Cara was not left alone on the dance floor for long. She was still staring at the spot where Eamon had vanished when a hand touched her elbow. She tore her eyes away from the crowd and pressed a smile in place as she turned.
“Your Highness, may I have this next dance?” Lord Galway didn’t wait for a response before sweeping her into his arms and away with the music. Unlike Eamon, Lord Galway was a marvelous dancer; he guided Cara through the steps as if it were habit. It most likely was.
“Who is that man you were dancing with?” Lord Galway asked. “He’s unfamiliar to me.” He didn’t pause for her to answer, instead giving her a quizzical smile that probably made most women swoon. “I will say, I was quite surprised when you chose someone else for the first dance. It’s unusual to dance with someone besides your intended.”
Cara’s smile turned brittle. “Until my announcement, I have no intended, Lord Galway.”
“But of course. Although that’s only a formality at this point, is it not? We’ve discussed at length the many benefits of joining our houses. Especially on your side.”
“I’m sure becoming king would benefit you little,” Cara said drily.
Her tone was lost on Lord Galway. He grinned, all charm. “Of course it benefits me, Princess. But I suspect the land that would end up in the crown’s hands is a far greater treasure.”
“It would be a boon to our people.” She couldn’t deny that. It was the main reason that—of all the loveless options—she’d reluctantly settled on Lord Galway.
Even if he did make her feel like their potential marriage was nothing more than a cold business transaction. Would it kill the man to romance her even a little?
Or at least have a conversation where he actually listened to her instead of just talking endlessly?
She cast a surreptitious glance at the crowd around them. Where had Eamon gone?
Lord Galway twirled her under an arm and brought her out and back in with a flourish. “Will you be making the announcement soon?”
She avoided his gaze. “I’d like to enjoy the dancing for a while longer before making any announcements.”
“That suits me fine. We can dance as long as you want.” He pulled her in closer.
“I meant with some of the other lords. It would be indecorous to dance with only one man all evening.”
His mouth quirked up on one side. “You haven’t. You’ve danced with two.”
“Or with only two men,” she corrected.
“I’ll stay nearby in case you change your mind.”
The rest of the dance passed in a stiff silence. When the song ended, Cara curtsied. “Thank you, Lord Galway.”
“My pleasure, Your Highness.”
She retreated to the throne. Father, still seated, waved away the servant offering him a refill. “Is everything all right, little stormlark?”
“Fine, Papa.”
“Lord Galway is an excellent dancer.”
“He is.”
Father gestured to the empty throne beside him. “Have a seat.”
“That wouldn’t be appropriate—”
“It will be yours soon enough. Don’t get strung on minutiae now.”
Cara eased herself into her mother’s seat. Loss ached through her. She ran her hands over the arms. The cold silver shone. The servants must still keep it polished. Mother probably would have found that amusing.
“What’s wrong, Cara?”
Cara shifted on the throne. “Why is it so hard to choose?”
The king tilted his head. “To choose... your husband?”
She nodded. “I have to choose someone good for the country. It isn’t just about what I want. But that makes the decision unimaginably more difficult.”
“It shouldn’t.”
“You’re only saying that because you were blessed to fall in love with someone as wise and kind as Mother.”
The king smiled softly. “I did. But the same stands for you. You have your mother’s kindness... and my good sense.” He winked at her. “If there is someone you love, it may be that you love them for the very qualities that would make a good king.”
“Even if they might not seem like the obvious choice?”
“The things that make a good king are not always the most visible qualities. Physical prowess and wealth are not what Makaria needs, little stormlark. Valor, loyalty, and discernment are. You know this.”
Cara let out a sigh. The tangle in her chest softened, loosened its stranglehold on her heart. “I do.”
Father reached across the space and clasped her hand. “So choose the man who embodies those. Who loves and respects you. Consider it an order from your king.”
Cara laughed. She pressed a kiss to the back of Father’s wrinkled hand. “Yes, Your Majesty.”