Page 9 of Lord of Dance and Desire

“Lady Hasannah.”

I looked up at the unfamiliar feminine voice. Next to me, Philea stiffened and rose, turned and bowed.

“Lord Miahela.”

Miahela? Slowly, I raised my head and twisted to face the woman who’d entered the kitchen.

Long wavy ash-gold hair with much darker roots, and robin’s egg blue eyes set in a face made from Michelangelo’s wet dreams. Tall, full figured in a way I rarely saw among Fae women.

Had I bathed yesterday? From the state of my t-shirt, probably not. I recalled Mathen brushing my hair.

She lifted a brow and spared me a single, encompassing glance. “Has my brother not trained his human in proper etiquette? Or grooming, for that matter?”

“Mia.” Constin’s flat voice. “This isn't a good time.”

“It’s the perfect time, Con.” Miahela gave him a smooth, cold smile. “I want to talk to the human girl. Come.”

She left the kitchen, the luudthen tense in her wake.

“Fuck,” Philea said. “She should be at Court. Andreien must not know she’s here.”

Constin turned to me. “Hasannah, I know you don’t feel well, but you need to brush off your manners and attend Lord Miahela. This is important.”

“Why?” I asked, trying to think past the gray mist of indifference.

“If the fact that she’s a Lord of the High Court, Andreien’s sister and Issahelle’s daughter isn’t enough, allow me to convince you that you do not want to offend this woman. Andrei can’t control her, and neither can we.”

“I thought she was younger.”

“That doesn't make her weaker.”

“Or saner,” Philea added under her breath. “Outstanding oral skills notwithstanding.”

“I can hear you,” Miahela purred from the living area.

“Let’s put it this way,” Philea continued. “Andrei promised to be a normal person, despite being a High Lord. Mia laughs at that shit and calls it sentimental. She’s what you were told to fear.”

“Surely not,” Andrei’s sister said. “I’m harmless to the well-mannered.”

How was that any version of the truth? Wait. . .well-mannered could be defined several ways.

A brush of fear broke through my apathy. If she hurt me, I wouldn’t be able to dance.

I stood. “I’ll go dress. Will she wait?”

“We’ll entertain her,” was Constin’s grim reply. “Go swiftly. Wear something Andrei bought you.”

Cute. “There's nothing left in my closet he didn’t buy.”

Once in my bedroom I brushed my teeth, washed the important bits in a bird bath and slid into one of the ao dai Andrei had bought, the long overdress a dark green, the narrow pants gold. I entered the living room.

“Get lost,” Miahela said, waving her hand towards the luudthen. “Shouldn’t you be with my brother, Constin?”

“He is protected,” was the stiff reply.

Miahela straightened from her elegant sprawl on the couch. “My brother is at Court, and you’ve abandoned him to babysit one mortal cygnet. You disappoint me.”

“If the Heir cannot navigate a session of Court with the guards he took with him, another will take his place.”

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