Cheers began to swell around them, and he placed his hands on her shoulders, her skin warm and soft. ‘Although,thisis just the beginning,’ he said as he turned her just as the fires roared faster and faster down the beach, the shouts reaching a joyous level as the main structure went up in flames.
‘It’s exquisite,’ she breathed. She scanned the beach once more, a quiet awe on her face. ‘Now what do we do?’
Aidon smiled as the quartet began to play, his hand finding the small of her back as he guided her forward. ‘Now, we dance.’
51
Aya found Will standing away from the merriment, hiding in the shadows cast from the bonfires.
‘Don’t you look approachable and fun,’ she smirked, pressing a glass of sparkling wine into his hand. Truth be told, his white linen dress shirt and tan trousers certainlydidmake him look approachable, despite his lurking in the shadows giving him the distinct air of someone trying to avoid stares – and doing so unsuccessfully. Aya marked the curious glances in his direction, but if Will noticed he didn’t let on. He merely offered her a small grin as he sipped the wine.
‘You said we had to come because Aidon invited us, not that we had to enjoy ourselves.’ His eyes scanned her, taking in her gown before settling on her flushed face. ‘Though you seem to be having an excellent time.’
Aya lifted a shoulder, turning to watch the next dance with him. ‘Are you pouting because there are no pretty redheads for you to charm?’
Will grinned. ‘Careful, Aya. I might just think you were jealous.’
She turned to face him fully, her lips twisting into a smirk, but any response died on her lips as the smooth sound of the cello cut through the balmy night, its melody slow and deep. The revelers slowed their movements, some shooting confused glances at the musicians as the cellist continued his honeyed rhythm that was clearly not typical of this land. Others merely pulled their partners close to partake in a slowand steady dance with those they loved most, not caring that an unfamiliar tune had begun to swell around them.
Aya stepped toward the fire as though in a daze, her gaze fixed on the quartet. Her breath caught as the violin joined in slowly, driving the melody forward in a heartbreakingly beautiful duet. They continued on before the other violinist wove her sound through them, the viola coming in to add its warmth to the cello beneath it all.
She knew this music; knew this very song. Had danced to it mere months ago on a cold night under a sky full of stars. ‘This is from home,’ Aya breathed, her eyes burning as she stared at the quartet. She could feel Will watching her, and she swallowed hard, finally turning to him. ‘You requested this?’
‘I did.’
‘Why?’
His jaw shifted as he contemplated her question. Finally, he gave a small shrug. ‘Because I miss it too.’ He looked as though he wanted to say more, but there was wariness in his gaze – a wariness she was sure she had put there with all she had done over the years. But whatever he beheld as he searched her face now had him continuing in another breath, the words spilling out on a long exhale, ‘And because I simply want to dance with you.’
The confession settled between them, stretching across the night air like a bridge.
He took her wine, setting it in the sand along with his own. And then he extended his hand and looked at her expectantly, as if he wasn’t the least bit afraid of what it might mean; as if he knew, even before she did, that she would accept his offer.
Another step forward, should she want to take it. Another layer of distrust pulled away, should she choose to accept it.
I have always seen you.
His rough palms scraped against her own as she slid her hand into his, their fingers intertwining as he pulled her gently into the midst of those dancing. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her close as they began to move to the music, the deep melody swelling around them. It was as if Aya could feel the strings of the quartet in her very soul, the somber yet sweet composition moving through her blood.
‘The last time we did this, I thought you were going to stab me,’ Will mused.
‘Who says I’m not still considering it?’ she teased, tilting her head back to catch his gaze. His eyes were bright, the light of the flames making the green in his irises flicker like small sparks of fire. Aya’s breath caught as he trailed his fingers down her spine slowly, her skin tingling as he stroked her bare back. He leaned in, his face mere inches from hers.
‘That’s funny,’ he drawled, his voice vibrating in every place she was pressed against him. ‘I don’t feel a blade.’
‘Not where your fingers are now at least,’ she crooned. Will stiffened as he blinked at her, surprise flaring in his eyes. And then he tipped his head back and laughed, the sound a rich tenor that touched every part of her, sparking something deep in her core – something new, some unfamiliar feeling she hadn’t let herself venture into before.
She grinned at him as he spun her once before tugging her back to him, notes of wood-smoke and spiced honey wrapping around her as fully as his arms that held her to him.
‘Touché, Aya love,’ he murmured. She let herself relax into him, let the building music sweep through her as Will guided them across the sand, his steps never faltering, his gray eyes never leaving hers. And for a moment there wassimply this: the swelling strings and his soothing scent and a settling deep within her, not unlike the feeling he’d used to disarm her when they were sparring for the young Visya in Dunmeaden what felt like a lifetime ago.
It felt like peace.
52
Will gave Aya a polite bow and a wink as the song ended, before strolling off through the revelers. Another song began, this one merry and fast.
‘Enjoying the festival?’
