He chuckled softly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean… I’m terribly sorry if that’s rude.”
“And how would you characterize autumn?” Again, there was a playful curiosity to the question.
“Well…” I shut my eyes for a moment, imagining, still swaying with him. “I think their hair would be…the deep-auburn hue of freshly turned leaves, still supple as they cling to the last dregs of life. Their eyes would perhaps be the beautiful golden color found at the tail end of an autumnal sunset. And their skin…a russet color, like the vestiges of summer that haven’t quite let go.” I opened my eyes and smiled at him, then added, “And a lot less grace on the dance floor.”
He smiled broadly, then said, “My high lord will be disappointed to find out that he’s so predictable. You’ve got him pegged, even down to the dancing.” He winked.
“Wait, you’re not a high lord?”
“I am not the high lord of the Autumn Court, no,” he said, flashing a conspiratorial grin. “He’s attending to business and sent me in his stead. He’ll be along tomorrow, I believe.”
“Then who the hell are you?”
He laughed in earnest. “I’ll give it to you, Nyleeria. Caius was right, you aren’t afraid of us at all.”
I scowled at his evasiveness and the implication that they’d already discussed me.
“My name is Endymion. I’m Autumn’s second-in-command.” He dipped his head in introduction.
I pulled away slightly to take him in. It was strange; the energy thrumming through him was that of a high lord—stronger, even—yet his power didn’t feel like it hailed from the Autumn Court. Although, this was all new to me, so what did I know?
“The way your eyes lay me bare, Nyleeria, you’re going to make me blush in front of all these guests,” he said, and although he was joking, he seemed just as stripped by my gaze as I was by his.
“You’re a warrior; surely, you can handle the assessing gaze of a human woman,” I crooned.
A flicker of surprise lit his eyes but was gone so swiftly that I doubted many would have noticed.
“How do you know I’m a warrior, Nyleeria?” The whispered words in my ear…my name on his lips… My body responded to him as if his hands had slid up my bare sides. I shook it off and focused on answering his taunting question.
“It’s your hands and your stature that give you away,” I said, launching into my assessment, the one I’d unwittingly formulated the moment we’d met. “You’re not truly comfortable here—surrounded by allies, yes, but not friends. It was evident in the casual fighter stance you held while you watched over the dancers. You’re right-handed with your sword, but a southpaw with your fists. No matter, as the sword is your weapon of choice. I’d say broadsword, by your size, but my knowledge of fae weaponry is…well, I have no knowledge of it, if I’m honest.” His mouth quirked up, and I continued. “You haven’t been off-balance once as we’ve been dancing, even if something I’ve said has caught you off guard, which leads me to believe that your fighting stance is in your blood. You’ve told me you’re second in command, meaning you were most likely born into this life and trained from a young age. Whether from choice or circumstance, I don’t know. I’d guess you’re over three hundred years old, but that’s just ballpark, and I’d say you’re no older than five hundred because you’re too intrigued by me to have been disenchanted by humans, which you would be if you were older. Weapons aren’t allowed here, but you have a dagger, maybe three inches in length, cleverly hidden beneath your belt. I’d wager good coin that you have at least one more in your boot. You weren’t expecting to be close to someone who would notice, or you would have taken greater care to hide it, or kept my hand from dragging across your body during the last promenade.”
He looked at me, astonished, recalculating who I was. I was shocked myself. I’d never cataloged that much information on anyone before.
He swallowed. “Is that all?” The words gruff.
“Your calluses confirmed what I’d already known when you took my hands.” I rubbed my finger along his palm, feeling those small, rough patches scratch across my skin. He interlaced our fingers, halting the movement.
Another tug at the corner of his mouth. “Is my secret safe with you?” The words were a playful taunt.
I knew he meant the blade, but I couldn’t resist indulging in a good banter once it started.
“You mean that you’ve fallen for me in one dance?” I teased back. His smile widened, going almost predatory. “I think we can keep that between us.” I gave him a saccharine smile.
He emitted a low chuckle, and the beautiful, fulsome sound rumbled through my core.
“I think you’ve made me fail my mission, Nyleeria.” That playful edge was still present in his words.
“Oh, pray tell.”
“I was supposed to learn about you, but I fear I’m leaving this dance with more questions than answers,” he said, and although his tone was light, they rang true.
“A lady must always keep a male on his toes.”
Mischief played in his eyes as the dance came to a close.
He took my hand in his and pressed his silken lips against the back of it. Leaning in, he said, “I look forward to dancing with you again, Nyleeria.”
