“What’s your name?” Ryan asked, feeling a firm grip nearly crush his hand.
“Nola, the Fair Raven,” she replied, her dusky voice stirring him. Her mysterious dark eyes lent weight to her nickname.
“You are strong,” he appraised her, “and yet gentle.”
“As are you, Lord of Hearts,” she purred. “It is no wonder women throw themselves at you.”
“I’m a good catch,” he replied, but her blank look indicated the joke fell flat, so he moved on. “How did you develop such a physique?”
“Swinging swords at men who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Then I guess I had better be civil.”
“I’m sure my skill is nowhere near yours, Pride of Andor,” she reassured him, “so you needn’t worry. I would be grateful for the chance to cross swords with you, if only in jest, of course.” She pressed against him suggestively, her bosom pushing up more in her low-cut gown, but even that couldn’t take his mind from his conscience. The thought of pretend violence made him frown.
“I’m afraid time is short for swordplay,” he replied quietly, “as I leave first thing in the morning.”
Nola asked, “Are you headed straight to the castle?”
He paused before replying. “Yes,” he answered, having remembered the side trip to Arundell with Lorian was a secret. “I don’t know of anywhere else we’d want to go.”
“Aren’t you traveling with the elves?”
The accuracy of the question startled him. How did she know that? From her slight smirk, he suspected his expression, whatever it was, had answered for him, but he tried to lie anyway. “Uh, no,” Ryan said lamely. “Why would you think that?”
She smiled. “My mistake. I saw you dining with them. I guess a big strong man like you doesn’t need help from a bunch of scrawny elves to kill the dragon. You’re the Dragon Slayer after all.”
He looked down and away. Why did everyone have to remind him of the expectation to kill over and over? His thoughts strayed to Daniel back home, the loss of his smartphone and any way to use it a gnawing worry. He had to get back. He needed to quit dancing now and go blurt the truth out to Sonneri. Maybe Lorian was wrong and they could go home now anyway.
“Why the long face?” Nola asked quietly, breaking his thoughts. She seemed sympathetic and he realized he’d dropped his guard. “Does something trouble you, Korrin?”
Their eyes met and the kind look in hers disarmed him. He couldn’t really tell her the truth, but did he have to pretend he wasn’t upset? Did it matter? He shrugged noncommittally. “It’s nothing.”
She pressed against him more, as if offering herself as consolation. “If it dampens your spirit despite all these ladies pursuing you, then it must surely be something. Would you prefer to discuss it in private? I have a suite to myself here in the castle and you can unburden your noble heart to me.” Her hand stroked his hair tenderly and she laid a sweet kiss on his cheek. Sudden, turbulent emotion welled up with him, threatening his self-control.
“You’re very kind,” he started huskily, intending to regretfully decline, but she interrupted.
“I’ve only just begun to show you kindness, Korrin,” she replied gently, and with that she whispered sweet, compassionate words in his ear and leaned into him. It seemed that all his life he’d kept his torments to himself, for in those few moments when someone saw his angst, he’d kept quiet like so many men so often do. Culture demanded men deal with pain alone, but her embrace promised a release he increasingly felt unable to restrain. His guard fell. Even Anna, for all their friendship, hadn’t gotten past his defenses, but he felt himself falling into this stranger’s care. As the dance ended, she led him from the floor, past the guards and away, and he went readily if not eagerly.
Out on the dance floor, Eric struggled to keep his wits about him. Naughty thoughts raced through his mind every half second, in no small part because women put them there. Andier might be the Silver-Tongued Rogue, but now Eric was either tongue tied or it was hanging out of his mouth, figuratively speaking. It had been too long since he’d been with a woman and the desire they aroused was strong. It was all he could do to tear his eyes away to keep tabs on his friends, and this time he didn’t see Ryan. His eyes searched again, less discreetly, and finally he dropped all pretenses on realizing the big man was gone. He caught Matt’s gaze and moved his fingers behind his dance partner.
Did you see Ryan leave?
Matt put his wine glass down. No. He’s gone?
Yes. Eric figured Anna was too distracted to have noticed and Lorian was too embroiled in conversation. The guards, he realized. They ought to have noticed.
He excused himself and sought one at the entrance. The young man snapped to attention. “Did Lord Korrin leave this way?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Eric hadn’t expected the title. Only Ryan had gotten that so far. “When?”
“Just a few minutes ago.”
“Where did he go?”
Looking apologetic, the guard answered, “He did not say, but he was headed toward the Blue Crest Wing.”
“Was he alone?”
“No, my Lord. He escorted Nola of Ormund, presumably to her, uh…” He faltered, looking pained.
“Her suite?” Eric finished.
The guard pursed his lips. “Yes, my lord.”
“Where is that?”
“I’m not sure, sir, but probably in the second level of the Blue Crest, directly down this hallway.” He gestured and Eric took off at a jog, worried and wondering what Ryan thought he was doing. It didn’t occur to him that he’d allowed himself to be separated from the group as well, but someone else in the Great Hall noticed.
Watching Eric leave, Cirion excused himself from a different young lady who’d just been flirting with Andier at his direction. Like all the others, she didn’t have anything interesting to relate about the
