. “Izaru?”

Jenevier started to struggle, but his arm was like a vise about her waist.

“Do not,” he hissed. “I assure you, Milady. You will not win in a struggle against
me
. Behave yourself and you may come out of this with only some slight bruising.”

His smile was forced and showy as he began spinning her about the floor with elegantly precise movements. When the song had finished, Izaru escorted her back to the Prince’s side. She jerked her arm free of his cold grasp and they glared at each other.

“I will say this only once, Izaru.” She narrowed her eyes threateningly. “Handle me thusly again, and your father’s name will end with you. I will painfully remove your
desire
for descendants. This I vow.”

The man looked as if he were going to growl at her. “And I will eagerly remove your tongue before you leave this palace,” he spat. “Consider that a promise.”

Jenevier smiled timidly toward the Prince. “Your Highness, would you mind if Izaru and I took a little stroll?” She gracefully laced her arm through the butler’s, enraging him further. “It won’t take long. We have something to discuss, he and I. We will return momentarily. Well…
I
will. Now, if you will excuse us?” She curtsied politely.

“No. I wish you by my side.” Suou took her hand, gently pulling her closer, tucking her against his side. “And I fear my butler would not live through the experience.” The Prince cut his eyes toward the other man as he spoke. “I yet have need of him…
and
his descendants.” He smiled teasingly at the man.

Izaru stomped off in a huff.

“You elicit such strong emotions from people, little one.” Suou chuckled. “They either love you madly, or despise you terribly.”

“Aye, tell me aboot it.” She smiled. Well, more like, she smirked. “Which way do you suppose Izaru leans, Your Highness? Love or hate?”

The Prince strangled on his drink. “I can say with all honesty, little Sakura. I have never been quite so entertained.”

He was still smiling down at her as she looked back out at the swaying crowd. She sighed.

“Suou, can we please just dance now? I have enjoyed your company, sort of. But I truly need to be leaving.”

He handed her another fluted glass of the bubbly pink liquid. “Spare me just a few moments more. I beg you.”

She took the proffered glass and glanced back at the colorfully arrayed, happy guests.

“Are you bored, Sakura?”

Suou startled her when he spoke.

“No, Your Highness. I am fine.”

Her eyes met Kazuto’s. He gave her a tiny wave. She returned the gesture.

The Prince softly cleared his throat. “If you wish a partner, Milady, let it be me. I can dance with you. If you so desire.”

She looked up at him. He was blushing and didn’t meet her gaze.

“Is it time, then? Are you ready for our dance?”

“No, Sakura. I am not speaking of the
special
dance you promised me as payment.” He looked down to gauge her reaction. “I meant, for pleasure only.”

She smiled at him and crinkled up her nose. “I am fine, Suou, really. You still have many people to greet. And I am certain to garner more than just a few hateful glares if I monopolize
all
your time. If I wish to dance, I shall do so with the
commoners
.” She giggled. “Continue to rub your royal elbows with the upper echelon of your kingdom, Sire. Leave the lowly masses to me.”

“He is no commoner.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

She turned to Prince Suou. Following his piercing gaze, she found an equally ill-looking Kazuto.

“Do you have any idea how I felt when I caught a flash of pink curls spinning around to the music?”

She let her gaze drop to her nearly empty champagne glass.

“I felt like I was going to be sick.” His clenched fists were shaking at his sides. “When I saw who it was that held you, when I saw
his
arms around your waist,
his
hands touching your delicate body… I couldn’t breathe.”

“Things are moving beyond your control, Naga,” Uriel said. “Something dark is boiling within these gilded walls and I cannot tell what is going to come of it. Get out now. Excuse yourself for personal reasons, don your wings, and get the hell out of here.”

But you said—

“Just do it!” the Angel barked.

She gently touched Suou’s white knuckles. He relaxed with the warmth of their exchange as Jenevier slowly laced her fingers through his. He stilled in her hands, his trembling ceasing. Turning toward her, she watched as the tension visibly melted from his shoulders.

“Prince Suou, forgive me.” She tenderly caressed his cheek as she whispered, “I was careless. I did not realize your feelings were so strong where I am concerned. I favor no man here, save you. You are my hero.” She softly smiled. “You laid low one of the vilest men in your kingdom. You carried my pitiful form, who knows how far. And you went without sleep for days. All these things you did for a mere stranger. You are a Crown Prince. Yet you stayed in an abandoned shack—minus food and all else—ministering to a dying woman who had not another soul in this world. You take
my
breath away, Prince Suou. I am in awe of
you
, of your noble heart.”

“You are the strangest, most intoxicating woman I have ever known.” His watery eyes danced as he gazed down at her. “Your beautiful words are an enchantment upon my heart.”

She blushed and lowered her eyes. “I promise not to leave your side a moment more this entire evening, except…” She paused.

He chuckled softly. “Except what?”

She leaned in closer and tiptoed, trying to get as near to his ear as possible. “I have to go pee.”

His responding laughter was louder than he had meant it to be, garnering them more than a few stares.

“You say the most inappropriate things,
Empress Naga
.” He winked at her and placed her tiny hand on his arm. “I will take you where you need to go.”

“No, please.” She balled the lapel of his jacket up in her fist. “Do not leave your honored guests. Just point the way, sweet Prince. I will make do. I promise.”

He chuckled. “Very well, then.”

Prince Suou couldn’t help but smile as he watched her colorful curls weaving through the crowd toward the main doors.

“Why is it you act so sweet and innocent at certain times? Then you turn into an absolute spawn of hell at others? How do you switch back and forth so easily, little sister?”

She shook her head. “Uriel, Uriel, Uriel… I am whatever I need to be. Just like you, Brother. Besides, I’m a woman. It is our right and inherent nature to be whatever the hell we feel like being. Problem?”

“See? Just like that. You were all puppy dog eyes and rainbows just now with the Prin—”

“Just shut it, Uriel. How many times have you told me…
We are who we need to be
? Hmm? And you, Brother, you damn sure don’t need puppy dog eyes from me. A fat lip, yes. Puppy dog eyes? Never.”

As she left the formal hall, Jenevier turned right and started counting doors. She really did need to relieve herself—too much champagne.

Four. Five. Ah, here it is. Door number six.

When she placed her hand on it to give it a push, someone grabbed her from behind.