Whispers Beneath the Velvet

The last trembling note of the waltz still lingered in the air, like the softest exhale after one's breath had been held far, far too long. It shimmered faintly, dissolving into the polite applause and murmurs that filled the gilded ballroom, before fading into silence entirely.

Crown Prince Rahegar's hand slid away from mine with that effortless grace he wore like a second skin. His fingers lingered, barely, as though reluctant to let go, his gaze resting on me for a heartbeat longer than custom dictated.

And then—

It was gone.

The orchestra shifted, their bows drawing lighter, quicker melodies now, and the nobles—cloaked in silk and shimmering gems—folded back into their clusters like nothing had happened. A polite smile curved across my lips, as expected. As rehearsed.

But something coiled uneasily in my chest.

A quiet gnawing.