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“That’s cold!” The prince takes a surprised step back as I stare at his side. Since I specifically asked for white wine, my stunt does little more than reveal exactly what I didn’t want to see.

The wine instantly soaks through his shirt making it nearly transparent. He pulls the wet cotton away from his skin, and the Sigil of Serch Bythol is no longer visible, but my heart is already shattered. I lower my eyes as the circle of courtiers and nobles grows silent.

“Forgive me, My Lord.” The tremble in my voice isn’t forced, and I hope they believe my reverence is due to embarrassment.

Pepper’s curse in my ear tells me he saw the same thing I did, and his nails tighten on my shoulder. “We must leave. Now.”

“Princess Eavan,” Prince Tadhg says, but I don’t look up. “It’s only wine.” His soft voice and comforting tone make my eyes sting. “Good thing we prefer the Chardonnay.”

“True enough, My Lord.” I squeeze my eyes closed and gather the courage to look at him. There is a small puddle on the marble floor and a splash of the wine on his polished brown boot. The chartreuse sash concealing his ceremonial rapier is dotted with darker patches, and my breath hitches as my eyes glide over the heavy cotton once more pasted against his leanly muscled side.

The front edge of the sigil is barely visible, and I swallow, forcing my attention to his face. His strange lavender eyes are amused and bright, and his mouth curves upward.

He is so beautiful. I allow myself a moment to impress his features on my memory, but Pepper’s nails clamp down hard enough to break skin.

“She’s here,” he hisses. “Go to the right.”

“Princess? Are you all right?” The prince’s brows furrow, and he lifts a hand as if realizing I am about to flee, but I am already in motion.

I slip into the crowd, and as soon as I am surrounded by bodies, my skin ripples and shifts, taking on the tall, broad form of the guard who lent me his cloak. Pepper disappears under the fold of the heavy garment, and I reach for the hood, glancing over my shoulder toward the prince one last time.

My eldest sister, Caoimhe, approaches Prince Tadhg from the left. Through her posture is relaxed, her intense gaze scans the room. Before her matching eyes land on me and spot our tell-tale, unchanging, chartreuse eyes, I lift the hood and flee the ballroom, vowing to return and take my revenge.

She may have stolen my mate, but she will not have my crown.

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@Karthmin Did I do that right? This was fun. =) Interesting that this was also my first attempt writing in present tense…