He shrugged. “I loved every minute of it. I’ve never seen such joy on your face.”
She dropped her chin and stared down at her tangled fingers, her cheeks blazing again. “Yes, you have, just this morning.” She pivoted away from him, leaving him dumb struck, and stepped through the doors into the crowd.
Chapter Thirteen
Leena’s heart thumped in her chest as she strode aimlessly away from Colin and the balcony. She had to get back to the temple. He was too much of a temptation, becoming too precious to her. Already, she wondered how she would find the strength within herself to let him go.
And it was sinful what she was doing. Using him. Experimenting on him. How embarrassing to learn that she’d been so overwhelmed by the experience he’d given her in the tent that she hadn’t thought to find out how he liked to be touched. She wondered now what that thick hardness he’d pressed against her belly would feel like in her hand. Why had she never thought to research male anatomy in the temple library? Why hadn’t she read about sex?
But she knew the answer to both those questions. She’d never even been tempted to because what a coupling represented to her was a place of pain and suffering. She’d always felt lucky to avoid the trappings of coupledom. Until Colin. Until the strange feelings he ignited in her.
The most shameful part—the part she didn’t want to admit, even to herself—was that there was more to her experimenting than simple lust. If her attraction to Colin was purely physical, it would be far easier to deny herself. No, there were definitely deeper feelings here. Layers of friendship and mutual admiration. He made her laugh. Made her feel totally accepted, just as she was.
Alone among the throng of people gathered for the ball, she smoothed her dress, hoping no one could see the turmoil raging inside her. Surprisingly, her dress showed none of it. On the outside, she was as calm and collected as when she left her room. Small favors.
She was relieved when Quanling Marjory came into view, her austere yellow dress far more appropriate than the one the palace had loaned her. She wondered if the woman kept it for such events.
“Goddess, it is good to see you, Mother,” Leena said, using the term of endearment that scribes used for the head of their order. Although they were not physically related, Marjory was as much a mother to her as the woman who had delivered her into this world.
“Leena, my daughter, how lovely you look,” the older woman said in a low voice.
“I know it’s disgraceful, but I was told my robes were inappropriate.”
“Oh, they are, dear. You really had no choice. But your appearance is quite pleasing for the circumstances and is, in fact, appropriate. Try not to feel out of place. The goddess loves adaptability.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m relieved you think so. I miss the simplicity of temple life.”
“Don’t we all,” Marjory said, but there was a hint of humor in her voice. She followed it up with a sip from a bubbly yellow beverage. Was that wine? The Quanling did drink alcohol during certain ceremonies at the temple, but for some reason, this seemed different. That sip was entirely for pleasure. She’d never seen Marjory do anything entirely for pleasure before.
Leena sighed. Pleasure was exactly why she needed to speak with the woman. “I wonder if I might have a moment with you?”
“Of course, but quickly. People are starting to take their seats. I believe both the food and the big announcement are coming soon.”
Leena didn’t let on that she knew what part of that announcement would be. It wasn’t her news to tell, and disclosing the betrothal now could undermine the event. “I was wondering if you might escort me back to the temple when you return tomorrow. As the leader of the resistance, Colin has much to do. I hate to distract him from his responsibilities.”
“Of course you can travel with me. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re returning so soon. Have the rebels learned all they can from the scroll?”
“All thatIcan help them with. I’d like you to name a replacement for me.”
That earned her a sideways glance. Marjory opened her mouth to respond, but they were interrupted when a servant near the head table rang a loud and persistent bell with a sweeping motion that required the use of his entire body.
“We’ll discuss this later,” Marjory said.
Leena followed her to their assigned table. Soon, the room was flooded with servers bringing out a parade of dishes that Leena had never tasted before. There was roast elderbeast and razorwing pie, a noodle dish she didn’t know the name of, and she was served a glass of the bubbling yellow wine.
She glanced at Marjory, who gave her a reassuring smile. “Enjoy yourself, daughter. You have my permission to indulge fully in the banquet. After all, we serve the goddess, and the high lord is her named ruler of Rogos. Rejecting his banquet would be an affront to her name.”
Leena reached for the glass and took a tentative sip. The liquid was herbal, definitely alcoholic, but crisp and refreshing. The slightly sweet flavor left the taste of apple and citrus in her throat. “Mmm. What is this?”
Marjory grinned. “Dornapple wine. Incredible, isn’t it? The fruit is inedible before fermentation. Most people consider the tree a weed. But for the elf who is willing to invest the time, the rewards are theirs to reap.” She raised her glass, the lines in her cheeks growing deeper with her smile.
Leena had to agree. The drink was delightful, and it helped to relax her as they progressed with the meal.
“Does anyone know what this might be about?” the man seated across from her asked.
“It has to be about the trade routes,” an elderly woman beside her stated. She clutched the oversized, polished jade necklace she wore around her birdlike neck. “Paragon has never gone so far as to cut Rogos off entirely. It’s dastardly. That awful Eleanor has gone too far. Everfield has already fallen. How long until her dragons are at our gates?”
Marjory chewed her food carefully before speaking. “Eleanor will realize soon enough that her actions won’t achieve the desired effect. Rogos prides itself on being self-sufficient. We produce enough within our boundaries to feed and clothe every citizen. I wouldn’t worry.”
