Page 15 of Lord of Dance and Desire

Samuel eyed me sideways.

“One.” I didn't bother to lighten my flat tone.

She frowned. “Not that your expression isn't creepy or anything right now.”

“Lord Dartanyon.”

Samuel and Taima stared at me. “How did you know that?” Samuel asked. He narrowed his eyes. He wasn't nearly as naive as Taima. “You've got dirt on him. Dish.”

Taima sighed, lowering her head to the table. “I knew it was too good to be true,” she said, her voice muffled.

“You haven't even heard what I have to say yet,” I pointed out.

“I don't have to hear it.” She straightened, glaring at me. “I'm young, not stupid. So what's the problem?”

I hesitated, chewing on my bottom lip, and glanced towards where Mathen skulked in a corner, not glowering at me because he would never glower in public, but from the set of his shoulders he was distinctly unhappy.

“Look, I can't really get into this because I have to go, I'm already late. But stay away from Lord Dartanyon. You remember that Stephen King movie? Misery?”

Taima’s eyes widened. “Oh shit. So which one is Dartanyon?”

“He's definitely Annie. Just the High Fae Court version. I promise to give you all the details but suffice it to say Andrei told me Lord D has a giant cage on his estate that he likes to stuff full of his very own live ballerinas.”

Samuel choked on his drink. “Why are the beautiful ones always so fucking crazy?”

I stood. “This is Casakraine. They're all crazy.”

“You would know, since you're fucking the craziest one,” a male voice said from the side of us.

I turned. “Xavi.”

He stood a few feet away, a bright grin on his face, his eyes glittering. I frowned at him. He wasn’t usually the smiley type.

“You know,” Samuel said behind me, “I'm just about getting sick of you. Why don't you go slither off and find a rock to crawl underneath and stop riding Han’s ass?”

“Didn't you know?” Taima said, not bothering to lower her voice as she gave Xavi a vicious little smile. “He wanted to ride it, and she said no. It's why he's been such a little bitch all season. Can't take rejection.”

“You can’t touch me,” Xavi said, moving forward. “And when?—”

“All right,” I said. “Maybe we should all retire for the evening. There’s no need to?—”

I didn’t quite hear what Xavi said in return.

I did hear Taima’s shriek of fury.

“You promise Samuel won't get kicked out of the program?”

“For fisticuffs?” Mathen’s voice was terse with worry. “No.” He slammed the coach door.

Ten minutes, a cup of coffee, that's all I'd intended. But Xavi had had the same idea as us—or followed with the intent to pick a fight. The cafe wasn’t owned by any High Fae we knew of, so he felt free to escalate his insults.

Usually I turned my nose up at altercations with children. As one of the older dancers this season, I shouldered a slight responsibility to set an example of mature conduct.

Because Coralene’s luck wasn’t with us when Taima snapped, Samuel went to her rescue—except Samuel could actually throw a punch.

Mathen tried to herd me out, but I’d discovered he still wouldn't put his hands on me to forcibly move me out of the cafe. Maybe he would if the situation was life and death? I didn't know.

By the time the brawl dispersed, almost thirty minutes had passed. We'd taken Taima back to the locker rooms to dab at herminor injuries—which could be covered by makeup. None of the injuries impacted her dancing.

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