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For the first time in what felt like ages, her heart felt light.

She joined a group of village women, slipping easily into the circle dance. Skirts flared, braids bounced, and giggles erupted through the group as several young men attempted, poorly, to seize a partner. The women darted away like bright birds, shrieking with laughter, leaving the rejected men scratching their heads or bowing playfully in defeat. Beitris laughed until her sides ached, letting the music shake loose the last remnants of sadness.

After several dances, breathless and warm, she made her way toward where her parents sat enjoying the festivities. Her mother waved her over, but Beitris first accepted a cool cup of ale from a vendor. Joining her parents, she fanned her flushed face with her free hand, trying to settle her racing pulse. The night air brushed her cheeks, carrying with it the sweet notes of spring blossoms and the faint tang of wood smoke. For a moment, she closed her eyes and simply let herself feel alive.

A new lively tune struck up, and her feet tapped of their own accord. When she opened her eyes, Gowan stood before her, a mountain of a man with a shy smile peeking from beneath his beard. She couldn’t help but return the smile, warm and genuine. He bowed exaggeratedly, offering his hand. Her mother nudged her, urging her to accept. She placed hers in his, and he guided her back to the dancers.

Despite his size, Gowan moved with surprising grace. He twirled her around the square with the ease of a man accustomed to physical labor but rarely indulging in such merriment. His laughter boomed above the music, infectious enough that she found herself laughing along.

He leaned close, his breath warm at her ear. “Ye seem to be enjoying yerself.”

“I am,” she replied truthfully, because in that moment, she was.

As he spun her again, Beitris let her gaze sweep over the crowd. Torchlight glimmered off bright ribbons, children raced between adults, and all around her, the village pulsed with easy joy. She searched instinctively for a familiar stride, a familiar auburn head. Her brother. Keir was dutifully making his rounds, eyes sharp even on a night of celebration. She worried about him, always so serious, so determined to protect everyone but himself. When this dance ended, she decided she would drag him into the circle whether he wished it or not.

But then she found him.

Keir stood near the dancers speaking to someone.

Her breath caught.

Liam.

The sound of the music dimmed around her, muffled by the sudden rush of blood in her ears. Liam stood tall beside her brother, the torchlight catching the angles of his face, casting his jaw in sharp relief. Even across the crowd, she recognized the tension in his shoulders. And then, oh heavens, his gaze struck hers.

He was glaring.

A hot spark of triumph flickered in her chest. Good, she thought savagely, allowing the corner of her lips to lift in a satisfied smile as Gowan twirled her once more. Let him see. Let him ken she wasn’t going to pine after a man who’d dismissed her so easily, who’d left her heart bruised and aching.

Let him look and let it sting.

Because she intended to live her life, and tonight, she intended to dance.

Liam’s glare didn’t waver, even as the dancers spun between them. It pinned her like a thrown dagger, sharp enough to catch her breath. Beitris tore her gaze away, lifting her chin slightly as if that tiny movement might shield her from the sudden storm tightening her chest.

She pretended she didn’t feel it, that pull toward him she’d sworn she was done with. Pretended she didn’t notice the way he shifted his stance, as though fighting the urge to march across the square and drag her away from Gowan like some jealous fool.

Gowan, blissfully unaware, was grinning down at her. “Ye dance well, Beitris.”

She returned the smile, though it trembled at the edges. “And ye do as well.”

But even as she said it, her eyes betrayed her.

They slid back toward Liam.

He hadn’t moved. Keir spoke beside him, but Liam didn’t seem to hear a word. His entire focus, intense and unwavering, was fixed on her. She recognized that look, though she’d only ever seen a shadow of it before. A look that held heat and confusion and something that set her pulse skittering like beads spilled across a stone floor.

The song ended in a burst of whistles and stomping feet, and Gowan released her reluctantly, wiping his brow with a broad forearm.

“Thank ye, Beitris. That was the most fun I’ve had at a fête in quite some time.”

She dipped a small curtsy. “Thank ye as well.”

People bustled around her, the music fading as the musicians retuned their instruments. Yet she stood rooted, her heartbeat thrumming wildly as she sensed, no, felt, someone approaching.

She didn’t turn right away.

She didn’t need to.