His words took me aback. The act of inviting those who I found comfort in was surprisingly thoughtful. Especially for someone who also believed finding favor and friendships with others was a threat. This must have been some sort of tactical move. Somehow this helped Clause get closer to his goals, but how?
“How is your foot?” I asked Grom, needing something else to focus on.
He groaned. “You need to quit fussing over it. It has healed already, thanks to your care. Though I am afraid that the memory of that nasty foot being in your hands has permanently burned into my mind, leaving scars that even you cannot heal.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, and I slowly felt myself relaxing. “It’s really alright. I wanted to help.”
“You did.” He nodded.
The music shifted, a new happy beat moving around us. Something about the melody reminded me of home. And suddenly I felt even more at ease.
“Dance with me.” I turned to Timothy, who nearly dropped the tray he held.
“Wh– What?” He shook his head. “Surely there is someone you would prefer over–“
Gorm’s dramatic gasp cut the boy off. “You refuse a dance with the Bavadrin Leader Superior?” His eyes grew large, as if he could not believe what he was hearing, and it was an effort for me to stifle a laugh.
Timothy turned to him, eyes rounded like moons with alarm. “No! Of course not, it’s just… I am carrying this tray and–”
Gorm took the tray out of his hands. “I will take it to the kitchen, no problem.”
Timothy’s enormous, panicked stare turned to me. “I– I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I laughed, holding my hand out for him to take. “Trust me, you won’t."
He hesitated before ultimately accepting it.
Gorm winked once more before disappearing into the crowd, carrying the tray away.
Timothy timidly led me to the dancefloor. He lightly touched me, one hand on my hip the other holding mine. He was nearly trembling as he slowly began shifting me across the dancefloor.
I pulled on a cord within, the one tied to my conjuring. My chest warmed before I sent the sensation down to my feet. Athin layer of mist coated the floor, too light for anyone to slip or notice, but enough for me to use.
“Seriously, you are fine,” I whispered, and his gaze dropped to the ground. Monitoring his feet to ensure he did not step on mine. “Don’t worry, you won’t step on me.” A bit more of the mist took to the sole of his shoes. This was winding up to be a wonderful practice for me.
“I wouldn’t be so certain,” he muttered.
I leaned towards him, voice dropping. “I am using my conjuring to monitor your movement and where your feet are going. Trust me, you won’t step on me.” And if he did, then that meant I needed to practice a lot more.
Timothy visibly relaxed then, not completely, but it was an improvement.
My gaze drifted to someone watching us from the sidelines. The man who had asked me to dance, and I refused, stared at us, face red, eyes filled with anger and hatred. I made an enemy. It was something I should have avoided.
“How’s your night been?” I asked Timothy, trying to take his mind off what he was doing.
His gaze darted around the room before settling on me. “It’s been pretty great, actually. We got to eat some of the leftover food, and it has been the best thing I have ever tasted in my life. The palace servants really have it good.” He had such enthusiasm, despite the difficulty life dealt him.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying your work.”
“We have you to thank for that.”
“This has nothing to do with me.”
Large, bright eyes sparkled as he viewed me. “Without you, we would still be out there, and Gorm might be without a foot.”
The song ended too soon, and our movements stilled before the next one took the room.
“Thank you for the dance.” I released him at the same time that I released my control of the mist, letting it fade away into nothing.
