Page 111 of Black Sea

“Lady Nauriel,” Yelgnib, a second cousin of mine, called out to me, suddenly standing up at the end of the third course of freshwater fish.

He was slightly taller than me, with a gentle face and thick auburn-blond hair that highlighted his very light green eyes. He had become infatuated with me at a young age. Many centuries later, he had even attempted to court me, ultimately giving up not because of my constant but polite refusals, but because his parents, with a stern look, had made him understand that I certainly could not be the mate the Spirits had chosen for him.

Thus far, on the threshold of thousand years, he still hadn’t found his soulmate. And from the way he looked at me during occasions like this, I sadly suspected he hadn’t given up hope of us being together.

“Yes, Cousin Yelgnib?” I asked, pretending to be curious even though I already knew what he wanted.

“Would you do me the honor of opening the dance with me?” he asked, smiling so broadly that wrinkles appeared at the root of his nose.

Araton covered a laugh with a cough. Even my father had a hard time hiding his amusement as he encouraged me to accept.

“Of course, Cousin,” I replied, holding back the temptation to stick out my tongue at my brother and father.

As soon as I rose from my chair, I felt as if an unseen force was grabbing my wrist to pull me back down. I gasped suddenly, confused. Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at Amlach, who was clutching his fist on his thigh, and for a moment, I had the impression I could only hear his irritated breathing.

I chased away the senseless turmoil that had snaked inside me and reached the dance floor with Yelgnib.

The orchestra and the three singers performed a lively ballad about a little elf whose love for life, expressed through dance, lifted a dark curse that had gripped her village for years, restoring light to the faces of its people.

My cousin and I began moving around each other like fawns, never actually touching but clapping our hands in time with the music. Before long, I realized I was smiling, caught up in the song’s lyrics and rhythm. Soon, more elves, including three of my beautiful cousins, joined us, and we all ended up dancing together in a large circle.

As the music concluded, we all appeared to glow with inner happiness. We clapped for the orchestra, then I let Yelgnib guide me back to our table, giving him a quick nod as he bowed.

“You dance divinely, Princess,” Amlach complimented me as I sat back beside him.

Despite his smile, his eyes made me feel as though he wanted to pulverize me.

“And the music . . .” he continued, turning to my parents. “I’ve never heard more harmonious notes! Our ballads sound off-key and, alas, terribly dull in comparison.”

“Your Majesty,” said the maiden who had stayed beside him instead of joining her sisters, “would you honor us with a dance from your people? I don’t know about you, Uncles, but I’m very curious! And I’m eager to learn more about your customs, King Amlach.”

A surge of anger made my blood boil. It was crystal clear that my cousin had just hinted to Amlach that his choice should fall on her, the most suitable and mature of the four.

“Oh, yes!” one of her sisters exclaimed, still flushed from the group dance.

“Please, Majesty!” the third sister followed.

“We want to see how you dance in your court!” the last one said.

“Unfortunately, I must decline the request, my ladies,” Amlach replied, with a touch of amusement. He cast a wise glance at my parents. “I believe our dances are not appropriate for the delicacy and elegance of you elves.”

“We know how to be passionate, too,” I interject, in a peppery tone, causing my cousins to chuckle sheepishly.

Amlach’s eyebrows went up as he grimaced indulgently. “I doubt that.”

Without thinking, I rose and extended my hand to him with my palm facing down. “I dare you, Your Grace.”

My cousins gasped, and the rush of cold that lashed my bare shoulders told me Father was not pleased with how things were unfolding.

I didn’t care.

Nor did Amlach, whose gaze was locked to mine, oblivious to the anxious expressions of my relatives. A slow smile stretched his lips. “As you wish, Your Highness,” he said, rising from his chair and towering over me with his usual smugness.

The instant he took my hand, all the guests appeared to hold their breath. Even the musicians stopped, captivated, as Amlach and I moved to the center of the water-surrounded platform.

The pad of his thumb brushed slightly across the back of my fingers before he let me go to greet the orchestra with a modest bow. After that, he positioned himself in front of me, just over three feet away, and crossed his hands behind his back in a haughty manner.

“Play Dei Musa, please,” he told the musicians in a thundering voice, cunning coming alive in his eyes.