Another round of the farache began, and I watched her dancing with Orrin, stamping her foot toward him, retreating back. They circled and clapped their hands high over their heads, and then slapped them together, the sound ringing through the field, echoing off the high walls. Orrin laughed, oblivious to my stare or her maneuvers, and I marveled at how he lived so fully in the moment. Whether it was dancing, cooking, or pulling back his arrow for the kill, only the moment mattered. Maybe that was why he was such a skilled archer, and a fearless one. I didn’t have the luxury of living only in a single moment. I had to live in a hundred fractured moments that held our futures in the balance. I had a new understanding of my father—my mother too—and the decisions they had to make, sometimes compromising something they wanted for the greater good of something else.
The dancers sidestepped to the right, a new partner circled back from the opposite end, and I saw Lia matched with Kaden. I had been so focused on her, I hadn’t even noticed him farther down in the line of dancers. Their hands clapped overhead, and then when they circled, I saw words pass between them. Only words. She had spoken with Orrin too, but this time the unheard words burned through me.
“Your Majesty?”
Vilah caught me by surprise. I sat up from my slouched position. She curtsied, her brown cheeks blushing warmer, then she held her hand out to me. “You haven’t danced all night. Do me the honor?”
I took her hand, trying to shake my flustered state, and stood. “I’m sorry. I’ve been—”
“Occupied. I know.”
Instead of me escorting her to the dance floor, she led the way, and instead of going to the end of the line, she squeezed in to Lia’s right. I reluctantly took my place opposite her, realizing how easily she had duped me. I raised a questioning brow, and she smiled, stamping toward me to begin our dance. I stamped back. We circled, we clapped, and it seemed it was only seconds before it was time to move to the right—to a new partner.
Lia and I stood opposite each other. She dipped her chin in cursory acknowledgment. I did the same. The rest of the dancers were already moving toward one another. We worked to catch up. She stamped forward, and I retreated. When it was my turn to move toward her, she didn’t retreat.
“Tired?” I asked.
“Never. I’m simply not fond of that step.”
We circled, my back brushing hers.
“Thank you for coming,” I said over my shoulder.
She snorted.
I reminded myself not to speak.
At our last overhead clap, just as our hands touched, the music immediately changed to the ammarra—the midnight dance of lovers. Someone was conspiring with Vilah. My hand squeezed around Lia’s, slowly lowering it, bringing it to my side. My other hand circled her waist, and I pulled her close—as the dance dictated. I felt the stiffness of her back, but kept my hold firm. I breathed in the scent of her hair and felt the softness of her fingers between mine.
“I don’t know this dance,” she whispered.
“Let me show you.” I tucked my chin near her temple and pulled her hips close to mine as I leaned her back, then swept her to the side, bringing her upright as we circled around.
The muscles in her back loosened, and she relaxed in my arms. The night suddenly seemed darker, the music more distant, and though the air was cool, her skin was hot against mine. I searched for something to say, something that wouldn’t take our conversation to places I didn’t want to go.
“Lia,” I whispered against her cheek. It was all I could utter, even though other words crowded my mind. I wanted to tell her about Dalbreck, its beauty and wonders, the people who would love and welcome her, all the things she would marvel at, but I knew, no matter what I said, it would lead her back to Morrighan, and for me it would lead back to the traitors and noose she would face there.
The music slowed, and she lifted her head from my shoulder. Only shallow breaths separated our lips for a long-drawn moment, but then her back tightened again, and I knew it was far more than a breath that lay between us. We stepped apart, and her eyes searched mine.
“You never intended to take me back to Morrighan, did you?” she asked.
There were no more creative dodges left in me. “No.”
“Even before you knew that your parents were dead. Before you knew any of your troubles back home.”
“I was trying to keep you alive, Lia. I said what I thought you needed to hear at the time. I was trying to give you hope.”
“I have hope, Rafe. I’ve had it all along. I never needed false hope from you.”
Her expression betrayed no emotion, except for the glisten in her eyes, but that was enough to hollow me out. She turned and walked away, the bones jingling at her hip, the claw and the vine on her shoulder glaring back at me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
KADEN
I was in the middle of ruins.
Turning my head. Listening.