Keiron led them to the dance floor, then tugged on Jahrra’s hand, pulling her close.
“I’ve been dying to dance with you all week,” he breathed into her ear.
Jahrra fought the onslaught of goose pimples forming on her skin, but to no avail. Her head was spinning, and her heart was thumping wildly. This enthusiastic Keiron was quite the contrast to the polite, distant young Resai elf who had invited her to the ball only a few days ago. Jahrra wondered what had changed his demeanor, but wasn’t about to complain. Before she knew it, Keiron was leading her in a fast-paced dance. She had no idea what she was doing, but her partner proved to be an excellent leader, carrying her through the dance as if she had no will of her own.
Soon, the first song came to a resounding finish, but before Jahrra could catch her breath, the fiddles, flutes and drums started up again, and she was once more swept away in a flurry of movement. As Keiron spun her over the cavern floor, Jahrra caught small glimpses of the vast space around her. Fellow dancers, dressed in the colors of spring, floated around them like flowers caught in a rushing stream. Tiny, sparkling lights that hinted at magic dotted the rocky ceiling far above, their colors of pink, yellow, white and green reminding Jahrra of a clear, starry night. Great streamers of shimmery fabric in lively hues hung along the curved walls, and sconces stuffed with wildflowers spilling to the floor like miniature, frothy waterfalls added their own color and perfume to the air. Jahrra wondered where they had found the flowers, what with the recent spell of cold weather, but in the end, it wasn’t important. The rush of the music and of the dance itself, the boisterous, happy voices of the Resai elves, and the occasional cool breeze creeping in from outside only added to the general merriment of the ballroom.
Finally, the music stopped, and those in the center of the room stood and clapped, praising the musicians for their skill. The fiddlers and flautists bowed, then sat down to take a short break. A loud thumping sound drew Jahrra’s and Keiron’s attention toward the back of the room. One of the regent’s guards, decked out in the formal dress of a soldier serving court, slammed the butt of his spear against the ground to call attention to those present.
“Citizens and guests of Cahrdyarein, your attention please!”
Jahrra beamed. It wasn’t just any guard, but the captain of the guard. Pendric. He scanned the crowd like a hawk, his eyes softening when they landed on her and Keiron. Their corners crinkled as he gave her a smirk, tilting his head ever so slightly. Jahrra responded with a bow of her head and a small curtsey.
“The regent will address you now,” Pendric continued.
With Pendric’s introduction over, Morivan stood, his heavy robes and chains of jewel-encrusted gold making him wobble a little. He held out a hand, his wife rising with him. Her own dress matched her husband’s: deep scarlet and gold with gems sewn into the bodice and skirt. It was the most beautiful gown Jahrra had ever seen, and the most shameless display of opulence as well.
Beside her, Keiron let out a small, frustrated breath.
“Mother and Father do like to remind the people they are the closest thing to a king and queen Cahrdyarein will ever have.”
Jahrra cast him a sideways glance. He actually looked slightly embarrassed. Huh. And this was the person Jaax suspected of taking sides with the Crimson King. She returned her attention to his parents, studying Morivan’s self-satisfied, smug face and noting the bland indifference in his wife’s deportment. No, it was much more likely these two were feeding information to the soldiers waiting just outside the wall, poised to attack. If Morivan wished to be king, and not just regent, aiding the Crimson King’s soldiers might earn him a favor from their sovereign. The only question was, what were they waiting for? Why not attack now, while the entire town was stuffed into the regent’s fortress, too busy enjoying the food and wine and Morivan’s generous hospitality to notice any potential danger?
Jahrra shivered, then shook her head. You promised yourself not to have such thoughts tonight.
Nevertheless, she quickly glanced around the room, searching for any signs of trouble. Her eyes found Jaax before she allowed herself to return her attention to the regent. Her guardian was doing the same: scanning the crowd, his stone-still posture informing her he would miss nothing should danger arise. Feeling suddenly much safer, she let herself relax. She may still be angry with him, but she trusted her guardian’s ability to detect any threats.
“Friends and citizens, I welcome you tonight to my abode!” Morivan pronounced. “It is the Spring Equinox, and although winter’s icy fingers insist on lingering a bit longer, we will not allow this spate of bad weather to dampen our spirits!”
A wave of cheering and clapping resounded throughout the cavern.
“As many of you know, we have had some visitors with us this past week or so.”
He turned his patronizing smile onto Jaax, lingering mostly in the shadows just behind his dais. Her guardian wasn’t smiling, nor was he frowning. His eyes swept over the crowd of people once more, now silent save for a stray cough here and there. When his gaze reached Jahrra, he paused. He hadn’t seen her studying him before, but now his attention was entirely on her, as it had been when she first arrived earlier that evening. His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. Something had him irritated. Probably her close proximity to Keiron. Jahrra took a breath and casually linked her arms across her torso, standing up a little taller. He could go right ahead and be irritated. She was having a marvelous time so far, mostly because of Keiron’s superior dancing skills, and she was going to continue to have a good time.
Eventually, Jaax shifted his eyes away from her and nodded his head at Morivan. “My travel companions and I thank you for the hospitality you have shown us.”
His voice was polite, but just as cold as the night outside.
“Yes, yes,” Morivan proclaimed. “We are happy to accommodate the dragon Raejaaxorix, his elvin companion Ellyesce, and the human girl, Jahrra.”
Jahrra flinched a little at that.
“I see the elf is with you tonight,” Morivan drawled, indicating Ellyesce, who was standing in Jaax’s shadow. “But where is the girl?”
The crowd, which had thus far remained silent, began to murmur. A slight trickle of apprehension ran down Jahrra’s spine, and her questions concerning the Red Flange on the brink of attacking came back to her. Was this it? Was the regent’s acknowledgement of her the cue? Were there hidden tunnels at the back of the cavern that lead out into the world beyond the wall, where a legion of the Crimson King’s soldiers could sneak in undetected?
Jahrra was so absorbed in her paranoid thoughts that she nearly screamed when Keiron reached over to place his hand on her forearm.
“Come on,” he murmured, pressing in close to her side. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back to dancing.”
Jahrra didn’t resist as Keiron led her toward the back of the cavern where his mother and father stood. Upon seeing the regent’s son, the crowd parted, making their trip to the dais an easy one. When Morivan noticed them, his eyes rounded slightly in surprise.
“Forgive Jahrra, Father. She has been enjoying the evening with me.”
Keiron moved away from her and bowed, then held his arm out, inviting Jahrra to step forward.
Jahrra gazed up at the dais and looked first at Marzi, her cool blue gaze unwavering, then to Morivan, their eyes meeting in a sort of silent standoff. The regent quickly adopted an expression of bland indifference, but not before Jahrra caught a glimpse of slight, prickling agitation in his eyes. The regent did not enjoy having her and her companions in his city. She had not detected treachery, true, but should Cahrdyarein be invaded by the Red Flange, Morivan would readily turn her over to avoid their malice. Regardless of the regent’s obvious disdain, however, Jahrra curtsied gracefully.