Chapter 53 - The Dance

AYLETH

Man after noble man, waltz, after waltz, Ayleth smiled and nodded through stilted conversations, barely veiled political offerings, and simpering compliments.

She rolled her eyes whenever they weren't looking. She hated all of it. And yet, she forced the pretty smile and made the same jokes over and over again for an eternity—anything, if it kept her mother from asking pointed questions, and the Advisors from trying to force her hand. With Falek's decision still undetermined, and rising talk of bad feeling against the Summitrans for Etan's "weak" win against Dugg, Ayleth would do anything to keep eyes off of Etan and on herself for the entire night.

Eight dances in she was hot and tired. As soon as the waltz ended no less than five different lords started for her. She turned her back and stalked off the floor to return to her seat at the table. If any of them pressed before she got there, she'd claim she needed a drink. And truly, she did, if only for a moment to herself.

But she should have known. As soon as she sank into the chair, her mother turned from a conversation with one of her Ladies.

"Are you alright, Ayleth?" she asked quietly.

"I'm fine. I just wanted a drink and a moment to sit. My feet will be sore by the end of the night."

Her mother nodded, but watched her closely. Trayn had followed her and stood just behind her, also watching. Ayleth felt like she was living in a fishbowl. And tonight, she had to stay in it. There would be no sneaking off to bed after everyone got drunk. She was the guest of honor. She was here until the end.

It made her shoulders slump.

"Lord Trystan seems nice," Trayn said carefully.

"He is." Ayleth genuinely agreed. "We will dance again later. He is a sweet man, and thoughtful."

"His smile brightens when he looks at you."

Ayleth's eyebrows rose. "I don't know about that. We barely know each other."

"Ah, finally, the name of an admirer," her mother said with a smile. "I'll have to start paying Trayn to tell me what she knows since you don't seem to want to speak of men, Ayleth."

"It isn't that, Mother," she said. "I am still meeting them all, still finding my feet. When one catches my eye, I'll tell you."

She prayed her mother didn't notice how Trayn stiffened when she said that.

Over time their conversation moved to other things—the fashions they were seeing for the first time from some of the other Kingdoms. The new horse Trayn was purchasing from the Andaluve. Her mother's boredom with the other Queens who all seemed to be either wilting flowers, or full of bloodlust.

"Whatever happened to women who took an interest in politics but were not ruled by them?" her mother grumbled. "I think, perhaps, many of the Kings have stopped sharing their Queen's beds. That's the problem."

Trayn squeaked and Ayleth colored. She'd forgotten how most other parents didn't speak as openly as her mother.

Ayleth knew she should return to the hall floor, and the dancing, but she found it very difficult to become excited about yet another dozen turns around the floor, listening to young Lords boast, or ignoring how they tried to stare down her dress.

But then, at her mother's urging, as she forced herself to get to her feet and link arms with Trayne, Lord Trystan appeared even before she'd woven between the tables to get to the dance floor.

She returned his smile and he stepped in close.

"This song is nearly over. Would you consider staying here to speak with me until it ends, then I might ask you to dance for the next one?" he said with a flashing smile and a wink at Trayn.

"I think that would be lovely," Ayleth said. "But you'll have to stay there to hide me from the eyes on the floor—there is rather a lot of them." She leaned around him to pretend she was afraid, but instead caught sight of Etan, standing only six tables away, his shoulders broad and flat, glaring. He must have run his hand through his hair because some of it had fallen from its slick and scattered across his forehead.

She blinked and prayed he felt the heat that rose within her when their eyes met.

His expression didn't change, and he didn't move, but he also didn't drop her gaze.

Then she realized, she needed to straighten, to continue her conversation with Lord Trystan. And she did, quickly, but it was too late.

Trystan had already followed the line of her gaze and caught sight of Etan too.

His mouth flattened.