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He smiled. “Then we’ll waltz.” He extended a hand to help me down, and when I stood before him, almost chest to chest, I froze. The scent of the sea clung to him. Salt spray coated his armor, his skin, and it wove itself straight into my nostrils. An intoxicating heat rolled through my body, like a wave ravenously lapping the shore.
“I’m not in my fancy clothes,” he said, apologetically. “Would you like me to change?”
My stomach swooped. “No.”
I set my stinging hand in the crook of his arm, and then he began to amble us around the outskirts of the room, watching the revelry with a smirk on his face. I’d known of the captain for years, though we’d rarely spoken. It had been only a fortnight since I’d been told of our engagement, but my tight muscles unspooled at his proximity. The knot that Agatha’s disapproval had left in my gut loosened, fluttered.
“Shall I guess how many pounds your dress weighs?” he asked.
I gave him a full smile.
He stopped us. “Again.”
“Again, what?”
“Smile like that again.”
Our gazes locked and an ache began in me. I wondered what his touch might feel like. I wondered if his skin tasted like salt. “You’re incorrigible tonight.”
He gave me a wicked look. “Every night.” His warm fingers wrapped around my hand, and I flinched. “What’s wrong?”
“Just a cut.”
He took it and turned it this way and that, inspecting the weeping wound on my middle finger. His brow knit. “How did this happen?”
“It’s nothing. His Majesty didn’t realize…” Evander knelt and stuck his hands beneath the hem of my skirt, where he fumbled with the petticoats. I glanced around the room with wide eyes. “Gods, stand up—”
“Wait.” He looked up at me with a crooked smile on his lips. A quick jerk, fabric ripped. He rose with a strip of white linen pinched between his fingers. “Give me your hand.” Gently, he wound the fabric around the cut. “Can you keep a secret?” he said, his graveled voice filling only the small space between us.
Startled by his question, I looked up into his desperate gaze. I felt as if I were made of secrets. “Yes, I can.”
“If he were not my king…” Evander tucked in the loose end of the linen, then kept my hand in his. “I’d run him through for hurting you.”
The sound of treachery spilling from the captain’s mouth like a profession of love made me still. It thrilled me. It terrified me. “That’s very chivalrous of you.”
Evander took a step closer and the briny scent of him engulfed me. It beat through me, making my chest fill with thrumming heat. The look he gave me was expectant, earnest.
A protector, even if it was only in spirit, was not something I’d hoped to find in the captain. I’d only let myself wish for a thread of kindness, for him to be preoccupied enough with his job to let me continue with my quiet life still intact. I rose up onto my toes and set a quick kiss to his cheek. “Your secret is safe with me.”