“Isn’t this brilliant?”Wynn gushes through purple-stained lips, three empty glasses of mulled wine on the barrel next to her.
I’m only on my second, and my face already feels fuzzy and warm. If only the heat would spread to my extremities. My fingers and toes are frozen solid. “It really is amazing.”
Everything in the human realm is so different. There isn’t one tower in sight; the few clouds hanging in the sky seem so far away; the stars are nothing more than flickering specks. Even the air feels thicker, more fragrant, filled with the savory scent of smoke and roasted meat. But there is sweetness as well. The heady taste of the unknown.
Two young men I recognize from the portal link arms, spinning around next to a bunch of humans. My laugh floats away like a white cloud. So much joy and abandon. Is it always like this down here, or do they only have this much fun on Samhain?
Wynn sighs, her head falling to my right shoulder. “I will dream of this night for the rest of my life. Thank you so much for bringing me with you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Are you happy?” Senan murmurs against the shell of my other ear, sending a delicious chill down my spine.
“Blissfully so.” The only thing that would make this night better would be if it never ended. “Are you?”
“No, I’m miserable,” he says with a wink, cupping my hands between his and bringing them to his mouth so he can puff warm air against them. I touch my frigid fingertips to his lips, tracing his smile, committing to memory each crease.
What if he falls in love with his princess? Will he come back to me as he promised, or will the key he gave me turn rusty from disuse? Will he give her pieces of himself that he has never given me?
So many questions I’ll never ask because I’m certain I won’t survive the answers.
The serving woman returns with more wine, dragging me out of my darkening thoughts. Senan asks if we’d like another. The closer we get to the end of this three-hour window, the tighter hopelessness grips my chest. I don’t want to ruin what remains of the night by drinking myself into oblivion, so I decline.
Senan buys one for Wynn and himself. After a few sips, he abandons the glass next to the collection of empty ones on the barrel beside us. Then he turns to me and holds out his hand. “Dance with me, Allette.”
How many times have I dreamed of dancing with this prince at a grand ball in the castle or one of their famous masquerades? Even if my aunt and I received an invitation to the castle, I wouldn’t have a hope of getting near Senan, let alone dancing with him.
In Kumulus, princes don’t dance with the daughters of lowly lords.
This may not be a ballroom, but the masked musicians filling the square with a lively reel and all the plain dresses swirling and boisterous laughter makes tonight feel even more magical.
Nervous butterflies take flight in my stomach. “I’d love to but don’t know the steps.” I took a few dancing lessons at the academy but must admit to not being the most studious of pupils.
The right side of his mouth lifts a little higher. “Then we’ll figure them out together.”
How can I argue with that? My hand slips into his, and I let him lead me to an empty spot on the dance floor made of cobblestones and dreams.
Senan’s smile falters when he glances over my shoulder. His guard looms at my back, scowling at the prince from behind his red mask.
Senan swats his shoulder. “You’ll have to wait your turn, you big brute.”
The guard rolls his eyes but returns to the bench to sit next to a grinning Wynn. I’m about to suggest that he should ask my friend to dance when Senan spins me into the fray. We stumble and step on each other’s toes far too many times, but the pain in my feet is nothing compared to the ache in my sides from laughing when Senan decides halfway through the song that I should be the one leading and twirling and dipping him.
By the time the reel ends, I’m breathless and in desperate need of a drink. Senan hands me his glass, and I drain the lot.
Then he offers the guard his hand. The man glares as if it is a serpent.
“Come on.” Senan flutters his fingers. “You know you want to.”
“I’d rather cut out my own eyes,” the guard mutters.
With a smirk, Senan takes two steps to the right and asks Wynn to dance.
“You want to dance with me?” she gasps, clutching her skirts with white knuckles.
“If you’ll allow it,” he says with a courtly bow.
I love him even more for the way he treats her: not as if she is beneath him but as though she is someone worthy of his time. If only other Scathians felt the same. When a handful of my classmates back at school found out I’d befriended a maid, they’d stopped speaking to me altogether.