T he great hall was blazing.
The feathers of my fan fought against the muggy air of too many
bodies packed in one space. I scratched my damp cheek beneath the black mask over my upper face. A dainty thing made of black and silver lace with raven feathers splayed out over the brow.
“Do not let me drink like last night, Liv. It doesn’t agree with me.” Mira lifted the golden mask and tipped a flute of sweet cherry wine to her painted lips. She winced against the burn.
I chuckled and took the horn from her hands. “You sweet, little thing.
Shall I get you some milk instead?”
Lips pinched, fighting a grin, she elbowed me, then faced the ebb and flow of couples in the ballroom. Ladies of the various courts donned vibrant gowns of all colors—midnight blues, silver and gold, moss green trimmed in black, and rich burgundy like the sweetest plums.
Men wore groomed furs on their shoulders, or tunics made of soft linens and wool. They boasted blades of all sizes on their polished belts. Some preferred axes like my father, others a powerful seax, but most came prepared to dance the night away by keeping only simple daggers at the ready.
The festival was rife with sweetness. Pomes dipped in thick sugar sauce. Glazes over honey rolls, cakes stuffed full of sweet berries, or cream, or tart syrups. Pheasants roasted over racks in the cooking rooms down the corridors. Savory hints of rosemary and sea salt perfumed the sweat in the great hall. Sweet wines, sharp liqueurs, or foamy drinks were kept on a constant flow.
Lanterns flickered over the gray stone floor from tallow candles in the silver cages, and a layer of glimmer powders over the floor made the entire hall appear to be made of gold.
Masks shielded faces, some more than others, but I could recognize the faces that mattered most.
Near a banquet table, Aleksi stood with more than one Rave and even more ladies seeking the warmth of a warrior for the night. Sander sat ten paces from us with a drinking horn and more than one written trade agreement from his realms in hand. His mask was askew on his face, and he hardly seemed to realize he was here to have fun.
Jonas, as expected, was nowhere to be found.
“Last I saw of the rake, he had a lady with a goat mask on his arm heading for the gardens,” Mira told me when I pressed. She rolled her eyes and snatched the horn from my hand again.
We wouldn’t see him until the noon sun, no doubt. The bridge of my feet ached from standing in place so long. I’d taken my turn about the dancefloor, desperate to be carefree, desperate to hole away with a man for the night and discover, at last, what it felt like to be a little bold and risky.
The trouble was, for every man who’d asked for their dance, all I wondered was if they were one who’d spoken to my father.
Were they thinking of power, prestige, and nothing of me? Did they even care to know I painted windows across the whole of the castle back home in Night Folk territory?
I doubted any of the men who’d asked me to dance cared my paintings were done so when the dawn light struck, rooms burst in color, and it drew smiles from our staff and my family. Would they mind if I woke screaming from the Mare demons placing cruel images of shadows and serpents in my head? If I chose to let them kiss me, touch me, to have all of me, would they know they were the first?
I shuddered and let out a breath. Too much thinking, not enough doing. I’d promised Alek—and myself—I would forget nerves and nightmares, and I’d live tonight.
A man with curled horns like a ram’s on his mask approached. He bowed at the waist and held out a hand for Mira. “Princess—”
“Tobias,” she said with a huff. “You’re not supposed to know who I am.”
“Impossible when you light up the room with your beauty.”
She snorted and handed me her horn again. “Flattery of his daughter will not earn you a place on my father’s council. If you believe so, you do not know your own king. You must flatter my mother first, then me, but most of all, you must amuse him.”
“Hells, Mira, you think I don’t know that? King Ari doesn’t seem to find my jests amusing.” Tobias finally broke. He’d attended lessons with Mira since they were children, and the man never hid his intentions to be on the right hand of Mira’s father as a high-ranking noble.
“Such a shame.” She tapped his nose under the ram mask. “Couldn’t possibly be because he knows your game, could it? You keep trying to present like you’re a suitor for me, Tobias, yet my father and everyone knows you don’t favor women.”
“Simple solution: I’ll pretend you were born a prince.” “Ah, so you think my only choice is to vow with you?”
“With your temperament,” he said, nose in the air. “Most likely.” “I take offense to that and will be sure to let my father know.”
“You’re impossible.” Tobias closed his eyes and held out a hand. “I’ll forgive you if you dance with me, my horrid princess. Put me at ease that we’re still friends, right?”
She sighed and took his hand. “I suppose if we must.”
I laughed when they strode arm and arm, bickering, until Mira turned around, voice low. “Liv, don’t look now, but I think you might have another admirer.”
She nodded to the far side of the room. There, a man stood in the shadows, one shoulder leaning against the wall. A simple black mask hid his features from his brow to chin, only the tousled waves of his dark hair were visible.
Hair on my arms lifted. From here I couldn’t make out his eyes, but his masked face was aimed at me. Only me.
Knots tangled in the pit of my belly when the man shoved off the wall. He dragged gloved hands down his satin tunic, all black, the same as his mask. I took a step to the side. Across the hall, he mimicked my step in the same direction.
A dangerous air hovered around his shoulders. Darkness and mystery. My heart thudded fierce enough I could hear it in my head. I stepped again. My stranger did the same. Again and again, like a wolf who’d found its prey.
I didn’t recognize his stance, his stride. His aura left me wondering if he might hail from the dark corners of the Eastern realms. The thought of asking Sander faded when I took another step, putting his table in my wake.
Only a few paces away, my stranger maneuvered like an underwater dance through courtiers, never dropping his hidden gaze from me. Like my steps were chained to his, I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t turn back.
I lost my breath when all at once he was in front of me.
Tall enough I had to tilt my chin to reach his eyes. A flash of dark brown and almost . . . red, like the deepest sunset. For a long, drawn pause he held my gaze, studying me, breaking me apart, then piecing me back together.
Without a word, he reached out a hand. I prayed he wouldn’t see the way my fingers trembled, and placed my palm onto the warm leather of his gloves.
His voice was low, a rasp like a stormy wind, when he said, “Dance with me, little bird.”
I tilted my head, confused. He chuckled softly and teased some of the raven feathers on my mask.
“Oh.” Heat flooded my cheeks beneath the shield. There was something thrilling at not being addressed as princess or lady. He could be playing coy, but I liked the idea my stranger truly did not recognize me.
I tightened my grip on his hand. “I’d be honored.”
My shadow led me to the center of the hall. Once he determined we were at an appropriate place, he tugged me close. Not enough to be untoward, but enough I knew he was strong. Beneath his dark clothes his body was hard, broad, and powerful. My hands slid over his shoulders. One of his large palms settled on the small of my back.
Lyres and pan pipes played a cheery melody, and he fell into step with the tune. For several heartbeats, we said nothing, merely kept our gazes locked.
“What has changed?” he asked, sliding away from me, hand still clutching one of mine, before the music pulled us back together.
“What do you mean?”
I could not see his mouth, but his voice shifted pitch, like a smile had curved over his face. The stranger leaned close, voice soft. “I’ve watched you the entire evening. Not once have you seemed so . . . afraid of a partner.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Glad to hear it. For I hope to dance with you again. Maybe another after that, and I would hate to make you uneasy, little bird.”
Hells, he was intense. “You don’t make me uneasy. I simply can’t place who you are.”
“I could say the same about you.”
He didn’t know me. I’d wanted to be bold, daring. With a stranger who bled power and mystery, yet did not know what title burdened my blood, I could be anything.
With a deep swallow, I pressed my body a little closer. Breasts smashed against his chest. On the intake of breath beneath his mask, his fingers drifted lower to the slope of my backside.
“So, who are you, little bird?”
A rush of something dangerous hummed in my bones. “Yours, I suppose. For a little while.”
My shadow made a noise, a sound deep and throaty like a growl. He leaned his masked face near mine, the heat in his strange eyes burned in desire. “Speak more words like that, and I will need to keep you longer than a little while.”
He dragged the nose of his mask along the side of my throat. My skin prickled, my knees struggled to hold my weight. A pool of heat slid between my thighs, and I nearly gasped at the sensation. I’d felt an attraction to men since my girlish eyes found Stieg at age seven. Naturally, I was certain I’d take vows with the warrior someday. Until I met Hugo Nilsson in gentry lessons at the wise age of nine.
Then the secret pull to a boy forbidden to these lands. A pull I kept hidden even from Alek. But even more than my fleeting pull to Bloodsinger, my body craved the darkness of my new stranger.
I’d wanted a night to live in the throes of pleasure. A man with such an aura, doubtless, knew how to accomplish such a thing.
For two, then four, then a fifth dance, I clung to my stranger. Time didn’t seem to matter much. He spoke few words, mostly asked about me, but occasionally when we’d stumble, or my heel stepped on his toe, he’d try to keep in a laugh, until I tossed my head back and laughed for the both of us.
“You say you paint?” he said when the tune slowed again. “What do you paint?”
I was unaccustomed to anyone outside of my friends asking me about what interested me. My stranger had done that with every dance. In turn, I’d blurted out every light to my soul. Fishing with knives and spears instead of nets, blossoms and soft grass, and painting.
I cleared my throat. “It’s strange, but I started the habit for my younger brother’s entertainment when he was tiny, and never stopped. I paint windows with a thin gloss. When it dries and the sun hits the pane just so, it’s a little like stepping into a fairy tale.”
His fingers splayed over my spine, touching every divot. “Perhaps you might show me these window paintings someday.”
Gods, was I doing this? Mouth dry, blood racing, I pressed a clammy palm to his chest. “I-I’ve painted the fort windows in . . . in my chamber. If you’d like to see them.”
His fingers curved, digging into my hip. “Lead the way, little bird.”
Breathe. Focus. I took a step back. “Give me a moment to . . . to tell my friend where I’ve gone. She’ll fret needlessly.”
He dipped his chin. “I shall wait for you in the corridor.”
I spun away. Another scorching look from him, and I might convince myself it was too much. A stranger? Could I do this? A few steps without his nearness, and my heart convinced my mind, yes. I would never have a greater regret if I did not experience a bit more of that man’s hands.
“Mira.” I tapped her shoulder when I found her still arguing with Tobias over something frivolous only found among longtime childhood playmates. “Livie.” She gripped my arm and yanked me down. Half a head shorter,
I had to dip for her to whisper by my ear. “I cannot even see that man’s face, but he, unmistakably, wants to take a bite out of you.”
I grinned, taking her hand and squeezing. “Let us hope he does. I’m . . .
I’m taking him to my chamber. Now.”
Mira’s lips parted. “Liv, are you certain? It’s just, you haven’t—”
“I know.” I tightened my hold on her. “I want to do this, and if I don’t, I will curse myself come morning.”
She snorted. “Do this, and you might still be cursing come morning if he does not know how to conduct himself properly.”
Mira was the best friend to keep around should you need a bolster of bravery. Never one to discourage us once our minds were made up, Mira simply stood back, ready to catch us if we fell.
“I wanted you to know in case you couldn’t find me.”
“Wise. A good first step. Should you go missing, I know whose cock to cut off.”
“Gods, Mira.” Tobias groaned. “How much wine have you had?”’
She waved him away and gave me a devious grin. “Good luck, Liv. I expect every detail.”
I gave her a quick embrace and whispered as I pulled back. “Never tell Jonas.”
She snickered. “Afraid the man can smell when a woman has been bedded. He’ll just know. Prepare yourself.”
My body was ablaze in anticipation as I wove through couples until I slid into the shadows of the back corridor. I looked up and down twice. My shoulders slumped. He was gone.
“Did you think I would leave you, little bird?” Gloved fingers trailed down the back of my arm.
“For a moment I considered you thought better of doing this,” I whispered.
His laugh came out in a low rumble as he wrapped an arm around my waist, aligning my back with his front. “I swear to you, I’ve waited a long time for a moment as perfect as this.”
