I moved outside the circle again with the other women, the men now spinning in the middle. I watched as they twirled and twirled, their heads swiveling on their necks, jerking to get a better sight of … me? What in the Guardians’ names was going on?
The music slowed as a stout redhead hip-checked the man beside him and snatched me up, pulling me to his front, his whole body plastered against mine.
“Y-y-you look marvelous this evening, Elowyn,” he stammered informally between gasps, sweat beading on the scraggly red hairs above his upper lip.
“Do I know you?” I questioned.
“Of course, I am your cousin, Sir Flad.” Mycousinground his hips and other parts of himself distastefully deeper into me. I tried to wedge my hands between us, but struggled against his strength. Finally, the music sped up again. Sir Flad was not eager to let go of me, but with a solid shove I helped him on his way.
This game was losing its charm.
Round and round we went, the men all shoving one another like lunatics. Someone tripped mydearcousin—disgusting—sending him hurtling into a lady, and the music was now at its peak.
Spectators gawped. The king’s sonorous laugh crashed through the room as he caught the show. Great. This was not the attention I wanted. This was mortifying.
I prayed to the Guardians that the floor would cave in and swallow me whole.
The music slowed and the sharks circled, ready to feast on my flesh.
Then a dark-haired figure cut through the chaos and stood before me.
He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. Emerald-green eyes narrowed at me through midnight-black waves tossed carelessly back. His broad, full mouth rested above a strong, rounded jaw set with a dimple at its center. His large, almost-hooked nose would have looked awful on any other face, but on him it was perfect.
Without even a trace of a smile, he held out a hand to me. The way one wassupposedto perform this step.
Fate may have brought us together, but it was always the woman’s choice to accept her partner’s hand. Not to have hers seized greedily.
I smiled and accepted.
Dressed impeccably well, he wore tight-fitting pants that followed the fashion, showcasing muscular, long legs. His blue-and-gold tunic was belted at his slim waist and hugged his broad shoulders. He nearly matched my height, only a perfect spare inch or two taller. Entirely my equal.
“No fair!” spat Sir Flad as he and his partner swirled by us.
But he earned no reaction from my partner, just a flat, direct look that sent a chill down my spine. A look that could kill.
“I fear he will survive the humiliation,unfortunately,” I sneered.
“Not if I had my say.” His voice was low and grating, sending a thrill through me.Interesting.
“That almost sounded like a threat, Sir …?”
“You will know my name in good time.” With a steady palm resting on the small of my back, he guided me across the floor. Each step we took was in sync, our bodies already accustomed to one another, as if he and I fit wholly together.
“Why not simply tell me your name now?”
“Because then this dance will no longer be enjoyable for either of us.”
What did that mean?
“Do you not find this dance agreeable?” I asked, offended.
He looked down at me, face hard and pensive.
“I find itquiteagreeable,” he said, as if it pained him to admit it.
“Are you always this mysterious to dance with?” I asked.
“Always.”
