Once someone finally screwed up the courage to ask Torex to partner with them, everyone was clamoring to do it. The King scowled at the scene that was being made, but Torex seemed not to notice if he was dancing with a baker or a princess or a farmer. He whirled them down the line and knew every step effortlessly, because of course he did.
Pel wondered how the man could be such a contradiction.
Was he really just a product of society, and he hadn’t noticed how the change to the competition would make Pel feel? Because he’d seemed genuinely horrified when Pel had told him, and although he seemed to be having a lovely time now, his smile slipped just often enough for Pel to be left with the impression that he was faking it just as much as Pel was.
How could theybothbe miserable?
Torex danced with Larexa and then with Bavil—and then there was a great clamoring from the crowd, and Pel found himself paired the High Prince. They stared at one another stiffly for a moment, and then Pel bowed awkwardly, Torex returned the gesture, and they both tacked smiles on their faces.
Torex really was an accomplished dancer, and under any other circumstances, this might have been pleasant. Just at the moment, it was pure torture. Pel wanted to run, and he wanted to grab onto Torex and shake him… and maybe there was part of him that wanted this to be a real dance that they were doing because they wanted to dance together, and that just made the irritation and confusion surge higher in Pel. They stared at one another every time they met up in the dance again, entirely fake smiles on their faces as the crowd cheered and clapped around them.
They had to go through three dances before the crowd seemed satisfied, Torex laughing and assuring everyone that he needed to catch his breath and grab a drink before he expired in the middle of the floor—or hadn’t they noticed him running from arrows earlier?
There was much good-natured laughing, and they were finally able to separate. Pel was thirsty, too, but there was no way he was going to the refreshment table at the same time as Torex.
He realized that they hadn’t spoken a single word while they’d been dancing.
Pel was still angry, but the lack of normal interaction also stung. Torex disappeared without another word, and Pel made himself look away so he didn’t keep staring after the other man like a complete fool.
Slipping off the dance floor, he found a chair near the far wall where he could surely sit for a minute or two. Someone sat down beside him. Resigned, he turned his head to find that it was his brother. He raised an eyebrow. Bavil held out a cup.
“I thought you might be thirsty.”
Pel examined this, but there didn’t seem to be anything objectionable in it.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the drink and sipping at it.
Lemonade. Their father was really committed to this endeavor if he’d sacrificed some of the lemons grown in Alossa.
Bavil nodded and rose to his feet. “Congratulations. You did great today.”
He was gone before Pel could respond.
It seemed like a very straightforward compliment, but it couldn’t be… could it?
Pel stared down at his drink and wondered when life had gotten so complicated.
Well, it certainly hadn’t grownlesscomplicated when a certain High Prince had shown up and seemed determined to turn Pel’s life upside down. Why had he clapped loudest when Pel had won, but then decided that he simply had to add magic to the mix? Why was he laughing and dancing with everyone here but he’d spent the entire dance with Pel just staring at him, eyes weirdly somber even with that meaningless smile tacked on?
They were friends, or Pel had thought they were, and it certainly didn’t seem as though Pel was the punchline of a joke, not the way Tor was acting. So maybe instead of running away, Pel should have demanded an explanation.
He couldn’t imagine that any explanation would be adequate, but maybe there wassomething. There were nebulous hopes swirling around his head along with all the doubts.
Torhadcome to ask him what was wrong when he’d realized Pel was upset. Even if Pel thought the man was a fool, that had to count for something, didn’t it?
And Pel couldn’t get answers unless he actuallylistened. Suddenly, Pel couldn’t wait until the dancing and feasting were over, but they obviously had a mind of their own. Reluctantly, he continued to mingle and try to be gracious with everyone who wanted to talk to him, even if magic was what they wanted to discuss.
As the minutes ticked by, he became more determined to get answers. He’d never get to sleep if he didn’t.
He seemed to be the only person anxious for the celebration to end, though. And Peldidlike how happy everyone was. Perhaps they could make this an annual event. It would have to seem like his father’s idea, of course, or maybe Bavil could suggest it. Sometimes, the heir was allowed to make suggestions that the King would actually listen to.
He stared at his brother, who was currently dancing with one of Larexa’s pretty attendants. If he was sleeping with any of them, the rumor hadn’t made its way to Pel. It occurred to him suddenly that his brother flirted a lot, and no one could deny what happened with Marwila, but there hadn’t been any incidents since then, not that had made their way to Pel’s ears.
Whenever the incident came up, Bavil still acted like he’d been in the right… but he wasn’t continuing tobehavelike that.
He was an accomplished archer, too, if not quite as good as Pel. Yet he hadn’t participated in the competition. Had he not wanted to risk losing out to his Unremarkable brother?
A voice in his head that sounded a lot like Tor’s pointed out that the other reason to not compete was to leave this as an event for Pel.
