Her friend shook her head. “No. I’d lose if I bet against you on that one. I’ve seen the two of them miskissing the laundry house more than once. Why would he choose her now when he’s already kissed her many times?”
That was an excellent question. Many girls, younger and older than Ceybold vied for his attention, and he’d certainly enchanted them with his charm and handsomeness. Disaris had never witnessed him courting one particular girl, including Curinet (miskissing her behind the village laundry house didn’t count as courting in her opinion). Who else besides Curinet had captured his interest but not yet succumbed to his flirtations?
Because Ceybold had accepted both challenges, the challenger continued with the Bravery part. “Then I challenge you to ask her for a kiss,” she said.
They players erupted into shouts and whistles, calling out encouragement and suggesting names. Disaris called out her own suggestion, armed with the knowledge Nazlen had just shared with her. “Curinet!” she shouted. “It’s Curinet!”
Ceybold began a stroll around the circle, pausing multiple times in front of different girls, only to dash their hopes when he moved on. He even bypassed Curinet whose face caught fire with embarrassment.
Disaris growled. “What an arse he is,” she practically snarled.
“I should have wagered against you,” Nazlen said.
Tempted to march across the circle’s middle and slap Ceybold’s smug face, Disaris crushed the folds of her skirt in her hands. “If Curinet’s smart, she’ll toss that moldy tarse asideand find a nicer boy to miskiss behind the laundry house.” Her wariness of and dislike for Ceybold just increased tenfold.
Nazlen gaped at her. “I hope your mother never hears you swear like that.”
Disaris shrugged. “She hasn’t yet, or I wouldn’t be standing here alive and well, talking to you.”
She turned her attention back to Ceybold who continued his journey around the circle, finally stopping when he stood in front of her and Nazlen. Disaris glared at him when he smiled at both girls. “No need to pause and preen, Ceybold,” she snapped. “Neither of us is any more interested than you are. Keep moving.”
His eyes narrowed, and the practiced smile thinned. “Who says I’m not interested?”
Loud whispers rose among the circle observing their interactions, exclamations of disbelief that reflected her own surprise at Ceybold’s unexpected action.
“Oh my gods, he’s picking Nazlen!”
“When did he ever notice Nazlin before?”
“He never mentioned Nazlen to me.”
One lone voice rose above the rest, making Disaris nearly abandon her anger in favor of laughter. “What if he wants to kiss Disa?”
Even when she didn’t laugh, the others did, amused snorts and stifled giggles. She might have been offended if she didn’t find the idea as ludicrous as they did.
Ceybold didn’t laugh, and he no longer smiled. The stare he settled on her threatened to burn a hole through her if she stayed in one place too long. She took a cautious step back and vehemently shook her head when he didn’t deny the last conjecture. She reached for Nazlin, only to find the girl had stepped away from them both, eyes wide. Ceybold never looked her way.
Another chant rose, quieter than the first so as not to alert the adults still celebrating in the town square. “Kiss him, Disa! Kiss him, Disa!”
“No,” she said flatly, staring back at Ceybold. She wasn’t to be swayed. They’d have better luck convincing her to fight wolves blindfolded with only a rake for a weapon to defend herself.
Ceybold’s gaze only intensified at her refusal. She had the strangest notion that this stand-off between them was something more, a test of sorts as if he hoped to discover an important secret of hers.
He leaned forward, and she leaned away. “Kiss me,” he said, “and I will see to it Bron comes home for a visit in less than a month from now.”
His words were hardly audible above the chanting, but she heard every one of them with a sizzle of excitement. The idea of seeing Bron again and so soon, set her heart racing. Still, she didn’t trust Ceybold. “How can you—” she raked him with her most withering glare. “Promise such a thing? You’re just the son of a yeoman in a Daesin village.”
There was no mistaking the flash of anger in his eyes. His mild tone belied the emotion, but Disaris wasn’t fooled. “My father has connections,” he said. “Can your father say the same?”
She eyed him for several moments, ignoring the demands from the impatient crowd that she make up her mind one way or the other about kissing Ceybold. She’d absolutely fight wolves blindfolded if it meant she got a chance to see Bron again. She supposed she could suffer a quick peck from Ceybold. There was still something that puzzled her though. “Why do you want to kiss me? We don’t even like each other.”
Sensing he was halfway to victory and her consent, his tight features relaxed. The triumphant glint in his eyes was practically feral, and she wondered if maybe she’d made a mistake. Shetook another step back. He caught her arm to hold her in place. “Because,” he said, “this is a game I want to win.”
Every instinct inside Disaris warned he didn’t speak of the childish Honesty and Bravery. She chose to ignore the warning. The chance to see Bron was too great a temptation to resist. “Fine,” she finally agreed. “A kiss, but not a long one, and if you try to stick your tongue in my mouth, I’ll bit it off.” The very idea of such a possibility made her want to gag.
She squawked a protest when he pulled her into his arms, his laughter mocking as his friends cheered him on. Disaris tried to free herself, only to surrender when Ceybold told her “This is part of it,” he said. “Fight me, and I walk. And Bron stays at Burnpool.”
His mockery vanished when she bared her teeth at him. “If you’re lying to me, I’ll cut you into pieces with my harvesting knife and feed them to Farmer jin Laren’s pigs.”
