Karvek twisted slightly in the chair, giving her more space but angling his body toward hers. Even with her sitting on the arm of his chair, he was still a bit taller than her.
“What do you think?” he asked, looking out at the scene before them. Twirling figures draped in silks, roiling melodies, and officers lounging around the room.
She wasn’t dressed half as finely or revealingly as the dancers. She wore her usual undershirt and leggings, and she had put on one of her knee-length dresses. No one had warned her what to expect, but at least she was wearing clean clothes. She should have tried harder.
“They are wonderful dancers.” She swallowed, taking the moment to look more closely. “Their dresses—they are fire-imbued, aren’t they?” She could feel her heart race again.
She knew little of fire-forgings, only that they let a person channel passion and emotion into their craft in a way that amplified the emotions of those witnessing or using the fire-imbued item.
Her family’s stories frequently talked of fire-forged horn-blowers that brought confidence and adrenaline to the surface, readying them for difficult battles. The Guardians of Klees hadn’t had a horn-blower since the dakii came, though. She faintly remembered a fire-forged performer passing through Klees, but Iryana hadn’t been old enough to attend. She’d heard of fire-forgings that held fire, except they didn’t need a candle or oil to burn. Her cousin Tonhald’s wife was fire-forged, but she used hers to make cold-resistant clothing for the clan to help them through winter, and Iryana had never been close enough with Teshya to ask about her life before the village.
“Indeed,” he confirmed. “The embroidery was done with a fire-forged needle, allowing certain emotions of the wearer and beholders to be brought to the surface. Can you feel it?”
“Yes.” It certainly explained the warm feeling inside her. It was subtle.
Karvek tilted his head toward hers while they watched the dancers. “Fire-forged magic is fascinating. It’s a shame there are no fire wells anywhere near here, or we may have ended up with more fire-forged. Can you imagine witnessing a true fire-forged performance?”
“Is this not that?”
He chuckled. “This is but fire-imbued magic. I have heard that the wail of a fire-forged violin can bring a person to their knees weeping, and a painter with forged brushes can feed enough joy into a painting to make any who view it feel true bliss. There are paintings in this estate of dancers wearing forged jewelry, like chains of brilliant rubies.
“I was sixteen when the dakii came, old enough to get into some trouble first.” He winked at her, and Iryana blinked in surprise. “I remember going to a circus where one performer had fire-forged rings she tossed into the air and danced with. It was a circus, of course, so the forgings were to feed comedy, and I’ve never laughed so hard in my life.”
There was a wistful look in his eyes that she couldn’t explain. She would never claim to understand Karvek that well, but she was surprised by his love of the fire-forged magic. Of something that affected him beyond his control. When he seemed like a man who wanted nothing more than control.
Still, the conversation seemed a good choice to postpone whatever he had brought her for.
“Do the dresses affect the dancers as they do us?” she asked.
“Even more so. Something imbued with fire magic will affect the wearer or user to a greater degree than those witnessing it. A fire-forging itself though, is reversed. The effect on the person who forged it is small, but it will affect everyone else to an incredible degree.”
Though focused on Karvek, she saw one of the courtesans in the corner of her eye start peeling her dress off. Iryana’s eyes flicked toward the others, and there was far more skin revealed than before. Like they were getting carried away with the magic.
“Does their magic affect other fire-forged?” she asked quickly, picking a place on the wall to the side to stare at. Anything to keep him talking.
“A bit.” Karvek nodded, considering her. “They are less affected by the magic of all fire forgings, though.”
“Where did the dresses come from?” Iryana looked at him, meeting those pale blue eyes.
She was feeling warm, and not because of the dancers.Focus, she reminded herself, keeping her eyes solely trained on Karvek. He seemed aware of what she was doing but amused by it.
“Whoever resided in Myura River before us abandoned it in a hurry. There were several imbued treasures to be found when we moved in.”
“How fortunate, then.” Iryana shifted uncomfortably, wondering how much her family had left behind in Klees.
Karvek leaned back against the chair, watching the others in the room. Iryana didn’t have much of a choice but to do the same, unless she wanted to just awkwardly stare at his profile.
The courtesans dancing swapped out with some of the mingling ones, a man now up there dancing with a young woman whose hair was pale as daisies. Instead of dancing apart like those before, they danced together. His hands trailing over her body, hers over his. They pressed together as they moved, slowly pulling at clothing. They were smiling and laughing, clearly seeming to enjoy themselves.
The officers seemed glued to the performance, the other courtesans making their rounds around the room to see who wanted their attention. Other than a few lingering glances, they didn’t come anywhere near Karvek, which seemed strange given it was his gathering.
Unless that was her purpose. Iryana looked at him again, swallowing down the panic.
No one seemed to be there against their will, but that didn’t mean they really had much of a choice when their general invited them. Still, it brought to mind something from life before the beasts came. People who would follow the military around to where they were stationed, looking for soldiers to warm their beds. Perhaps it was like that?
Karvek’s eyes drifted over to her occasionally, not in a secretive manner, but in an appraising sort of way. Like he was looking for something. He didn’t reach for her, like the other officers did with the courtesans, their fingers twirling and tugging at the flowing silk.
She eventually relaxed again, as much as she could in such a gathering at least.
