Her beauty made me ache.
But not for her.
Nritti reached for the princeling. The princeling reached for her. Music fell through the air. Golden-throated sparrows collapsed into dew. Silver-tailed fish shivered into feathers. I could breathe the air and it tasted like relief.
“A dance for lovers,” said Gupta, jabbing me with his elbow.
The princeling and Nritti whirled off and into the stage, leaving her alone. Alone with her chin perched in her palm, an arch smile stretching her lips. But I knew her smile. The details of it had somehow emblazoned itself into my bones so that I couldn’t smile myself without feeling the weight of her grin propping me up. The smile she wore now was only a memory of how a smile should look.
Gupta grumbled, and I was shoved forward.
“Move, fool.”
I moved. And when I walked to her, I certainly felt like a fool. A crowd watched as I cut a path to her. She hadn’t noticed yet. Her gaze was distant and unfocused. A comet’s tail left a trail of smoke across her shoulder. Today, she was dressed in all her finery. Thin rings of beaten gold and amber circled her wrist. A delicate chain of silver bells fell across her waist.
“Who is he?” whispered anaga.
His would-be mate shrugged, her cobra hood flaring out so she could gossip in privacy.
“Not a demon,” whispered anasurato theyakshiniwith sea-foam hair.
“Not a human,” she replied.
I felt the silk of the hood tickling my neck and drew a sigh of relief. In this way, at least, I was safe from their gaze. No line flanked her vendor stall, and yet she had returned to rearranging night fruit and sprucing up the plate of sample slices. When she felt my shadow across hers, she spoke without looking up:
“I’ve poisoned all the fruit, so think twice before you…”
She looked up and stared.
“Poisoned fruit?” I asked. “What a romantic thing to sell on this momentous occasion.”
A corner of her lips quirked into a grin. I felt it in my bones.
“I am certain there is at least one lover out there who will thank me.”
“The unfortunate thing is that I believe you. But if you did such a thing, then I would have to work on a holiday.”
“We can’t have that.”
Why did I thrill when she saidwe?Iandyouwere thin, solitary words remade by her lips the moment she spokewe.
“No,” I said, savoring the next words, the unshaped wonder of them: “We can’t.”
She looked behind me, and the smile slid off her face. I followed her gaze to see a small crowd milling from the outskirts of the stage where couples leapt and danced.
“Dance with me,” she said. Commanded.
And I nodded dumbly. As if I could do anything else.
Her hand rested on my shoulder and my thoughts splintered at her touch.
“I almost didn’t recognize you with that hood on,” she said.
I spun her in a circle and a constellation slipped from her wrist to her elbow.
“I would have worn it the first time we met if I knew it would make you laugh.”
“It makes me laugh only because you look ridiculous,” she said. “And I can’t tell what you’re thinking or feeling when it covers your eyes.”
