Anne watched him for a moment longer, his dark eyes studying her like a puzzle he had not yet decided to solve.
A slow smile spread across her lips.
"He cannot control me," she said lightly.
Before he could answer, she rose from his lap in one smooth motion. As she stood, she stretched slightly, the long slit of her gown falling open just enough to reveal a flash of pale thigh, deliberate, unapologetic. A few nearby nobles immediately looked away, while others stared with poorly hidden curiosity.
Anne noticed. Of course she did.
She turned back to Isis, that same daring grin playing on her lips.
"Tell me something, my king," she said, glancing toward the dancers gliding across the marble floor. "Do you always sit on your throne while your court dances?"
Isis's gaze followed her briefly to the dancers before returning to her. His expression remained calm, but there was a faint spark of amusement in his eyes.
Anne tilted her head, studying him.
"Or perhaps," she added innocently, "the king of Hivites does not dance?"
A small ripple of whispers passed through the nobles close enough to hear.
The challenge hung in the air between them.
Isis's fingers tapped once against the arm of his throne before he slowly rose to his feet. The movement was unhurried, controlled, the room seeming to still for a moment as the king stood.
His eyes locked onto hers.
"If I dance," he said quietly, "it will not be because you commanded it."
Anne's grin widened as she placed her hand in his.
"Of course not," she replied sweetly. "Kings never do."
Her smile bright with quiet triumph.
For a moment Isis simply looked at their joined hands, then back at her, as if weighing whether she deserved the honor she had so boldly claimed.
At last he stepped down from the dais.
The murmurs in the hall softened as the king moved toward the dance floor. Nobles parted instinctively, lowering their heads slightly as he passed. The music slowed, the lutes and viols adjusting their rhythm as the royal pair approached.
Isis turned to face her.
His hand moved to rest lightly at her waist, proper and measured, the way noble courts had done for centuries. His other hand lifted hers with practiced grace.
"You test your fortune tonight," he said quietly.
Anne lifted her chin, amused.
"Only because you seem difficult to impress, my king."
The musicians struck a fuller note.
Isis began the dance.
His steps were precise, elegant, almost ceremonial, the kind taught in ancient courts long before many of the nobles in the room were born. He guided her smoothly across the marble floor, his movements controlled and effortless.
Anne followed, though not without mischief. Her steps were lighter, a little freer than tradition demanded, her skirt swirling as she turned beneath his guiding hand.
Whispers rippled through the hall.
The king of Hivites rarely danced.
Isis noticed the whispers but ignored them, his gaze remaining fixed on Anne.
"You provoke kings," he said calmly as they turned again.
Anne laughed softly.
"Only the interesting ones."
He studied her for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly.
"You are not what you pretend to be."
"Neither are you," she replied lightly.
The dance carried them across the hall, the glow of candles reflecting on polished stone, nobles watching with careful interest. Some saw only a bold woman entertaining the king.
Others sensed something else entirely.
A test.
A game.
And perhaps the beginning of something dangerous.
The music swelled softly through the great hall as Isis guided Anne across the polished marble floor. His movements were precise, almost effortless, like someone who had performed this same dance centuries before many of the nobles present had even been born.
Anne followed his lead, her gown swirling gently with every turn.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Isis finally broke the silence.
"You move well," he said calmly. "Too well for someone who claims nothing of court."
Anne smiled faintly.
"Is that praise, my king, or suspicion?"
Their steps slowed briefly as the dance turned.
Isis watched her closely now.
"In my court," he said quietly, "strangers do not appear without purpose."
He lifted her hand and guided her into another turn.
"Yet you walked through my doors, ignored my rules, and seated yourself upon my throne."
Anne laughed softly, though her eyes were sharp.
"Your throne looked comfortable."
A faint murmur passed among the watching nobles as the pair moved gracefully across the floor.
Isis leaned slightly closer.
"Tell me something," he said.
His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it.
"Did you come here for amusement…"
He spun her gently back toward him.
"…or for something else entirely?"
Anne held his gaze, unflinching.
"Perhaps," she said lightly, "I simply wished to see if the king of Hivites was as terrifying as the stories claim."
Isis' eyes darkened slightly with amusement.
"And?"
Anne's lips curved.
"I am still deciding."
For the first time that night, the faintest hint of a smile touched the ancient king's lips.
But his eyes never softened.
He was still testing her.
***
Queen Dalia POV:
Snow fell slowly over the silent towers of Hittities.
The night was deep and cold, the sky a dark stretch of endless shadow as flakes of frost drifted down like pale ash.
High above the sleeping city, Queen Dalia stood at the tall window of her private chamber. The wind brushed lightly against the stone walls, carrying the distant howl of winter through the palace halls.
She watched the snow with quiet amusement.
Far away, across the frozen lands, her brother's grand ball was surely in full swing.
Candles lit.
Music playing.
Nobles laughing.
And all the while, the kingdom of Hivites stood alone… stripped of the allies she had carefully taken from them.
A slow smile curved across Dalia's lips.
"Such a beautiful night," she murmured.
Behind her, a servant waited silently, head bowed.
Dalia finally turned from the window, the candlelight catching the sharp elegance of her face.
Her dark gown trailed softly across the marble floor as she walked.
"It seems my dear brother is entertaining his court tonight," she continued lightly.
The servant did not speak.
Dalia's smile deepened, colder now.
"How unfortunate," she said, almost thoughtfully, "that he does not yet realize how lonely his kingdom has become."
She paused beside the door.
Then she glanced back once more at the snow-filled night.
"Come," she said softly.
Her eyes glinted with quiet mischief.
"Let us go pay an old friend a visit."
The servant straightened immediately.
Outside, the snow continued to fall.