by Kim Stokely
After an hour or so, the musicians begin playing and people start dancing, but I’m still stuck on the dais. It seems an eternity before the receiving line is finally done. Kyran approaches as the last couple leaves.
“Your Majesty.” He bows low. “Would you give me the honor of a dance?”
“Remember, I warned you, I’m not very good.”
He reaches his hand out to guide me off the dais. “I am.”
I can’t help but think of my friend Renee as Kyran leads me out to the floor. Renee was always reading Jane Austen novels and making me watch the movie versions. She’d have loved the lively music and the colorful gowns swishing around in the torchlight. In moments, I find out just how good a dancer Kyran is as we twirl among the other couples. When I practiced this dance with Edward, I usually wound up stepping on his toes. Maybe it’s that Kyran is so much taller than my instructor, and stronger, but I don’t step on his toes even once. In fact, Kyran seems to be lifting me off my feet so I feel as though I’m gliding instead of dancing.
I dance a fast waltz with my father next, then a slower waltz with Quinn before Kyran insists on another turn. The dancers line up and the musicians quicken their tempo. I’m relieved I practiced this reel with Edward yesterday. I won’t be able to rely on Kyran to make me look good since we switch partners throughout the dance.
Kyran bows and I curtsy. In a flash, he pulls me to his chest and we spin down the length of the floor. At the opposite end, he lets go and I skip over to a new partner. I recognize him as one of the suitors my father had brought to meet me before my coronation, but for the life of me, I can’t remember his name. We greet each other, him with a bow, me with a curtsy, then do the required steps as another couple spins down between the rows of dancers. A few moments later, we switch partners again. I’m concentrating so hard on not tripping myself or my next partner that I don’t even look up until he says my name.
“Ally.”
My heart stops at the sound of that voice. I never thought I’d hear it again.
Tegan.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Broken Laws
Everything moves in slow motion as my eyes find Tegan’s face. He takes my hand to lead me in the dance, but I stumble. His arms wrap around my waist to keep me from falling.
Am I dreaming?
No. Tegan’s familiar brown hair falls into his eyes. Something I’ve seen happen a hundred times in my memories. He leans down to whisper as we get ready to change partners. “Can we talk? Alone?”
“Meet me in the small study. Turn left at the end of the hall. Second door on the right.”
My lungs can’t seem to take a breath as my hand slips from his and into the palm of my next partner. I try to concentrate on the dance, but my eyes keep searching the crowd for another glimpse of Tegan. The dance goes on for several more minutes before Kyran sweeps me close and spins me round a final time.
His smile fades as he studies my face. “You are pale. Are you feeling well?”
“A little out of breath. There’s so many people here.”
He tugs me toward the dais. The throne, my throne, dominates the center of the platform.
I pull back. “I’m not going to sit up there, like a peacock, and watch everybody else have fun.”
“You are supposed to sit there and look superior to us all.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re acting like Geran, or my mother.”
“Really?”
I nod.
He cups my chin with his hand, his gaze holds mine. His voice is low, seductive. “And how would you prefer I act?”
I am acutely aware that everyone in the room is staring at us. Kennis. Geran. Probably Tegan. My cheeks grow warm. “Not here,” I whisper.
Kyran’s right eyebrow lifts. “No?”
I shake my head. “My father wouldn’t like it.”
He kisses my fingertips instead of my lips. “Would you like some wine?”
I don’t, but tell him I do. As he moves through the crowd to the refreshment tables, I make my way toward the entrance.
Kennis eyes me from the dance floor, but it’s Quinn’s voice I hear in my head. Where are you off to?
I’ll be back in a minute. I need some air.
Quinn whispers to Kennis. They both smile as I step out into the hall. The cooler air does feel good after the stagnant heat of the ballroom. Clusters of men stop talking and offer polite bows as I walk by them. It takes every ounce of will power I possess not to run to Tegan, but I take my time. Fortunately, when I turn the corner, the hallway is empty. I sprint the rest of the way to study.
The room is dark with a sconce on the wall offering the only light. I see him standing underneath it. He crosses the room in three long strides. Before I can ask him what he’s doing here, he kisses me.
In an instant, I forget about everything else. The dance, the wedding guests, my betrothal. There is only Tegan. We stagger together until my back presses against the wall. The hard stones dig into my shoulder blades as Tegan’s lips travel down my neck. My body explodes with heat. My skin is so hot I think we will fuse together.
And then he’s gone.
I open my eyes. No, it wasn’t a dream, he’s still here, but across the room.
He puts a hand on the wall as if to steady himself. “I’m sorry. I . . . I could not help myself.”
I swallow and try to find my voice. It comes out as a squeak. “It’s okay.”
His slight brogue sounds like music. “There’s much to tell ye.”
I wait for him to continue.
“I don’t know where to begin.”
“How about how you escaped from Braedon?”
Because of the dim light, it’s hard to read the expression on his face. “What do ye mean?”
My knees have stopped trembling for the moment, so I hazard a step closer to him. “I tried to find you. By Spirit Traveling. But I couldn’t pass through the walls of Donagh’s castle.”
Tegan lowers his chin. His hair falls across his face. “I wasn’t a prisoner. My mother and little brother were.”
“Are they okay?”
“They’re fine.”
By now, I’m standing only a foot or so from him. I finally register the fine clothes he’s wearing. Wool pants, new leather boots, a velvet tunic. “What’s happened to you?”
He won’t look me in the eye. Instead, he circles one of the arm chairs before sitting down. “After I left ye in the Elder Lands, I went home. Only there was nothin’ left.”
“I know.” I sit down opposite him. “I saw that too.”
He rests his elbows on his knees, then folds his hands in front of him. “It took me weeks to find out where Braedon had taken them.”
“To Siddu Morrigan.”
Tegan’s brown eyes finally look up. The lone flame on the wall reflects in his pupils. “It took me another week to travel there. Then to get an audience with Lord Donagh.”
In my head I’m doing the calculations. This would probably have been the week after my coronation. Does Tegan know Braedon and I aren’t going to get married? I take his hands in mine.
Tegan looks down at our entwined fingers. “I’d probably still be there now, tryin’ to barter for my family’s release, if one of the Commoners hadn’t come and insisted on our freedom.”
“I don’t understand.”
His thumbs caress the back of my hand. “Neither do I, I only know─”
The door behind us swings open, filling the room with light from the hallway. Tegan and I pull apart as if our hands had spontaneously caught fire.
Noam stands in the doorway. “Your Majesty?”
Kyran walks up behind him.
I jump to my feet. “Hi . . . uh . . . what are you doing here?”
Both men look from me, to Tegan, then back to me.
I struggle to form a coherent thought. “Um . . . Noam . . . this is . . . uh . . . Tegan. And this is Kyran.”
Noam looks as confused as I feel, while Kyran’s face i
s strangely stoic. I wait for one of the men to speak, but none of them do. In the silence, I can hear my heart hammering in my chest. I’m sure the others can hear it too. Finally, I gesture to Tegan. “I went out into the hall to get some air and saw him. I was so surprised. I didn’t know he would be here.” Kyran’s stillness intimidates me. I look to Noam. “Did you know he was here?”
“No.” Noam takes in Tegan’s clothes. “You didn’t say he’d been made a lord.”
Now it’s my turn to look between the two men. “I didn’t know.”
“It isn’t official.” Tegan stands behind me. “Until the queen signs the decree.”
“Of course I will. But I haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Lord Rafer of Olwen sponsored me. I believe he’ll present the decree when the Joint Assembly meets.”
All four of us again fall silent, until Kyran holds out his hand. “I think it best if we return to your guests, Your Majesty.”
His formality unnerves me. I reluctantly leave the comfort of Tegan’s presence for that of my betrothed’s. Kyran’s hand is cold, but firm, as we walk back to the ballroom.
“I didn’t know he was here,” I whisper. “Really.”
He manages to speak aloud without moving his lips. “Now is not the time.”
His tone reminds me too much of my mother’s reprimands. My skin prickles with annoyance. My mind immediately conjures up pictures of him groping Fenella and Julia. Like you don’t have a past.
My past is in the past. I fear yours may still be present.
Kyran stays glued to my side as we re-enter the throne room. His hand painfully squeezes my fingers together, but I say nothing.
Instead, I focus on the whirl of dancers in the center of the hall. The brightly colored and beaded skirts of the Commoners twirl like kaleidoscopes as the ladies spin with their partners. The Elders are a bit more refined. The ladies wear the traditional straight gowns with empire waists. The material, however, suggests a celebration. Along with the subdued dark blues and grays of the older women, many of the younger ladies have chosen hues of turquoise, orange, and emerald green.
Kyran leads me into the throng. He pulls me close, his left arm circling my waist and trapping me firmly against his chest. The next moment, we are caught up in the flow of the other dancers. Kyran doesn’t say anything as he leads me expertly around the floor, but the strain between us is palpable. The other couples give us a wide berth. Can they feel it too?
I glance up for a moment and can see he’s scanning the crowd around us. Looking for Tegan?
Before he has a chance to read my mind, I concentrate on keeping up with his long, graceful strides. His grip on me is possessive.
I don’t know what you’re so angry about.
He says nothing. Somehow, he bars his thoughts from me. But still, he can’t keep the anger from seeping out of his skin.
What do you want from me? An apology? My feet get twisted as I try to reason with him. His strong arm won’t let me fall. I didn’t know he would be here. If you’re mad because I went off to talk to him, I’m sorry. I wanted to find out what happened to him.
It’s as if Kyran’s put up a physical wall between us. My thoughts don’t appear to make it through to him. Instead, they bounce back into my own mind and ricochet around in my brain, giving me a headache. Once the dance is over, we stand awkwardly toward the back of the crowd. The other couples wander off the floor.
I try to pull away from him, but Kyran’s hold on me is firm.
“Let me go,” I mutter from my clenched jaw.
He doesn’t.
When I finally look up, I find him staring at me. His dark brown eyes swirling with emotion, but I can’t pick out the dominate one. Resentment? Anger? Pain? The arm that held me pinned against his body moves up my back. His hand grasps my hair, then he presses his lips to mine. When he finally pushes me away, the guests around us clap as if we we’ve been caught up with thoughts of our own impending wedding.
Kyran’s eyes pierce mine as he straightens. He finally seems ready to speak, when we are interrupted by Quinn.
“May I have the next dance?”
Kyran bows. “Of course.”
Quinn takes me into his arms but turns to speak over his shoulder. “I think my bride would like to dance with her future son-in-marriage.”
Kyran smiles, but his eye remain hard. “It would be my pleasure.”
Quinn and I spin out onto the floor. Others join us as the music swells. His grip on me is not as possessive as Kyran’s, his steps not as confident and sure, but we move gracefully along with the others. I’m convinced the beauty of my gown blinds everyone to my mistakes.
After trying so hard to hear Kyran’s thoughts, it surprises me when Quinn’s voice echoes in my head. What has happened?
Nothing.
His fingers tighten around mine. I’m now an uncle-by-marriage to you. Would you start off our new relationship with lies?
I don’t want to talk about this now, my thoughts too confused, and my emotions too raw. I want Tegan. I look for him among the dancers, forgetting that Quinn will know what I am thinking.
He twirls me in a hard circle. The boy is here? You’ve seen him?
Yes.
He spins me again. Kyran has seen him too?
I nod.
What does he want?
Kyran or Tegan?
The boy. Quinn is my height, so when he looks directly at me, we are eye-to-eye. It’s unsettling. Like he’s trying to hypnotize me.
I focus on the other dancers. Lord Rafer wants me to sign papers to make him a lord. I said I would. The news rattles Quinn. He missteps and we falter in the dance. He jerks me quickly to the side so we won’t bump into another couple, then regains his balance. I can read the worry on his face. What’s wrong?
I’d hoped Kennis and I would have a night to ourselves. One night without fear.
Now it’s my turn to lose my place in the dance. Again, Quinn pulls me out of the way of a couple.
Fear? Of what?
We must discuss these events with the others.
What events? Nothing happened.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Geran approaching. My stomach rolls from the glower on his face. He weaves his way through the dancers. Quinn and I stop moving.
My father struggles to smile. “May I speak with you two for a moment?”
Quinn and I obediently follow Geran off the floor. He leads us into an empty corner of the ballroom. Grabbing my elbow, he turns me to face him. “What is going on? The Elder Council can feel the energy of your thoughts buzzing throughout the room.”
“Nothing,” I mumble, wishing I were better at hiding my emotions.
“The boy is here,” Quinn informs him.
Geran’s brow furrows. “Boy?”
“The Commoner Alystrine loves.” Quinn answers.
“His name is Tegan.” I keep my voice low, but I want to scream.
My father pales.
The song ends. Dancers filter off the floor, some head toward our corner. Geran’s jaw is so tense, I’m surprised he can speak. “There is still the wine ceremony to complete before you and Kennis may leave.”
Quinn nods.
“Finish it. Meet us in the queen’s chambers.”
“Us?” My mind is fighting to make sense of what’s going on. “What are you talking about? This is their wedding night.”
Quinn ignores me. “I’ll find the steward.”
“Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” I whisper to Geran.
He is so focused on the plans inside his head, he doesn’t answer. I’m left to stew in silence as he meanders through the crowd, whispering to members of the Joint Assembly.
Five minutes later, my mother and Quinn each pour wine into a goblet. The Elder, Oded, chants behind them, “As grapes grow from the earth and are trampled, as their juice is aged until it becomes the gift of wine; so may your love, which has grown between you, weather the storms of life, until it be
comes a blessing to your lives and the lives of those around you.”
Kennis takes a sip first then passes the cup to Quinn. The hall erupts in applause and shouts.
Geran takes my elbow to lead me out of the hall as the guests continue to celebrate with the bride and groom. He stalks ahead of me as we make our way down the hall.
I quicken my stride to catch up with him. “I don’t understand, why are you so upset that Tegan is here?” My father doesn’t answer. His thoughts turned inward, I doubt he even hears me. “Geran? What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t slow down. “Do you not understand the danger his presence is to you?”
My brain tries to grasp onto this idea, but it is too foreign. As slippery as ice. “Danger? Tegan? Are you crazy?”
Geran mutters something, but I can’t understand him. He bounds up the stairs. The guards outside my quarters open the door as soon as they see me. Maris, Devnet, and Kyran already wait for us, as well as Rafer, Javan and Nitza. My dinner churns in my stomach. I remember now what Noam had said about being alone with another man. But would they really punish me for five minutes alone with Tegan?
Maris, Devnet and Geran talk in one corner while Javan, Rafer and Nitza sit on the chairs. Kyran stands alone by the fireplace. I want to stand by him, but something about his demeanor frightens me. I pace the room instead.
After about ten minutes, Kennis, Quinn and several other members of the Assembly arrive. Kennis crosses to me. “What have you done?”
Everyone’s watching me. My voice comes out louder than I intend, “I haven’t done anything,”
“Where did you first see him?” My father asks.
I want to lie and say in the hallway, but something stops me. I know it will sound worse if they find out the truth later. “I saw him first during the dance. He asked to speak with me somewhere quiet. I told him to meet me in the study.”
The Council groan as one. If Noam hadn’t told me the rules of decorum, I wouldn’t understand their anxiety. But they don’t know someone told me the rules. I fake innocence. “What? I just wanted to find out how his family was. With all the music and dancing in the main room, we couldn’t talk.”
