Chapter Twenty One - A Dance With A Promise
LIORA
The soft, echoing sound of piano keys drifted through the marble corridor, tender and melancholic, like a memory whispered in silence.
I followed the sound, my bare footsteps muffled against the plush rug as I approached the open doors of the instrumental chamber—a quiet room bathed in golden candlelight and the glow of twilight spilling through the high arched windows.
There, seated at a grand black piano, was Kieran.
His broad back was straight, his light brown hair slightly messy, catching the light like woven sunlight.
The armor was gone, replaced with a dark tunic and trousers, loose and unassuming, yet the quiet intensity that clung to him remained. His long fingers moved fluidly over the keys, coaxing a slow, haunting melody from the instrument—a tune that spoke of sorrow, solitude, and something deeply buried.
He didn’t notice me at first.
I stood in the large doorway, spellbound by the image before me—the fierce prince softened in a moment of vulnerable artistry. Something stirred in my chest.
Something unspoken.
When the last note lingered in the air, I stepped inside.
“I didn’t know you played,” I said softly.
Kieran turned his head slowly, his golden eyes meeting mine, unreadable at first—then faintly surprised.
“I haven’t touched it in years,” he murmured. “It belonged to the Queen. I used to watch her play.”
"Queen? I thought maybe your mother." He didn't reply; maybe he's angry already. "I'm sorry." No response.
I stepped closer. “It’s beautiful.”
He gave a faint nod, his gaze resting on my face longer than necessary. “What brings you here?”
“I was... wandering,” I said honestly, folding my arms across my chest. “Trying to find peace, maybe.”
He gestured to the bench beside him. “You can sit. I don’t bite.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a dangerous thing for a werewolf to say.” He gazed at me, then I looked down. "Sorry."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips—brief, fleeting. But it was there.
I took the seat beside him, the warmth of his body radiating through the space between us. My eyes trailed the length of his hand as it hovered above the keys.
“There’s going to be a ball,” I said after a moment, my voice tinged with uncertainty.
“I heard,” he said. “My brothers are excited. Especially Darius. He never passes on an opportunity to flirt.”
I smiled faintly. “Have you attended one before?”
“A long time ago,” he replied. “I was just a child. I remember the music. The dancing. The way the lights looked like stars.”
“Sounds magical.”
He turned to me again, studying my expression.
“And you?” he asked. “Have you ever danced at a ball?”
I shook my head. “Never. I’ve never even worn a proper gown until I came here.”
There was a pause. Then, without warning, Kieran rose and held out his hand to me.
“Then let me teach you.”
I blinked. “Now?”
“There’s no music,” I pointed out.
He moved to the corner and lifted a small enchanted crystal orb from a shelf. With a single command in a forgotten tongue, soft orchestral music began to drift through the chamber, faint but rich.
"How'd you do that?" I asked, looking closely at it. "It's for my grandmother; she was a witch. Never try this alone," his voice was cool and smooth. I thought he was going to say the Queen's mother.
He returned to me and extended his hand again. “Now, there’s music.”
I hesitated, my heart fluttering as I looked into his eyes. Then slowly, I placed my hand in his.
His palm was calloused and warm, his grip gentle but sure. He led me to the center of the room and placed one hand at my waist, the other still holding my hand.
I rested my free hand awkwardly on his shoulder.
Our steps were awkward at first—I stepped on his foot, blushing furiously; he smiled gently. Which really suits him.
“You’re stiff,” he teased, his voice lower now, almost fond.
“I’ve never done this before,” she whispered.
“Relax,” he murmured, guiding me. “Let the rhythm carry you. Trust me. And just follow my lead.”
I exhaled, letting my weight settle into the movement. The music in my head came from memory now—his earlier melody. He twirled me gently, catching me as I stumbled. Our eyes met. A smile touched his lips—genuine, rare.
“You’re not so bad,” he said.
“And you’re not as cold as you pretend to be.”
“I never thought I’d enjoy this,” I admitted softly, eyes on his chest to avoid the intensity of his gaze.
Silence stretched between us.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you that night,” he said quietly. “At the wedding.”
My throat tightened. “Then why did you?”
His grip didn’t loosen. “Because I was afraid. Of you. Of what you are to me.”
I didn’t respond. My gaze dropped to our hands—my small fingers curled against his.
“I should be afraid of you,” I said finally.
“But you’re not.”
I lifted my gaze. “No.”
We danced until the music faded, until the air between us buzzed with unsaid things.
Kieran slowly let me go, and for a moment, we simply stood there, breathing each other in.
My fingers lingered where they had rested against his chest, my gaze uncertain, searching his eyes as if trying to grasp something I wasn’t sure was truly there.
Then, quietly—almost hesitantly—I asked.
“Will you promise me something?”
He tilted his head slightly, a frown ghosting his lips. “What is it?”
“That you’ll be there,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “At the ball.”
He blinked, taken aback by the simplicity of my request. Of all the things I could’ve asked from him—an answer, a confession, a truth—this was what I chose. But somehow, it felt heavier than any vow.
“You don’t trust that I’ll come?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, looking away. “You… disappear when it matters. Like the wedding, the night. The dinners. The way you always pull away when I try to reach you.” My voice cracked slightly. “I just don’t want to stand alone in a room full of strangers again, pretending I don’t feel it.”
He stared at me for a long time. The tension in his jaw slowly softened. Then he reached out, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear, letting his fingers linger at my cheek.
“You won’t be alone,” he said, his voice low and solemn. “I’ll be there, Liora. I promise.”
My eyes widened slightly, my breath catching at the way he said my name—not like a curse or an accusation, but like something fragile he hadn’t meant to touch.
I nodded once, biting my lip to contain the emotion that welled in my chest.
“Good,” I whispered. “Then I’ll save the first dance for you.”
Kieran offered the faintest of smiles, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes—but it was real, and it was enough.
As he turned toward the piano again, I stood a moment longer in the warm candlelight, my heart both lighter and heavier than it had been when I entered. Because now, I had a promise.
And I hoped with everything in me that he would keep it.