Page 8 of The Endless Dance

My eyes flicker to Rita and Frieda in the mirror’s reflection, and they both nod, faces tight.

“It’s time,” Rita confirms.

I take a deep breath, pulling at my skirts for a final time before giving myself a firm nod.

“Right,” I say, turning to face them. “Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

I am barely out of the tent, blinking in the bright light of the sunrise, when the screaming and sobbing start. Jeers and laughter quickly follow. I turn towards the clearing and feel instantly sick to my stomach. The field has become a kind of outdoor festival, with music, lounges, bars, tables, and chairs clumped in small groups. Within those groups, males and females gossip and gander cheerily amongst themselves.

And then there are the women.

Many, like me, wear scant clothing, but an unfortunate larger number lack even that basic decency. Many are completely naked, forced to stand on tables as their males show them off, while others kneel at their captors' feet. Some women are filthy and injured from their ordeal in the forest, and one pale young girl even sports a broken arm. I can see the swelling and bruises on the dangling limb from here. I wince in sympathy for the poor girl.

My skin prickles. I don’t need to see him to know the High Lord of Light is watching me. I quickly fix my face into an expression of bored indifference and turn forward. There are two gazebos set up at the head of the clearing. One shadowed and dark, the other open and light.

Draekoh lounges in the latter, lazily upon his opalescent throne. As expected, his eyes are intent on me. I kick my chin up and lengthen my strides, the cool grass kissing my bare feet with each step. He looks tense. Jaw locked and twitching, eyes simmering and heavy, hands clenched into angry fists.

My lips quirk, and I let them slide into a satisfied smirk. Rita and Frieda were right. I would have the High Lord kissing my toes in no time.

Draekoh’s eyes thin, and he looks away quickly, his muscles forcefully relaxing.

“Lord Draekoh,” I coo as I stop just shy of the gazebo. The male guards accompanying me bow, then scatter into their positions around the tent. “It is a beautiful morning, is it not?”

Draekoh’s eyes flicker to me in annoyance. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he jerks his head, small and sharp, to his side, where a golden lounge sits prettily in the spotlight. I huff and storm over to it, plonking down in an extremely unladylike way, which is a big mistake. I quickly throw my shoulders back as my breasts threaten to spill from the slouched fabric. I press my legs together in front of me and fold my hands in my lap. I curse silently to myself. I was going to have the sorest ass and back after sitting like this for however long the Lord demands.

My eyes flick to the side. He’s not looking at me, but I know he senses my discomfort, what with the satisfied leer pulling at his lips.

“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath. He hears this, of course, with his unnatural hearing, and his grin only grows.

Frieda, Rita, and a sour-faced Laska get into position behind my seat. I hoped they didn’t have to stand there all day.

After a moment, I clear my throat. “Where is Akari?” I ask loudly.

Draekoh doesn’t even turn to look at me when he responds dryly, “Sol took the girl directly to Summer.”

I wait, but when he doesn’t elaborate, I push.

“Why?”

All the other males were out here parading their prizes around. Why would Sol be any different?

Draekoh sighs. “Sol is a solitary male. He does not find joy in,” he sneers, “petty parties.”

“Oh.”

We fall into silence, and as the minutes go by, I find myself slumping slowly back into the couch, then quickly correcting my posture when I realise what I am doing. I tap my toes. Is this it? Was I supposed to sit here all day then? I was going to die of boredom well before that. It was stupid of me to want something to happen, but I wasn’t the kind of person who could sit in place for a time while doing nothing.

I turn my head and whisper to my handmaids, “Surely I am not expected to just sit here?”

The women and female dart nervous looks towards the High Lord, then quickly settle into gazing back into the distance over my head. I guess they were not allowed to speak. Great. I suppose I could just start a conversation with myself? I could sing some songs quietly, though with the fae’s superior hearing, I’d be putting on a concert. A terrible one at that.

“You can dance for me, if you wish?”

My head snaps to face the High Lord. He’s still not looking at me, but his eyes glitter with mirth even as his lips twitch.

“Like fuck,” I hiss.