by Cheree Alsop
I didn’t know how to respond. I could still feel her kiss on my lips; her scent of meadow gold and vanilla filled my nose. I wanted to kiss her again, but didn’t know how to start. She smiled at Vielkeep spread below, then turned away. “Joven was furious, as you probably remember. He thought I was crazy.”
“You are,” I said.
She let out a soft, musical laugh that turned my insides to liquid. “I suppose you’re right.” She glanced at me, her eyes partially hidden behind her lowered lashes. “I’m trusting my safety to a fearsome beast.”
“A dangerous course of action, to be sure,” I agreed. I took a step closer to close the space between us.
She tipped her head up and whispered against my lips, “To be sure,” then kissed me again.
This time when she stepped away, I kept myself from following her. She paused by the door and looked back at me with a tenderness that hadn’t been there before. “Goodnight, Victus.”
“Goodnight, my lady,” I replied.
She disappeared into her room and I listened to the swoosh of her blankets as she settled beneath them. It was a long time before my pounding heart slowed enough for me to rest; my mind kept awakening to the taste of her kiss and the touch of her fingers on my clenched fist.
***
Koya’s eyes sought mine when I stepped into the swirling chaos of the Gathering Ball. Hundreds of couples dressed in every color swirled and danced across the floor. A million scents, both foreign and familiar, assailed my nose.
“Ambassador Victus Tramarius of Danth,” the Royal Announcer called in a voice that rang out over the assembly. Dancing stilled and silence filled the room. The Announcer’s eyes met mine with curiosity before he bowed and put a fist to the red rose on the shoulder of his black robe. “His Lordship Andrus Joveth Remalian Vielslayer.”
The entire assembly bowed low to Joven, their fists held to their hearts in respect. I noted several who didn’t stoop quite as low, and these sought the eyes of others across the room. I wished I knew enough about human expressions to read the feelings their looks conveyed, but they seemed calculating to me, snide.
I felt on edge as Joven and I stepped down the four shallow stairs to the ballroom floor. Joven was immediately engulfed by a crowd of well-wishers and curious spectators who asked for introductions to the new ambassador. Fortunately, I was able to ignore them entirely with only a bow here and there because of my alleged lack of understanding for the language.
By the time we made it to Koya’s side, I felt like a beast in a cage again, gawked at by the audience. The long-sleeved white shirt felt as though it was choking me, and my feet already ached within the confines of Joven’s shoes. I resisted the urge to loosen the black cravat Joven had demanded I wear. Laughter showed in Koya’s eyes at my discomfort, but the glow on her face and the slight touch of red to her cheeks softened the effects and warmed my heart.
It was enough to be near her again. Her scent brought back the warmth of her lips on mine; she was watching me. My heart slowed when I met her eyes. Every sense was heightened this close to her. Koya wore a regal dark blue velvet dress that brushed the floor with the sound of a leaf landing on grass. Her breath released soft and warm and her heartbeat quickened when our gaze held.
A voice spoke next to her and she turned her head reluctantly. Her words were kind and sincere, her voice round and full like the call of a meadowlark across an early morning dewy clearing. She tipped her head forward in a nod of respect to one of a lower station, and her eyes met mine again, inquisitive and happy, dancing like a brook at midday.
“I told you this wouldn’t be hard,” Joven said in a quiet, light tone from my right side. I glanced at him, having forgotten his presence entirely. “As long as you don’t talk, or howl, we should be fine and Koya will be safe with her ferocious guard at her side.”
I felt his lighthearted words about my animal nature like a barb. He wasn’t cruel, and he didn’t mean to antagonize me, but when I was this near to Koya it was hard to remember that I didn’t belong next to her. The thought was confusing and painful.
A man in a white suit with a red flower on his lapel bowed low to Koya. He smelled of corn, wood smoke, and oil. There were lines under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept well. I wondered if his journey to Vielkeep had been a pleasant one. “You always look radiant, Lady Vielslayer.”
Koya nodded with a smile. “Please, Lord Brayton. You must save your flattery for those deserving of it.”
He grinned and anger rose in my chest. The emotion surprised me. I studied him closely, wondering what had set off such a reaction. He smelled normal, if a bit road-worn. His clothes were pressed and his manner acceptable according to Joven’s quick course on the matter. Yet the way he looked at Koya so familiarly set my teeth on edge. “You are always deserving of it. I would tell your mother the Duchess of my gratitude that you received such beauty from her, but her attentions, as you know, are elsewhere.”
I followed his gaze to Duchess Ramielle. The man was right. In a room crowded with barely more than shoulder space for dancing and conversing, the Duchess was surveying the lay of the drapes and commanding two haggard-looking servants in the placement of a cloth beneath a chair on the raised dais. She looked completely oblivious to the commotion around her, lost in the room decorations instead of the people she decorated for.
Koya lowered her eyes, a touch of red to her cheeks. “I apologize, Lord Brayton. My mother has . . . great attention to detail when it comes to the Gathering Ball.”
He lowered his voice. “Don’t trouble yourself, my lady. Your worries don’t always have to be your own to deal with in silence. There are ways of alleviating such concerns.” He lifted his voice and held out a white-gloved hand. “On a lighter note, may I have the honor of a dance?”
She gave a sigh that was almost silent and smiled at him graciously. She slipped her hand into his and he led her onto the floor. I paced along the wall, anxious to keep them in view at all times. It was difficult amid the swirl of reds, purples, golds, and greens that swept together and brushed apart as though the wind played about them in its intricate dance. I heard Koya’s laughter clearly above the din of the room and pushed down the urge to bare my teeth.
The scent of cedar touched my nose. “Fun party, wouldn’t you say?” Joven asked. “I, for one, find such crowds intoxicating. It’s as if everyone is determined to live each second to its fullest. It’s a rare moment in the course of many lifetimes, so must I assume by the waistlines of many here.” He cleared his throat and spoke with a smile in his voice. “And here comes one such couple to emphasize my point. I do love it when that happens.”
I fought back a grimace and turned the concealing eyes of a wolf on the rotund man and woman who stopped near Joven and gave him uncomfortable bows of respect.
“My, are you sure he’s safe to be around? He looks dangerous,” the woman said; a fake quaver touched her tone and she put a hand to her lips in a practiced look of horror.
The man gave me an appraising look as if he was judging the quality of a horse. “I should say the Danthians would prove excellent laborers if they are all built like this one. Perhaps we can come to an agreement. Trade men for sheep or honey. We would each come out on top.”
A hint of disgust wafted from Joven and I got the feeling he, too, was concealing a snarl. “Slave labor, Duke Farington?” Joven’s tone turned it into a joke; the Duke laughed in response as if he, too, had been joking, but his suggestion had been a serious one. The thought of an entire kingdom enslaved by the plump Duke for menial labor put a sour edge on my impression of the man. Joven continued, “I think perhaps it should be the other way around. Give them Sunhold and see for yourself what lies beyond the watery horizon.”
The Duke chuckled, but his wife sniffed in dismay and touched a small white square of cloth to her nose. They turned away to leave us both fuming.
“I may not have chosen wise words in light of the fact that they are one of our few remainin
g allies,” Joven said under his breath, “But I would prefer to have friends with actual values and morals.” He glanced at me with an apologetic look. “Koya may have freed you from that cage out of pity, but I think we’ve all learned that bonds can be made of so much more than bars or chains.”
I nodded, my eyes on Koya as the music ended and a gentleman in a black waistcoat and dark blue pants swept in to ask her hand for the next number. She accepted with a forced smile and was carried away again to a tune played by stringed instruments and a curious wooden pipe with holes down both sides. Their dance took them apart then together again as couples swirled in lively steps. Koya laughed at something the man said and anger swelled in my chest again. I fought back a growl of frustration and turned my attention to the servants.
Hundreds of men and women in Vielkeep’s red and black slipped from doors cunningly concealed behind tapestries. They carried trays of food that smelled of fish and cow, deer and pig. Plates were laden with enough pastries and honey-laced fruit drinks to feed three duchies. Gathering Ball guests accepted the morsels as though the people who served them were invisible, and the servants acted as though that was completely normal. In my life with the circus, I was used to being gawked at, not ignored as though I didn’t exist. I wondered what it felt like to be looked through as part of the furniture. It didn’t seem right to me, and I wondered why no one did anything about it.
The servants loaded four long tables at one end of the ballroom with heaps of food; candied apples, roots covered in cinnamon butter, leafy greens dressed with a scent tart enough to sting my nose, a roasted, tusked boar whose skin was golden brown and glazed with honey and clove, mounds of cherries, orange and yellow citrus fruit, slices of turkey and marinated fish speckled with parsley and mint, baked pheasant, and rounds of cheeses aged until their scent came sharp and pungent enough to make my mouth water.
Another table was dedicated to desserts, a dark cake with chocolate icing, small squares that smelled of the same chocolate but were frosted with honey and a thick tawny-colored sauce, white powdered circles that smelled of the fruit that had been baked in the middle, a tray of delicately crafted candies shaped like the flags of each duchy, tiny animals spun from fragile, colorful sugars, and a big bowl of deep purple punch with a smell that was tart and pleasant at the same time, coloring the air with the promise of berries, summer, and a bite of snow-fed streams from the high mountains.
Several guests were already partaking of the dessert table, Duke Farington and his wife included. Both shot glances at where Koya now danced with a burly man in a sea green suit and a purple shirt. He would have looked ridiculous if everyone around him wasn’t dressed in similarly bright colors. It seemed as if Joven’s clothing choices fit right into the normal social standards. I wondered if he wore them because he liked them or because he wanted to fit in.
Something about the man caught my attention. He danced with Koya on feet lighter than I would have guessed possible for his tall stature. His black hair was slicked back with grease that gave off a scent of mint and lard as I drew near. He held one of Koya’s hands in his own and his other rested at her waist, a liberty which none of the other dancers had taken thus far.
At first glance his grip on her hand appeared casual, but closer observation showed her fingers to be white with the pressure. The look on her face was one of careful calm, but as I neared the dessert table by which they danced, I could smell a hint of frustration and anger wafting amid her meadow gold and vanilla.
“Lord Vesut is taking liberties,” the rotund lord of Sunhold said in a low voice to his wife as they sampled the powdered circles. He wiped his fingers on a servant’s sleeve and moved to the chocolate cake. “I’m surprised Lord Vielslayer hasn’t taken him aside. It’s as if Vesut is claiming her as his wife already. He should show a little more decorum.” He licked off a brown finger and gave a sniff of disdain. “Tell the cook his icing could use more cream,” he said in a haughty tone to a servant setting out tiny plates of chilled lime pulp.
The poor servant nodded and hurried back to the kitchen with a look in her eyes I understood. Her words wouldn’t be well received and she might suffer a punishment because of the careless orders of one overly-confident, portly individual with a wife who now had chocolate frosting in her perfectly styled hair. I took a step after the servant with the thought of alleviating her punishment if possible, but a sharp voice caught my attention.
“Lord Vesut, you go too far,” Koya said in a tone I had never heard before. She kept her words quiet so as not to be overheard, but the edge of warning made my chest tighten.
The burly lord laughed off her request and pulled her closer to him so that they danced nearer than any other couple on the floor. Several glances were shared by those dancing around them and I smelled scents of surprise and consternation. Adrenaline began to pump through my veins. The lord would not let Koya go even though she now pushed against him with both hands. He merely chuckled and spun closer to the dessert table.
When they neared me, I grabbed his shoulder in one hand and reached across his body to his far wrist. I jerked down, breaking Koya from his grasp.
“What do you think you’re-”
I grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the dessert table. It crashed to the ground under his weight. The bowl of purple punch flew up and landed on his chest, spilling sugary syrup across his sea green suit. Heat ran beneath my skin with a rage that threatened to overcome my self-control. The instincts of the wolf to protect those I cared about burned with red anger and clouded everything but the man who hurt Koya. I tightened my hold on his neck until I felt his breath rattle beneath my palm.
“Don’t. . .touch. . .her. . .again,” I growled in a voice that made the Lord soil his pants. At the revolting scent, contempt for the coward surged through my veins and I tightened my grip.
“Victus.” Joven’s voice was quiet, but carried an underlying tone of urgency.
I forced myself to look up. Joven watched me from across the table, his gaze one of agreement, not condemnation. He didn’t say anything, he merely tipped his head in the wolf-like gesture he had picked up from me. I followed his eyes to the horrified crowd that gathered around us far enough away so that they wouldn’t get punch on their fine suits and dresses. The looks of fear and surprise let me know the enormity of the social blunder I had made. Those that met my gaze looked away out of panic that they would be next. I had seen the same look many times from behind cage bars.
I removed my hand from Lord Vesut’s throat. His skin was purple and angry; my finger marks stood out stark white in contrast. I stepped back and glanced at Koya. Her face was pale and her fingers were knotted tightly together. The gentleman in white from earlier, Lord Brayton, held a reassuring hand on her back. His brows creased together for a moment, then he gave a short laugh that seemed far out of place given the situation. “Where can I get a bodyguard like that?” he asked loudly.
Several members of the audience chuckled, breaking the heavy tension in the room. Four servants rushed forward and helped Lord Vesut to his feet. He didn’t look back at me as he stormed out of the ballroom to leave an unpleasant scent of fear, anger, and refuse in his wake. More servants brought in another table and, moving with amazing efficiency, moved what desserts could be salvaged onto the new table and carried away what had been spoiled.
“I must say,” Lord Brayton continued, “If all Danthians are as fiery as Ambassador Tramarius, we’re better off having them as allies instead of enemies.”
Several more chuckles followed and the crowd started to disperse. At Joven’s motion, the orchestra struck up a hearty tune; people joined hands for a circular dance.
I looked at Koya again, but she refused to meet my eyes.
“Would you care for a refreshing beverage?” Lord Brayton asked her quietly. “I hear we’ll have the pleasant experience of sampling the cook’s new batch.”
She nodded; he slipped her arm in his and led her to peruse the o
ther tables while the dessert one was put back in order.
Joven met the eyes of a few lingering onlookers and they turned away. “Let’s catch some fresh air,” he said quietly. I glanced back at Koya, but he shook his head. “She’ll be fine with Brayton for a few minutes.” He turned and left me to follow.
People moved out of our way as we walked to the main doors. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the fear in their eyes when they looked at me. I felt anxious and suffocated within the walls of the castle. There were too many people, and the scent of excitement and panic resulting from my brief encounter with Vesut lingered heavily in the air. We couldn’t get outside quickly enough to suit me. I held my breath and walked faster, leaving Joven to excuse our presence from the assembly.
The steward held open the front door with a black-gloved hand and I stepped out into the cool night air. Horses harnessed to carriages from the nobility in the Vielkeep duchy filled the air with the quiet commotion of restless hooves on cobblestone, teeth grinding bits, and the soft rub of metal against leather. Faithful servants waited nearby for their royal families to appear. I walked along the edge of the castle toward the gardens. The familiar sound of Joven’s footsteps followed me.
I grabbed a sprig of pine from a small evergreen and crushed the needles between my fingers as I walked. The sharp smell brought back memories of the forest and calmed my racing heart. I put a pine needle in my mouth and bit it with my front teeth. The strong flavor chased the bitter taste of adrenaline from my tongue.
I couldn’t get Koya’s expression out of my mind. She was worried, which made sense given the situation, but something else showed in her eyes, an emotion I hadn’t seen before. Was it regret for allowing me to be her protector, or fear because she saw that I wasn’t in full control of my wolf instincts? Did I frighten her?
That thought scared me most of all. My heart ached with remorse. I hadn’t acted appropriately, but I didn’t know what one should do to protect others in that type of a social situation. I let the wolf dictate my course of action. Wolves didn’t second-guess their decisions. They accepted what happened as a result of their actions and moved on. Each experience was a lesson to a wolf, but I feared the lesson I learned may have done more damage than bruising Vesut’s throat. I didn’t care how the crowd saw me. I only cared about Koya.
