Spellbound

Chapter 2

    Senya sipped on her wine and stared at the crowd before her over the rim of her goblet. She was standing next to a pillar, using her drink as a way of occupying herself while Liane prattled on about all the rich boys gathered at the party. As much as she loved Liane, sometimes the girl could get a little too excited about the prospect of romance.

    It was surprising, considering Liane’s aunt was the founder of the Royal Sisterhood Purgehouse, a secret purgehouse made up entirely of women who worked directly under the royal council’s command. Well, it had been secret until much recently. Hethel had never been one for romance and had been a mentor to Liane, yet the two of them were polar opposites.

    When the last droplet of wine had slid down her throat, Senya set down the goblet on a table. Wine did little to her, courtesy to the magic she’d inherited from her mother.

    “Oh, look!” Liane linked her arm over Senya’s and pointed a boy standing among a flock of ladies. He was chatting pleasantly, a charismatic smile set on his face as if it had been carved on there, and his light brown hair was so sleek with oil that it gleamed under the lamps. He wore a prim suit, down to a blue bowtie and, of course, the emblem of his house attached on his breast.

    “Etan Cook, son of the greatest chefs in Plathea!” Liane gushed. “They say his inheritance is worth more than fifty million loncs and that his family only cooks for the royal family. I can’t believe he’s here in Giligha!”

    Senya frowned. “He’s a bit short for me. I bet I’m taller than him even without my heeled slippers.”

    “Senya!” Liane exclaimed. “Don’t be rude.”

    Senya shrugged. “It’s not like anyone here will be interested in me, anyway. I mean, look at me.” Senya scowled at her tights, short dress, and loose tunic. An outdoorsy attire because she had stupidly decided to climb out the window instead of sneaking out the front door. She was surprised they even let her into the party.

    Liane flipped her short, brown hair. It was curled and set loose above her shoulders, giving her a youthful, fresh look as opposed to the uptight, prim hairstyles most girls in the party wore.

    “I don’t see the problem, Senya.” Liane scanned her up and down. “You look great.”

    “Yeah, right.” Senya crossed her arms and scoffed. “Easy enough for you to say. You’re wearing a ball gown. I, on the other hand, am sticking out like a sore thumb.”

    And Liane looked good. The girl wasn’t exactly petite, but she had a gentleness about her that attracted a good amount of suitors. She was lean and shorter than Senya, carrying a good bit of muscle from the training she’d received in Hethel’s purgehouse, and there was just something about the color yellow that suited her so well.

    Senya was taller than most girls. It wasn’t surprising, considering how tall her father was, but she wasn’t particularly pleased with her height, especially when slippers elevated her even more.

    “Anyway,” Senya said, stretching her arms out in front of her. “Where’re Veira and Ellaine? Weren’t they supposed to meet us here an hour ago?”

    Liane shrugged. “Who knows? Ellaine’s probably out there charming some guy into giving her his loncs, and Veira might be lost trying to find her way to the washroom.”

    “Typical.”

    “And…” Liane nudged Senya’s side. “Alton might be here, too.”

    Senya folded her arm, protecting her ribs from Liane’s elbow, and scowled. “So?”

    Alton Knight, son of Torren—captain of the Urthan Purgehouse and long-time friend of her mother. There was a point in time when Senya had some interest in Alton, but that had faded away when he couldn’t read the hints she practically threw at his face. She had gotten over him. At least, she thought she did, but then again, Senya hadn’t seen Alton in a while. Not since Rellon had started cooping himself up with those medical books and stopped inviting Alton over.

    “What do you mean, so?” Liane huffed. “I’m telling you, I’m going to make this work. You and Alton.” She clasped her hands together and pressed them against her cheek, sighing as though she was admiring an eligible duke. “So romantic. Childhood friends who realize their true feelings for each other, a budding relationship that deepens until love blossoms into golden flowers.”

    “That doesn’t make any sense.” Senya rolled her eyes. “And besides, Veira and Ellaine are my friends, not Alton. He’s Relly’s friend.”

    “Oh!” Liane’s eyes brightened. “That reminds me. How is your brother these days?”

    “I don’t know.” Senya snagged another goblet of wine from a passing waiter. “He’s always holed up in his room or out attending one of those fancy clubs for smart people. I barely see him.”

    “Aw, pity.” Liane snapped her fingers. “I was hoping he might have come with you.”

    Senya gagged. She still couldn’t understand what Liane saw in her brother. He was so uptight about everything and could never take a joke. And he was so…boring. Work, work, work, that was all he cared about. Where was his sense of adventure? It had been prevalent in their childhood, but something had happened, and he had completely changed into a boring book-obsessed arse.

    “Sometimes,” Senya said, shaking her head, “I think you need to focus on your brother instead of mine.”

    “Nonsense. Leril is—” Liane grabbed Senya’s wrist, effectively throwing the goblet out of her hand and onto the ground. Wine splashed over the white tableclotch. “See! I told you! I told you he’d be here!”

    Senya followed Liane’s pointed finger and went rigid. There he was, standing tall and proud in his black suit and black bowtie. The golden emblem of a sword in a shield of the Knight family was embroidered on his coat. His sleek, golden-brown hair was tied back in a short tail, though a few strands framed his square jaw. Moreover, he was tall.

    Senya cursed. She’d always been weak when it came to taller men, and Alton had always managed to score high in that regard. Not to mention that he’d inherited his father’s piercing blue eyes that bore into her soul.

    “He’s coming over,” Liane whispered.

    He was. Those blue eyes met Senya’s, and Alton immediately began making his way towards the girls. Senya wrung her hands and wiggled her toes against her shoes. She half-wanted to strangle Liane for predicting the future, but that was a little too irrational for Senya’s liking.

    There was no escaping him. Alton was imposing, tall and broad-shouldered. He had entered the purgehouse as a cadet at the same time as Rellon and had stayed there to train when Rellon dropped out. Even with his tailored suit, Senya could see that he was well-muscled beneath those layers.

    “Senya.” Her name rolled off his tongue like honey. Smooth, viscous…sweet. “Liane. It’s been a while. How’s Rellon?”

    Senya’s lips thinned. “He’s fine. Where’s Veira and Ellaine?”

    “I wouldn’t know.” Alton grinned, and Senya’s heart stopped. Out of everything he had, it was this that had the most power over her. The mischief glinting in his eyes, the easy grin that lit up a room and relieved the atmosphere of all and any tension. This was what she had seen and thought about when she was old enough to be curious, interested in boys.

    Liane cleared her throat, coughing for good measure. “Excuse me, Senya. I’ll go look for them.”

    “What?” Senya panicked. “Wait, Liane!”

    But her oblivious (or perhaps too observant) friend had slipped away into the crowd. Senya stiffened, unsure of how to act. Her short skirt and brown tunic were becoming more and more noticeable. She self-consciously patted herself down. At least, her soft, black hair was nicely styled with braids running along both her temples and meeting at the back of her head.

    Alton, as usual, was relaxed. He held a goblet between two long fingers and was swishing the wine contained inside.

    “So, what brings you to Reina’s ball?” Senya asked. She tried not to scowl at the mention of the rich girl who threw balls for her peers almost every Daisees. Anyone with connections to any nobles could attend; Senya only went to Reina’s parties to loosen up with her friends. And to meet possible suitors that would take her mind off of Alton.

    “Oh, she invited me herself.” Alton waved a hand as if it was nothing. “She encouraged me to ask Relly to come along as well, but you know your brother. He never likes these sorts of things.”

    Senya gave into the scowl tugging at her lips. Once again, her brother’s popularity with girls her age astounded her. She suspected most of it had to do with the confidence he carried with him and how proper and polite he always was outside the house. If only they knew how annoying he could be.

    “Yes, that’s good.” Senya shrugged. “If anything, Rellon would have only dulled the party. It’s lackluster as it is already. I don’t need my no-nonsense brother dampening it even more.”

    Alton chuckled. “You give him way too little credit, Senya. Rellon knows how to have fun…when it comes to it.”

    “Sure, sure.” Senya snatched the wine from him and finished it all the way. “I mean, you find the strangest ways to have fun, and I’m sure even Rellon isn’t immune to whatever you do for your own entertainment.”

    “I was still drinking that…”

    Senya burst out laughing. Her initial tension dissipated. How had she forgotten that this was what made Alton so attractive to her? Somehow, no matter what situation he found himself in, Alton managed to keep the atmosphere lighthearted and relaxed. There was a reason he was popular in noble circles, even if he never had any interest in any clubs begging him to join.

    But they were worlds apart. Senya sobered at the thought. Alton wasn’t an option for her. Being the eldest son of the Knight family, he was the heir to the Knight estate, and at his current age, marriage offers were pouring in from left and right. With so many high-class options, there was no way Alton could choose someone like Senya. Daughter of a commander, daughter of a witch.

    “Hmm.” Alton’s arms were crossed, and he inclined his head towards the musicians on a small dais. “I like this song. It’d be a pity to miss a dance on this one. Senya, do you want to be my partner?”

    A blush colored Senya’s cheeks. She looked from his offered hand to beyond his shoulder, where a group of girls were watching with a scarily disdainful intensity. She hesitated, and Alton glanced back to see what had spooked her.

    “Senya,” he said, settling his piercing ocean eyes back to her. “Ignore them.”

    “But I’m not even dressed—”

    “Who cares?” Alton took the liberty of grabbing her hand himself. “You’re here to have fun, aren’t you? Don’t let the opinions of other people get in the way of that.”

    Senya’s heart fluttered. “Alton…”

    He smiled, and Senya’s worries melted away. He was right. Since when did she ever care about what other people thought? She was Senya Bentham, the most stubborn, hardheaded person she knew. Not even Rellon could compete with her. She set down the goblet on the table.

    “Okay.”

    Senya allowed Alton to lead her to the dance floor, and she focused only his large hand engulfing hers and the warmth of his hard chest pressed close to her. Everything else melted away, save for the sweet melody that enriched the air like a heavenly aroma.

    Perhaps for a little while, Senya didn’t have to think about anything else. Perhaps until the song ended, she could imagine that Alton was hers, and when it ended, she would let him go forever.