#marcosjvan

  –– Even her little nook in the castle couldn’t take her mind away from her worries. Nor could dancing (she did so in private, to the music she played in her head) or playing any one of her instruments. She played chess by herself, hoping that the brainpower required to beat her herself would distract her, even for a couple of minutes. But nothing seemed to work. Valentin had left suddenly. He didn’t tell her, probably because he didn’t want her chasing after him into the battlefield, but he didn’t have to. While they were children, she always chose him as her dance partner. Now as adults, she had to pry a promise for a dance out of him. But his absence from the ball gave away his absence at court altogether. Though he wasn’t one for dancing, he was the more sociable (and more charming) of the two Stanev children. 

      The entire evening Eden’s eyes had been scanning the crowd, measuring the flamboyant patrons up. Who lingered too close to the Princess in Red, who was on their sixth glass of wine, who scowled at their fellow party goers, whose eyes kept darting to the door. You see, people said a lot in their simple boy language. Even so much as what direction they faced spoke volumes. This was what she had been trained for, and this was why she was a personal guard to royalty.

      But she could only gaze upon them for so long before she deemed things safe. This was her night, too, and she planned to enjoy it. Two hours total was dedicated to monitoring, not a whole lot in the grand scheme of things. Now was her fun.

      In her surveillance, she’d been able to pick Marcos out in the crowd. It was the little things he had done, the stolen glances at one woman in sky blue with a white lace mask. The way he held his drink, knuckles occasionally turning white with grip. Perhaps the two of them spent too much time together.