had been just as interesting; he had shown her how to pick up something, get its balance to know how to throw it and get it aimed, more or less, at a target. 'Even if you don't hit someone trying to hurt you, you'll make him duck. If he's ducking, he's not grabbing for you, he's not chasing you, and he's not firing a hand-crossbow at you.'
She was drilling herself in that now, to see everything as a potential weapon. It was going to take some getting used to, and she still had to remind herself to do so. It seemed for Siegfried it was automatic.
And she was also enjoying the quiet moments of conversation that occurred between them. Though they were surrounded by others — and often ended up sweaty and bruised — there was a tenderness and a wistfulness to Siegfried's glances that made Rosa linger after the lessons were officially over. Siegfried's stories about his home and his travels were so very different from hers, and his wry comments were both amusing and insightful.
'Between the two of us, Princess, you did Joffrey a favor by eliminating him. He has been looking for an excuse to do badly,' he had said once.
'How do you know?' Rosa had asked.
He had looked her in the eye. 'Because there isn't a man born who will admit he had to ask for directions unless he really doesn't want to be where he is supposed to be going. And Joffrey did. Three times.'
The ballroom seemed empty now, with only ten suitors left — though of course, all her ladies in waiting and courtiers were still there, and still mingling with the remaining Princes. Things were going back to normal, insofar as they could be normal with the trials still on and the anticipation for the end building.
Three of the five 'neighbors' were still in the running. She really did not want any of them to win. She really didn't want Leopold to win. That left six. Karl had been eliminated early on at the dragon trial. Not even his father was willing to protest that one. Not when he had tried to charge Sharpstone in defiance of the rules and had been picked up and dumped on his own doorstep by the dragon, in full possession of not only his own curse but several more. Siegfried; a semischolar named Henzel who had done surprisingly well even in the contests that required strength; Caspar, who was almost old enough to be her father; Klaus, who approached every thing in terms of strategy; Andret, who was here mostly to test himself; and Desmond.
As if the thought had summoned him, Desmond appeared at her side, moving fluidly away from a knot of admirers and giving her a little bow as soon as he saw she had seen him. 'Good evening, Desmond,' she said, smiling. 'And what is the speculation about the next contest?'
'Most of us favor something spectacular — riding up a mountain of glass to fetch a golden apple, or something of the sort,' he replied, with a charming lift of one corner of his mouth. 'I was inclined to agree. With so much of the competition eliminated, it is a good time to — '
' — give my people something to watch and marvel over?' she asked.
' — I would have said, give them the sort of thing that tales are made of. This will be something that will be talked about for a hundred years, probably more.' He raised an elegant eyebrow. 'The tale will probably travel far, far beyond the six Kingdoms here, as your failed suitors return to their own lands, and probably exaggerate their own standings.' His mouth quirked a little, in an ever-so-slightly-superior smile. 'I would imagine every one of them will recount how he was in second place and only edged out by the winner at the last moment by some tactic either dubious or fiendishly clever.'
Rosa waited for him to add something to that, and was a little disappointed. She knew that Leopold would have concluded with a crooked smile and 'I know I will,' and they both would have laughed. And Siegfried would have said something like 'Everyone is the hero of his own saga,' with a self-deprecating shrug and a chuckle. If Desmond had a defect, it was that he didn't seem to find anything funny. Ironic, yes, or sarcastic. Not funny.
Part of the reason that the ballroom seemed so empty was that there was enough floor space for large open areas to form. Now that there was room to move in here again, the majordomo had brought evening entertainment back — not actually holding formal balls, but rather, evening gatherings with a small group of musicians, so that those who wished to could dance, and those that wished to merely watch and gossip could do that without musicians or talkers drowning each other out. The group of musicians that had been playing at the 'dancing end' of the long room quietly struck up the chords to signal dancing was going to begin.
If there was one thing Rosa loved, it was dancing. And Desmond almost made up for his lack of humor with his ability to dance. He didn't ask her if she wanted to; he simply smiled and swung her into the first steps of the extremely lively dance called 'Rupert Calantry.'
Normally, the first dances of the evening were extremely energetic, and tonight was no exception. Desmond had to relinquish her to another partner for four more dances; Siegfried didn't know these dances and Leopold was at the gaming tables, and the other three suitors weren't quick enough to beat out Desmond. And then, right in the middle of a lively gigue, she found herself swung out of the door to the garden and into the shadows of some ornamental trees where Desmond swung her around and into his embrace, looked down into her eyes for a moment, then kissed her.
She closed her eyes and waited for...something to happen.
And nothing did.
It was pleasant. He was a little more forceful than she would have liked, but when she pulled back a little so did he. But...it was nothing more than pleasant; no spark, no excitement, just mild curiosity.
And...somewhere inside, a little disappointment that none of that was there.
Desmond reacted immediately to her lack of enthusiasm, smiling and releasing her. 'Pardon, Princess, but you are so lovely and so adorable, I could not help myself.' There was a flash of — some thing — in his eyes, but it passed before she could identify what it was.
'There's nothing to forgive,' she replied, and he took her arm like the perfect gentleman, as if nothing had happened except that they had come outside for a breath of air.
Nothing, except that faint feeling of disappointment, and the growing feeling that there was something odd about Desmond.
'That's it,' Jimson said suddenly, breaking Lily out of her trance. 'That's it. The last trial. The contest will be to find a way to protect Eltaria permanently.' He chuckled cruelly. 'Our three 'neighbors' won't have a chance, since their solutions — which will probably consist of 'marry me' — will be unacceptable. The others will all be working on theirs for some time, I expect.'
Lily dried her eyes and looked up. 'Jimson, that is a very, very good idea. And it's the perfect trial. The young
