Page 27 of Orpheus
Once it became quiet again, Jason proceeded on. “But as you drink and be merry this evening, please take the time to remember not only those that are here with us tonight, but also those that have fallen in my honor. A few of our comrades were valiant in their efforts to see our adventure through, but did not make it with us. To those individuals, I want to take a moment of silence to remember them.”
Jason bowed his head and closed his eyes. Everyone else in the dining hall followed suit. Not a single voice or sound was heard for nearly a full minute. Not even a drop of water, nor the chirping of any lingering insect that made its way into the castle walls. Nothing but steady silence.
I too allowed my eyes to shut and my mind to carry me away to Calais. It left me to remember every vivid detail that I admired about the wind demi-god, from his captivating silver eyes to his beautifully flowing white hair. The curves and thickness of his tanned muscles, along with the glorious span of his dusky wings with golden patterns.
Jason’s voice brought everyone back down into this room. “Thank you. And now let us dance, drink, and celebrate this monumental moment!” He raised his goblet in the air out towards his audience before taking a hefty sip of it, leaning his head back.
A few nymphs and performers made their way out to the main dance floor as everyone began to eat and drink. Another hour had passed, which seemed like a complete blur to me. I found myself still chatting with the Argonauts, listening to their every word, while not contributing much to the conversation.
As I watched them, I could not help but find my gaze trying to steer me in a different direction. My eyes peered out of my periphery and over to the main floor where the Earth dancers now were. A group of young men and women spun around and organized themselves into a pyrrhic dance. But it was a male dancer that I caught staring at me. He was youthful. Must have been close to my age or possibly even a little younger, but his toned muscles told me he was definitely a man.
His hair was as dark as charcoal, a gorgeous contrast to his honey-colored skin. Even from where I was seated, I was able to fully distinguish those eyelashes of his. They were long and thick, very unique compared to most people. The way he moved was effortless with the song that played. I found myself unable to stare away from him. I scrutinized his every dance move, admiring his flexibility and the way his muscles tightened and revealed themselves with every intricate shift he made with his body.
His clothes were forest green with streaks of cedar brown scattered across his garbs, giving him a more natural and earthy look that he and his fellow Earth dancers were likely going for. Once he saw me lock eye contact with him, a graceful and yet brilliant smile appeared on his face. I immediately turned away, ashamed that I had watched him for this long. I averted my attention back to the Argonauts, who were sharing more about their adventures and homelands.
I laughed at a few of their jokes and stories before I felt a tap on my shoulder. I craned my neck to see who was trying to get my attention, but then turned my entire body once I realized who it was. It was the very same Earth dancer I was just watching a moment ago.
My eyes widened with alarm. What was he doing at my table? Why was he here in front of me? I stared at everyone else around me who now seemed intrigued by the dancer who was before me.
“Hi,” he simply stated.
“Hello?” I replied back to him, seeming unsure of his intent. I could not help but notice how vibrant his emerald eyes were. His green tunic made them sparkle, and all the more noticeable.
“I see you haven’t moved from this spot all night. Not even to dance,” he let me know.
How would he have known that? Unless he was vigilant, studying my every move throughout the entire night thus far. But why would he?
“I’m just not really up to it tonight, I suppose,” I admitted to him.
“Well, that’s really a shame. I was going to ask you to dance with me.” The Earth dancer folded his hands behind his back.
I raised my brow at him. “You were?”
“Of course. You are the most handsome man here. How could I not?”
As much as I was flattered by this cute boy’s compliments, I could not commit myself to return the favor. A cloud of gloom still hovered over me and was likely not going to pass over anytime soon.
“Look. I appreciate the offer. On any other evening, I would accept your offer and dance. But not tonight,” I confessed.
“Hmmm. Well, what seems to be the issue?” he pressed. I was stunned by his adamance, even in front of all these people. He really didn’t seem to pay any mind to them.
“There’s just a lot weighing on my mind. Plus, I’m not that great of a dancer,” I fibbed with the latter.
“What!? That’s impossible. Now I have to see it to believe it,” the male dancer said, before reaching for my hand. He pulled me out of my seat, practically dragging me out to the dance floor, not once loosening his grip on me.
“What are you doing!? I told you I can’t do it,” I repeated aggravatedly, as he weaved us through all the other dancers who were moving about.
“You will be fine. Plus, you don’t really have a choice. I can be quite stubborn when I need to be.”
He finally released my hand and stood in front of me, shaking his hips and moving his legs, but I remained still, undeterred. Seeing as how I was not budging, the boy decided to take matters into his own hands, literally. He reached for my hands once more and placed them on his own hips, before placing his palms on my shoulders, forcing us to sway to the music.
My glares wandered around the room, searching to see if anyone was upset or shocked by this guy’s outlandish behavior and us, two men, dancing together.
Just who was he?
Much to my relief, everyone was pre-occupied with their wine and own conversations they were attending to.
Seeing as how I was not getting myself out of this dance with this stranger, I decided to play his game and put all of the lessons together that my aunt Terpsichore, the muse of dance, had taught me over the years.
