Clarysa snorted. “If you’re a man, yes.” She propped her chin in her hands. “Oh, I must sound like a spoiled brat. But riches aren’t everything, you know.”
Stellan said nothing.
“I want a life! I want to be challenged! I want something to make me think so hard my head will burst!”
Stellan chuckled despite himself. “So, you don’t care for all this fancy celebration? Or for music, or dancing?” He began to think his hasty yet arduous lessons had gone to waste.
Clarysa shrugged. “I like it well enough, I guess. But I haven’t found anybody I’d like to do it with.”
“So you’re saying it’s overrated.”
“Yes, exactly.”
Stellan nodded in response to her appreciative expression. Another moment of silence passed.
Clarysa cleared her throat. “Would you like to dance?”
“Yes.” The word was up and out of his mouth before he realized it. His stomach tightened. Now why on earth did you have to go and agree to do that? He searched his mind for any reason, any excuse, to untangle himself, but it would be extremely rude. Besides, he was here, after all, to try and make a good impression. If he endured this one dance, maybe Clarysa would facilitate a meeting with her father.
Or maybe he’d ruin everything. It wouldn’t be the first time. Stellan followed her to the great hall, dragging his feet and feeling very sorry for himself.
* * * *
The hall was far too crowded for his taste. Upon reaching the edge of the dance floor, Stellan hung back. The ever-present thought warning him against such risks gnawed its way across his mind. But Clarysa turned to face him and playfully grabbed his hand. With a fetching glance, she forcefully drew him onto the floor.
At first, he could barely bring himself to look into her face, one upturned and full of expectation. His limbs felt rigid and gangly, and his feet stomped about as if made of stone. He came close to calling the whole affair off. But Clarysa took his arm and placed it snugly about her waist. One hand landed daintily on a shoulder, and the other slipped into his barely outstretched arm. She stood about a head shorter than he, but it seemed a perfect fit. Clarysa nudged him to start moving.
The plan didn’t proceed as smoothly as it should have. They became entangled in each other’s feet as Stellan tried to imitate the moves of the other dancers. His three quick lessons before the trip were proving to be insufficient.
Clarysa giggled. “Unconventional is a good start.” But her expression turned to one of concern as she looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”
Stellan leaned toward her ear. The aromatic smell of her skin briefly distracted him, and he paused to quell a stirring ache. This soon melted into a vat of embarrassment. “I…don’t know this dance.”
“Which ones do you know?”
“Only one, actually. ‘Wind in the Willow.’”
Clarysa smiled. “I know that one! It’s certainly an old…a classic.” She glanced at the musicians. “But we’ll need a different tune.”
She raced away, leaving Stellan to awkwardly dodge a number of gyrating bodies. The music came to an abrupt halt, prompting disgruntled murmurs and numerous glares in his direction. He wished he could conjure a shrinking incantation from his magickal repertoire.
Clarysa rushed back, red-faced and breathless. “Here we go, then!” She pushed herself into his arms as the music resumed.
It was a grand, uplifting piece conveyed by gentle strings and modest horns. The couples drifted into a wide circle, spinning in place while each pair took turns in the middle showing off elaborate moves. Sometimes two couples or more pivoted about, chasing each other across the floor with laughs and challenges to whirl faster, harder. Clarysa had indicated her intention to step into the circle early on, but Stellan held her back. Not because he didn’t know the steps, but because he hadn’t expected the format to draw so much attention to individual pairs. He was content to remain on the sidelines.
But Clarysa foiled him. She yanked him toward the center, her petite figure belying such strength. Stellan gaped and nearly tripped. Thankfully, she steadied him as he bumped into her.
She shot him a wicked grin. “Let’s show them how it’s done!”
Stellan nodded. Her tone, her manner, her looks… They somehow empowered him. Tightening his grip, he swept her hard across the wide space. A rousing crescendo matched his mood.
Surprisingly, she kept up. They whipped about the floor and scattered the other couples with their enthusiasm. It was as if they had danced together a hundred times, so in tune they were with each other’s movements. Clarysa laughed and laughed. The music swelled into a thunderous wave of notes.
Stellan even forgot about the onlookers. Everything was a blur except for the lithesome woman in his arms. A woman…in my arms. He wondered at the strangeness of it all. Then he had an idea. It would be subtle, a little extra something to enhance the splendor of the dance and top off her evening. After having seen her nude, he wanted her to experience something exciting in return.
Ever so quietly, Stellan began to speak, the words of a charm issuing from between barely parted lips. As the words faded and the magick built, he swept Clarysa into a brisk spin.
But in his excitement he miscalculated. What started as a slight lift into the air became a soaring, head-turning ascent. Stellan and his partner twirled around as if birds in flight, gliding a solid six or seven feet into the air. Clarysa clung to him tightly, though she needn’t have worried, for the magick made it seem as though their feet were still on solid ground. He risked a look into her face and for a moment lost himself in her flushed, exquisite features.
After they drifted back to the floor, however, it was another story entirely. The
