A Flirt?

'A flirt? She thinks I have been flirting all evening? No wonder she chose me last for a dance! She was trying to humble me...' Ethyn scoffed as he realized what happened.

His efforts at being chivalrous had been grossly misconstrued!

The young man weaved through the crowd and followed after the fleeing princess. Catching up to her, Ethyn whispered in her ear just like she had done only a moment before. "Excuse me, Your Highness, but if I am a flirt, what does that make you?"

It was the wrong move yet again, and Ethyn knew it by the way Rose turned on her heels without disguising her glare.

His stomach churned.

"Choose your next words carefully, Sir Ethyn." Her blue eyes reflected the fire of the overhead lights, giving the young knight a sense of fear and wonder.

The redhead gulped, but his pride would not let him back down. "I am not a flirt any more than you. We have had the same number of dance partners, I think. You might have had more actually."

Rose narrowed her gaze. Her voice was barely audible but was full of fight. "Now listen here..."

Out of the corner of her eye, the blonde caught a glimpse of Sir Nuall making his way toward them both. His intentions were clear.

"...dance with me." Rose ordered Ethyn hastily. She wrapped her arms around the green-eyed man.

"Excuse me? I thought..." Ethyn was too stunned by her sudden change. Only her tugging him along caused his feet to begin to move rhythmically.

They glided along away from a disappointed Nuall and toward the other end of the room.

It was only when the princess was secure that they would not be interrupted that Rose continued her sentence.

"Do not get me wrong, I do love to dance, but I have no choice in the way of who I dance with. A princess must be kind and cordial to everyone, even to you. So I am merely doing my duty, never flirting."

Ethyn pulled his lips to one side. "Quite an admission, princess. Especially to someone you think is a 'dirty, flattering thief'. Those were the words, am I right?"

Rose blushed slightly. "I guess you heard that after all. I do tend to speak my mind a little too freely."

"A problem we share, if you haven't noticed. Though I find it odd that you think I have a choice in who I dance with. I have not, in fact, selected a single lady tonight as a dance partner. Each and every one has been offered to me by some well meaning father or even the young lady herself, present company included." Ethyn's dashing smile was met with slightly less derision than it had been before.

"So you don't find all of those ladies utterly enchanting?" Rose's movements seemed more relaxed as she swayed in time to the music.

"I was doing my duty the same as you. Though I would be lying if I said this is far more difficult than just stabbing my enemy with a sword." Ethyn could feel the princess chuckle lightly.

"I can let you get back to slaying dragons, if you like." Rose pretended to pull away.

Sensing the change in mood, the young man lifted his arm to twirl her and pretended to look around. "Alas, I can see no dragons, so I must finish this dance. Duty demands it."

Returning to his arms, Rose sighed. "And we both must answer duty's call."

Was he imagining it or was the princess actually smiling at him genuinely? He could almost feel the ice around her beginning to melt.

"If you really want to leave, you certainly may," Ethyn offered. "You owe me no duty."

Rose looked over the man's shoulder toward the king. Ethyn already knew he was watching them intently, but there was nothing he could do.

"I could do something terrible if it will make leaving easier…" The green eyed man offered.

"You've done enough terrible things. I could pick any of them and it would be grounds for me to slap you and walk away if I chose." Rose fluttered her eyelashes at the man.

"And yet you remain…" Raising one eyebrow, the knight left his question unasked.

"Well as you will never be able to claim my hand in marriage, that makes you a perfect dance partner to keep the vultures away."

The Princess's words stung, but Ethyn pretended not to notice the slight. "It's just as well…"

Rose's smile wavered. It was clearly not the answer she was anticipating. "Why is it just as well?"

"Because unlike the other men in the room, I have no desire to claim your hand…" Ethyn paused and gave a mischievous grin.

'…I am far more likely to want to claim your heart. Wait, she already thinks I am a shameless flirt! She will never believe that I mean it. Do I mean it? I don't even know. Agh! Why did I speak at all?!'

His internal battle lasted only a second before the princess's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"What is wrong with my hand?" Rose wanted to know. Ethyn felt the delicate fingers clasping his suddenly loosen.

The knot forming in the man's stomach caused him to wince.

"Nothing is wrong with your hand!" The man's eyes opened wide. "It's the most lovely thing I have ever held."

"But you don't want to claim it?" The woman raised one eyebrow in challenge.

"What kind of man would I be to chase after such a prize?" Ethyn struggled to maintain his focus on dancing and the conversation. As a result, both were suffering.

"And what prize is that?" The edge in Rose's voice was razor sharp, yet Ethyn was too distracted to heed the warning.

"The throne, of course," the young man answered.

He watched as the countenance of his dance partner fell. Puffing her cheeks, Rose sighed.

"I am glad to know what you think of me, Sir Ethyn. It's always nice to be considered a mere stepping stone to power."

Ethyn flushed. "What? I did not mean…"

The princess pulled away and curtsied. The song—the second song they had danced together—ended with her movement.

"This has been an enlightening conversation. I appreciate your candor, Sir Ethyn. Now, if you will excuse me."

Ethyn did not have a chance to bow or even bid farewell before the princess hurried away. Lady Caitlyn joined her from the wall and, taking one look at Rose's face, whisked her away to the washroom.

'I am NOT following her there!' The green-eyed man wasn't sure what to do next. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts, but the ladies of the ball were already trying to capture his attention.

Feeling dizzy and confused, Ethyn was in no mood to dance anymore. His stomach was in knots. Keeping his head down, the knight pressed through the dancers until someone called his name.

"Sir Samberg!"

Ethyn was relieved that the voice was not a woman, but his sponsor. He slowed for the older knight to approach and clap him on the shoulder.

Cyneheard's voice was filled with mirth.

"You managed two dances, Sir Ethyn! If I were not old and happily married, I would be envious of your skill."

"There is no reason to be envious of me." Ethyn clenched his stomach. The pain was getting worse.

Cyneheard noticed the young man's discomfort. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," Ethyn assured him. "I just have a stitch in my side from too much dancing."

The older man touched the side of his nose. "Too much fun will do that to you. Maybe you should get some fresh air. The palace gardens are quite lovely."

'I want to be anywhere but here.' "Which way to the gardens?" Ethyn stood straight as he followed his sponsor's finger.

"Just out the doors there."

"Thank you."

Cyneheard smiled as the boy turned to leave. "Enjoy your time. Don't hurry back."

"Don't worry, I won't." Ethyn quickened his pace, making a beeline for the exit.

There was no denying it anymore.

Ethyn was going to be sick.