“Dance?”
“Yeah. Ballroom dance?”
She stares at me blankly.
“You don’t have dancing in Tundrayn?”
“We have dancing,” she huffs, crossing her arms. “The drum dance.” I raise a brow. “Lots of swaying? Stamping in time with drum beats? Swaying hips?”
My lips tick up. “There’s no stamping in a ballroom dance.”
She bites her lower lip, mouth turning down in an irresistible pout that has me yearning to kiss it into a smile. I rise, offering her my hand.
“Here, I’ll show you. It’s easy.”
She doesn’t move, looking up at me from beneath her lashes, so I grasp her hand and pull her to her feet.
“Zev, there’s no music,” she laughs. The soft, tinkling sound brings a smile to my face.
“We’ll manage.” I place her hand on my shoulder, finding the curve of her waist with mine. Fingers intertwined. “Just follow my lead. Step when I step.”
We sway softly, her slight frame pressed against me—far from what would be appropriate in front of the court, but I’m drowning in the sea of her gaze, in the serenity of the night, and I can’t bring myself to care.
“You’re very good,” she breathes. Our gazes lock, her ocean-blue eyes swirling with delight and wonder. Something warm and perfect andrightblooms in my chest.
“My mother taught me.”
Mayah steps on my feet often, but I don’t mind at all. After the third time, though, she looks flustered and embarrassed. And I can’t have that.
“Come up onto my feet, Mayah.”
“No, I—”
I grasp her waist and lift her up, until her feet are balanced on my boots. Her hands twine around my neck, chest brushing mine with every breath.
We dance. The world falls away, and there’s no war, no alliance, no politics. Just us, bathed in moonlight, dancing amidst the quiet sounds of the forest.
Skies, she’s so beautiful and strong andgood. If I died right now, with her hand in mine, life seeping away as I gazed at her face, I’d be content. My heart thrums painfully in my chest, and I find myself inching closer. My gaze drops to her lips, then back to her piercing eyes.
“Mayah…”
Her soft hand cradles my face, and I swear by the Skies and Thunder and Lightning there’s longing in her gaze, too. Adoration and warmth and—
My eyes flutter shut, and I cover her hand with my own, pressing it harder against my cheek, tracing my fingers over hers.
I freeze.
My thumb brushes over something hard. Cold.
With trembling fingers, I pull her hand from my face, holding it aloft in the moonlight.
My brother’s betrothal ring shines on her finger, its dark gleam sucking the air from my lungs.
I drop her hand.
She’s betrothed to my brother. To fucking Faramir. Shards of ice lodge in my throat, pierce through my heart.
I pull away, heart pummeling my ribs.
