She gave a dry laugh, and Ellyesce lifted a dark brow.
“We cannot afford to have Jaax and me fighting right now. I’ll be cautious around Keiron, but only because I don’t want to stir up any trouble on the eve of our departure.”
Ellyesce winced at that, then gestured for Jahrra to continue walking. Dervit, she realized, stood several feet ahead, his face pinched in impatience. The limbit was more than eager to get to the party and didn’t appreciate his friends’ dawdling.
“I’m sorry about that, too,” Ellyesce murmured as they continued along. “The idea was for you to enjoy this night without being maudlin over the fact that we’d be leaving so soon.”
Jahrra snorted, smoothing out her skirts again and trying to keep the hem from dragging in the snow. “I will still enjoy the evening, Ellyesce. I promise.”
She smiled up at him. No, she could not enjoy this night as much as she would have had she been ignorant of Jaax’s plans, but she would do her best. And Ellyesce’s sincere apology helped soothe the injury.
The long walk up to the fortress proper gave Jahrra time to clear her thoughts, and when they finally spotted the great house at the top of the mountain, they found the tall doors had been thrown open in a gesture meant to welcome all who lived in the city. Firelight, laughter and music poured through the entrance, and Jahrra unapologetically shed the last remnants of her disquiet. Instead, she trained her entire focus on the sensations unfurling before her.
The chandeliers hanging from the tall roof were ablaze with light, and all along the wraparound indoor balcony, white candles flickered in fanciful iron sconces. Revelers of all ages and class ranges, from the smallest peasant child to the elderly advisors Jahrra had seen on her first visit to this dwelling, mingled and conversed both upstairs and down. As she and her companions made their way through the grand hall and toward the larger cavernous court room at the back, she took note of those she recognized: neighbors from her street, shop owners, the soldiers she practiced with nearly every day in the sparring yard, the young men and women who cared for Phrym in the stables ... They were all dressed in their finest, clasping crystal glasses full of punch or nibbling on roasted meat and vegetables impaled on skewers. Some of the younger patrons, children of those present, chased each other around in a game of tag while trying to avoid the adults.
“I never thought the entire city of Cahrdyarein could fit into this building,” Ellyesce murmured in good cheer.
Jahrra turned and regarded him with a smile. She hadn’t really paid much attention to his clothing before they left, but now that she had the advantage of a room overflowing with candlelight, she was able to get a good look. He had discarded his usual, travel-worn garb for a clean long-sleeve tunic and trousers in shades of earthy greens and grays. Jahrra told him she thought the colors looked good on him.
The elf smiled, that rare spark of true cheer shining in his eyes.
“And I am very glad to see you in something other than your usual deerskin trousers and stained tunic,” he countered, grinning mischievously. “Those colors,” he indicated her blue dress, the one Jaax had given her on her last birthday, “compliment your eyes and bring out the gold in your hair.”
Jahrra gave a feeble smile, warmed by his compliment but feeling a little self-conscious nonetheless.
“And Dervit is sure to turn some heads tonight, I imagine,” she added, turning her attention onto her small friend.
The limbit grinned, removed his hat, and gave her and Ellyesce a sweeping bow. “That they will, m’lady. But only because they are sure to never have seen a limbit before.”
That made both Jahrra and Ellyesce laugh.
“I’m impressed at how quickly you’ve overcome your shyness, Dervit!” Jahrra exclaimed.
The limbit beamed and flicked his tail. “We limbits are a timid folk, that is true, but when it comes to a party, we transform into an entirely different creature.”
By this time, they had made their way to the edge of the entrance hall. Ellyesce lifted his chin and glanced over the heads of those in attendance. The light in his eyes seemed to diminish, and his smile faded. Jahrra cast him a concerned look.
“If you need me, I’ll be lingering around Morivan’s dais,” he said dryly, nodding through the cavern entrance where a small window of space had revealed the regent in the distance.
From what Jahrra could see, the steward’s clothing all but screamed royalty. His wife, in the smaller chair beside him, was dressed similarly. Jahrra studied them for a moment, and then, her eyes wandered to the other figure present in the grand cavern. She frowned, her grip on her skirts tightening ever so slightly. Jaax loomed there, just off to the side and mostly steeped in shadows. But his eyes burned through the semi-darkness like two emeralds backlit by firelight. And he was looking at her.
Jahrra narrowed her eyes. Her guardian didn’t know that she was aware of his secret plans, but he gazed upon her as if he did. Or maybe that was just her imagination. Remembering what she had told Ellyesce, she took a breath, releasing some of the harshness with it. She gave her guardian a silent nod, letting him know she saw him, then turned to find Dervit.
“Jahrra, would you like something to eat?” the limbit asked when he spotted her approaching.
He indicated a line of long tables laden with plates of appetizers and bowls of punch. Jahrra’s stomach growled, reminding her she had barely eaten anything all day. She nodded and stepped in behind her friend to keep from getting sucked back into the crowd. Ten minutes later, the two of them had found an empty windowsill to sit upon while they enjoyed the exotic delicacies of Cahrdyarein.
Jahrra was in the process of draining her punch when a familiar voice cut through the general buzz of conversation.
“There you are!”
Jahrra nearly choked on her drink. When she recovered, she glanced up to find Keiron standing before her, and for a few moments, all she could do was stare. The regent’s son wore a long tunic of shimmery ice blue fabric over a pair of form-fitting, cream-colored trousers. A pale grey jacket of suede, embroidered with silver thread, conformed to the contours of his shoulders and chest. Black knee-high boots and a silver filigree threaded through his pale hair completed the exquisite outfit.
She didn’t realize her mouth was hanging open until Dervit reached up and used one of his free hands to push her jaw closed. She blinked and glanced down at him, only to find him grinning like an imp.
Jahrra clenched her teeth and glared at the limbit, trying to will the blush she felt spreading across her cheeks to disappear. Fortunately, Keiron didn’t seem to notice. Either that or he had the decency to pretend like he hadn’t. Instead, he reached down and grabbed her hand, gently pulling her to her feet.
“I’ve been looking for you for over an hour,” he said, his voice tainted with just a hint of exasperation.
“Oh, well, we just arrived,” she answered breathlessly.
“Then, we haven’t a minute to waste. The real party is taking place in the cavern room.”
Keiron tipped his head to Dervit, and in response the limbit smiled and waved a chicken leg at him before returning to his meal. Jahrra could only blink as the Resai elf proceeded to pull her through the throng of people. Only this time, the people moved well out of the way for them. A gesture reserved entirely for the regent’s son, she gathered.
Although the cavern was crowded, the patrons had far more room to spread out than in the entrance hall. A troupe of musicians, tucked away in one corner of the chamber, plucked out a merry tune while several Resai men and women, dressed in their finest, danced away in the center of the room.