I stand at the edge of the ballroom, the open doors to the courtyard ushering in a much-needed breeze. I lift my head to the air, slowly breathing it in. Hearing the sound of boots and heels on marble.
“These parties are so silly.”
The voice is nasally and sharp. Carrington stands in front of me, his castle guard dress uniform a rich emerald green, red hair chopped short, blue eyes bright and humorous.
“Think you will find yourself a lady here?” he asks in a joking voice.
“Funny,” I respond with little humor. “You know I cannot have a lady. It is forbidden under Seer law. It taints the blood of Seers.”
Most people who know me know I do not enjoy many things. Rumors spread fast through these corridors, saying things about my childhood, that I have always been serious. They are not wrong. Something inside me has always been missing, as if something at birth was taken and never returned, leaving me hollow.
“Dancing is a waste of time. We could be training right now,” I grumble.
All these people falling over themselves, some due to the mead they drink and others because they are simply clumsy.
The music continues, ringing in my ears. I do not feel the music the way most do. To me, it is just unspoken words begging to be sung.
I keep my post near the open doors, the smell of the flowers wafting in bringing me a rare sense of peace.
Carrington goes off to find a lady to schmooze, floundering like a fish out of the ocean.
I sigh, wishing for nothing more than something exciting to happen. These balls are so boring.
The music speeds up, and I roll my eyes. A thumping beat that feels like a heartbeat.
Suddenly, a pain courses through my body, leaving me breathless.
A strike of lightning I never expected to feel. One that, by all rights and laws, I should not be able to feel.
I look down to see a small woman who has stumbled into me. A head of curly toffee-colored hair halos her face. She looks up at me with the brightest green eyes I have ever seen.
My heart beats faster than it should be allowed to.
Just as quickly as the feeling struck me, it leaves, while she rocks back on her heels.
“Pardon me, sir. The drink must be getting to me.”
She almost hums the sentence. Did she not feel the shock of fate course through us?
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice softer than it usually is.
“I am Briar, and if I am not mistaken, you are my Soulfated.”
Her voice sings into my ears.
“I am a Seer. I should not have a Soulfated. It is forbidden.”
My voice is barely above a whisper.
The Fates tend not to ask for permission.
The thought fills my head — her voice, her beautiful voice — and my chest hurts, as if wishing for more.
How are we supposed to handle this?
I send the thought to her, looking deeply into those green eyes.
“Just dance with me, grumpy,” she says aloud, already grabbing my hand and pulling me to a dance floor I have never set foot on.
We begin to dance. The way she moves enchants me. I almost cannot breathe.
With Briar, it feels like the world bends around her, as if it exists only for her.
She dances to the music as though it is part of her body. Never have I appreciated someone dancing until I saw her.
Soon, the music stops, and we cease dancing. She walks away in a lavender dress that flows behind her.
I will see you later, grumpy, her thought drifted into my mind.
She leaves me breathless.
She leaves me wishing for more.
She leaves me asking why the Fates decided to give me a Soulfated if I am not meant to marry.
What if Fate does not show us the whole plan?