"His Highness, Prince Thorandryll, and Lady Discordia Jones," a booming voice announced the second we reached the ballroom entrance.

I had no choice about the halt to let everyone see us, because Thorandryll stopped to scan the crowd inside. Every pair of eyes in the huge room turned our way. I whispered through my hastily donned smile and clenched teeth, "We can move now."

He ignored me, continuing to look about the huge room. I wondered what it felt like, to throw a party that brought everyone who was anyone running.

I spotted Mr. Whitehaven, my fake smile turning genuine at the stern expression my boss wore. His eyes were faintly glowing, just enough that I knew they were more red than brown at the moment.

"You're in so much trouble with my boss," I whispered.

"I'm hardly at fault for his failure to realize this would be a newsworthy event."

"Keep telling yourself that, buddy." Maybe Whitehaven would strangle the prince for me.

Thorandryll decided to stop playing lord of all he surveyed, and down the steps we went. A surge of people met us at the bottom, all of them eager to greet the host.

I stood there like a b.u.mp on a log, smiling and nodding as he introduced me to people whose names I forgot a few seconds after hearing them. My grip on Thorandryll's arm slowly tightened, due to a growing feeling of suffocation.

Apparently, Thorandryll noticed, or maybe I'd clamped down hard enough to inhibit his circulation, because he began to walk forward. People who'd been greeted fell away, replaced with new faces.

I gave silent thanks to Sal for his advice on improving my mental shield. Without it, the giddy excitement of those around us would've dropped me to the floor in a hysterically laughing heap.

We came face to face with the Rex, Ryan O'Meara. A lovely, statuesque woman with warm, dark brown skin was on his arm, and his sons flanked them. The atmosphere changed, as though people were holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen.

Me, I grinned, happy to see familiar faces, even if Tanner's face wasn't a friendly one. "h.e.l.lo, Mr. O'Meara. Hi, Connor."

"Miss Jones, so very good to see you. My wife, Hadiya."

She extended her fine-boned hand, her golden-brown eyes warm. "At last we meet."

I remembered not to man-shake her hand. "Very pleased. I love your name."

Hadiya smiled. "I quite like yours, as well."

"Thank you."

Connor edged forward, sticking his hand out, so I switched to him. His gentle tug made me lean toward him, and he kissed my cheek.

Thorandryll suddenly remembered his manners, and greeted the Rex, while extending his hand. They shook, and the elf executed a sort of half bow over Hadiya's hand as he pretended to kiss her fingers.

He didn't make contact, but we were the only ones close enough to know. The appearance was enough, one of Thorandyll's "useful illusions" he seemed so fond of.

The atmosphere lightened, and I almost looked around to see if his gesture had lit fire to gossiping. But the lions were taking their leave, and my clan members were right behind them.

Terra looked positively radiant in her golden gown, a bright spark of life next Dane's somber black tie. At only eighteen, she was handling the situation like a pro, her expression serene as she extended her hand to Thorandryll. "Your Highness."

"Welcome, your Majesty." He repeated his faux hand kiss-dude really was all about the illusions-while I winked at Dane before looking at Logan.

My future dating partner smiled, and I shivered. He looked fabulously dashing in black tie. Caught up in staring at him, it took me a full two seconds to realize Moira wasn't on his arm.

Instead, Danielle stood beside him, looking sophisticated and dangerous in a sleek black dress. She offered a toothy smile framed with blood red lips.

Surprised, I 'pathed Logan. Where's Moira?

She decided the crowd would be too much, he sent back. Danielle was the only other one who had a fancy dress.

I nearly missed my cue as Terra turned to me, but managed to catch her hand, and we traded air kisses to keep from leaving lip prints on each other's cheeks. The contact informed me that her a.s.sured mask was also all about appearances.

She was vibrating with excitement. I squeezed her hand before letting go. With a rustle of gauze and silk, Terra moved to the side, allowing Logan and Danielle to step forward. "You've met my Protector."

"Yes," Thorandryll replied. His arm b.u.mped mine as he prepared to shake hands with Logan.

Logan ignored him, reaching forward for my hand, and neatly executed a bow before pressing his warm lips to my knuckles.

He smiled while straightening, catching Thorandryll off guard by immediately offering to shake, and a casual, "Thanks for the invitation."

"You're quite welcome," Thorandryll coolly replied as they finished their handshake. He seemed ready to walk off, but I stuck my hand out to Danielle.

"Love your dress, it really suits you."

Surprise slackened her face, but she quickly rallied. "Thank you. Yours is lovely as well."

"Thanks." We skipped the air kisses, which was okay by me.

Then Thorandryll excused us, sweeping me across the floor. A servant offered a tray of gla.s.ses, from which the prince selected two. Our grand entrance was over. I celebrated surviving it with a sip of champagne, its bubbles tickling my tongue.

Mr. Whitehaven appeared beside me, silent and tall. He'd chosen white tie, his long hair nearly invisible against the white tux jacket.

Thorandryll turned when I did, but stayed behind me. "Lord Whitehaven. Such an honor to have you here."

His redly glowing eyes matched the low growl of his reply. "It's proving to be an evening of surprises."

"Someone's in trouble," I softly sang before having another sip. The champagne was fantastic, its bubbles revealing different fruit flavors as they burst. This one strawberry, that one peach. One left a hint of blackberry.

My boss glanced down at me, and I grinned back, happy to know he was ready to jump down Thorandryll's throat. Mr. Whitehaven's stern expression melted into a fond smile. He bent enough to bestow a grandfatherly kiss on my forehead. "You look lovely, Discordia."

"You look smashing, boss." Or ready to start smashing, as his smile disappeared when he refocused on Thorandryll.

"We have something to discuss, sir. My office, tomorrow at ten."

"O-of course, my lord."

"Ooh, can I come too?" I really wanted to be there when the boss ripped Prince Snooty Pants a new one.

"Certainly." Mr. Whitehaven patted my shoulder and left, but not without narrowing his eyes at Thorandryll.

I giggled. "You messed up good."

"He does appear displeased."

"You think?" The champagne was going straight to my head, giving our surroundings a mellow glow. "Wow, really sw.a.n.ky."

The ballroom looked larger, and so did the crowd. I wasn't the only woman present who'd chosen simple over glittering when it came to a gown, which made me feel better. Of course, everyone else's "simple" probably cost four times what my ensemble had, but I decided it wasn't worth worrying about.

The floor was black and glossy, the walls white, and golden-edged niches displayed paintings or statues. Six white columns held the ceiling high above our heads. I looked up to find a mural decorating the ceiling, of elves, their beautiful white horses, and black and tan hounds rushing through a forest.

Whatever the painted figures were after wasn't visible, to my relief.

"You like it?" Thorandryll placed his hand on my back, a little too close to my rear for comfort. "It could be yours."

My laugh turned heads. "Seriously? Didn't we already agree that wasn't happening? Like, ever?"

"You made a statement to that effect. I hardly agreed," he said, his breath warm on my ear. "You should reconsider. Such a match would be quite advantageous for us both."

"Yeah, right. Hey." He'd taken my gla.s.s of champagne. "I wasn't done with that."

"We're expected to begin the dancing. I do hope you can waltz."

c.r.a.p, looked like more "center of attention" was in my immediate future.

TWELVE.

By just after nine, my feet hurt and I'd lost all hope of remembering a single name that didn't belong to anyone I already knew. I was also slightly drunk from sipping champagne between turns around the floor.

Fortunately, a servant announced it was time for dinner, and the exodus from ballroom to a grand dining hall took less time than I'd have thought, with so many people.

Thorandryll's theatrics weren't limited to the ballroom. Our table, a long rectangle topped in dark green, bountifully laden with vases of flowers and gorgeous place settings, dominated the end of the hall.

All the other tables were round, and s.p.a.ced comfortably apart to fill the rest of the cavernous s.p.a.ce. The floor was green marble with glittery streaks of gold, the walls golden panels decorated with flowering vines.

No columns here. They would've blocked the view of the head table. Thorandryll seated me on his left, and I nodded at Queen Maeve, who sat to the right of his chair.

Alleryn slipped into place on my left. "Enjoying yourself?"

"You betcha. I've thought of a dozen ways to murder your prince since we arrived." I slipped my shoes off, having noted the tablecloth reached the floor in front. The cool marble felt fantastic against my poor feet. Heels weren't my usual choice for footwear.

Alleryn chuckled. "He has been flaunting you."

"'S alright, because I'm sure the boss is going to flaunt him about the head tomorrow." I leaned to look past him. "Where's Kate?"

"Seated with the rest of your friends from work."

He used his chin to indicate where I should look. Their table was halfway across the dining hall, not quite center. I checked the tables around them, to find the lions and tigers sharing one, and at another, a quad of people I vaguely remembered having been introduced to as cougars sat with Patrick, Nick, and their parents.

How had I missed running into them? I turned to Alleryn when Nick's head rose and began to turn in my direction. "What are they doing here?"

"My prince extended invitations to all the city's leaders." He gave a slight shrug. "We didn't actually think they'd all accept."

"Is he looking at me?"

"Nick? Yes."

"Great."

Thorandryll touched my forearm, and I turned to find him leaning toward me. "I'll have him ejected if his presence offends you."

"No, don't do that. Everything's cool." I could deal, to avoid Nick being embarra.s.sed, and his father causing a scene.

"As you wish." Thorandryll stood, collecting a small golden bell, and rang it twice. Conversations stopped, leaving the hall entirely silent. "Allow me to extend my appreciation to you all for attending tonight."

I tuned out as he gave his speech, peppering it with words like "grand" and "momentous". My stomach quietly growled to inform me it wanted food, but I couldn't do anything to fulfill its request.

No big surprise that Thorandryll loved the sound of his own voice, and managed to speak for a good ten minutes before sitting down to overly enthusiastic applause.

I poked Alleryn in the ankle with my toes. "What time is it?"

"Nine-twenty-three."

"Argh."

He chuckled. "We'll eat, and return to the ballroom by eleven-thirty. Bit more dancing, drinking, and mingling before a midnight toast."

"Can I go home after that?"

"Oh, you poor dear. People won't begin to take their leave until two. No one will want to be the first, or the last, to leave."

I sighed. "I volunteer to shoulder the burden of being the first to go."

An appetizer had appeared, some sort of beautifully presented fowl. "Ooh, food."

Alleryn laughed, but I didn't care. I picked up the proper fork an instant after Thorandryll did, and tried to forget some people were slyly watching us.

"I need this recipe," I said after my first taste of the squab.

"You cook?" The question came from Maeve.

"Yes, ma'am. It's my hobby."

"Interesting." Her tone indicated cooking was beneath her, but she was Queen of the Unseelie. Probably didn't even know how to boil water. At least not on a stove.

"I'll see that you receive the recipe," Thorandryll said.