Page 46 of Aofie's Quest
My heart thudded a strange rhythm in my chest as I glanced from his face to his hand. He smiled when I met his gray eyes, and a warmness came over me, a distinct longing. I placed my hand in his and his fingertips brushed over my wrist. A delicious shiver went through my spine and my breath came short as he pulled me to my feet. “Where are we going?” I ventured.
“It is a night of festivities.” He pulled me away from the table, out to the floor where couples danced, arms entwined around each other, some with heads on shoulders. “You must dance.”
“With you?” I squeaked.
He raised an eyebrow and glanced across the hall. “Is there someone else you’d rather dance with? Aofie, you wound me.”
I laughed, surprised at his words. “This is the most lighthearted I’ve seen you.”
He pulled me to the dance floor and twirled me around as the music drifted around us. “Aye. Here I can shed the cloak of a ranger and live recklessly. After all, this is my home.”
I paused, distracted by our proximity. He drew my hand up to his shoulder and wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him, as though we would embrace. “I thought you were from the mountains, an iceman,” I said breathlessly.
His hand tightened around my waist and his voice carried a distinct edge. “The mountains of ice are where I was born. Where my people are from. It does not make it my home.”
“Oh.” My voice felt small in my throat.
The floor beneath my slippered feet was made of crushed jewels, their colors still smoldering in the smooth floor. Something brushed my head, and I stared as white petals drifted from somewhere high above me. My heart pounded in my chest. The tempo of the music took on a seductive tone. A warm flush crept up my face, and I wondered if Romulus could feel the heat coming from my body.
“What do you think?” Romulus’s hand pressed into the small of my back as we swayed together.
“It is magnificent.” I dared to meet his slate-gray eyes.
The muscles of his shoulder moved under my hand as we danced. When he cocked his head, a thrill passed through me. I’d never been this close to a man, one of my kind. Thoughts and impulses darted through me. I wondered what it would be like if his lips touched mine, and his hands slipped lower. A longing came over me, desperation for more than the friendship he offered. I wanted something deeper, more meaningful, something true to hold to. His eyes enchanted me. My thoughts hung suspended as we twirled and when he bent his silver head closer, I thought I would stop breathing. His hard body pressed against mine but I was lost in his eyes, barely daring to breath as his lips hovered so near, I thought he’d kiss me. Instead, he nestled his head against mine until his lips feathered against my ears. “It is magnificent, but you, Aofie Mor, are so much more. You are exquisite.”
I stilled in his arms while my dream of long ago flashed before me. A blush came over my face and I squeezed his arm. “Romulus,” I whispered, wanting to tell him everything.
We were so close I felt his cheeks move when he spoke. “Nothing else needs to be said.”
Trembling with anticipation and the possibility of what might be, I closed my eyes and let him sweep me away. I held on to the moment, enjoying every note of the song, the sweet fragrance in the air, the musical tones of the elves, and more importantly, the warmth and security of Romulus holding me tight.
Chapter Forty
I dreamedof him that night, hands to my lips as I lay in the softest bed I’d ever slept in. He hadn’t kissed me but the promise of it hovered around me, leaving me wanting more. My thoughts turned to Takari, and the way she felt, desperate, not knowing, seeking closure. Was this what love was? The endless desire? Lying awake at night only to imagine the next encounter, hoping it would be something more? Even my dreams were full of him—silver hair, slate-gray eyes. And a kiss. What would it taste like? Feel like?
At last, I slept under the starry night sky, and when I woke, the sun beamed through the crystal ceiling, warming me. I was able to see my room. It was a small square, the ceiling open to the sky while vines twisted up on the walls. I’d slept on a bed carved of silver wood, piled high with white blankets. When I slipped out of it, a warm carpet met my feet, and laid out on a small table were dresses. My staff and clothes I’d received in Elsdore were gone, along with everything I’d had when I set out from the Beluar Woods.
I dressed carefully, for I’d slept without clothes, afraid to ruin the beautiful silk dress, and yet two more had been laid out in my room. I wore the plainest one, which was the color of sunshine. I found an ivory brush beside the dresses and with a pang I brushed out my hair. It hadn’t started to grow again, and wistfully I fingered the edges until I saw the mirror.
It lay facedown on the table, the color of moonlight, and it was heavy to my touch. I’d originally mistaken it for a brush, but when I picked it up, my face stared back at me. My blue eyes were enormous, haunted and deep set. I’d lost weight and my face was thin, almost pinched. A spray of fading freckles covered my nose, I wondered if they’d been there my entire life. My lips were wide, and I touched them, wondering if they were the kind of lips Romulus would like to kiss. My face flushed, and I put the mirror down. Wasn’t vanity a sin? There hadn’t been mirrors in the Beluar Woods and I’d heard they led others astray, making them wish to be something they were not—prettier, thinner, fatter. Whatever feature one did not have, the mirror made one wish they had it. Tentatively, I picked up the mirror again in an attempt to study myself objectively. I was no elf, but I certainly wasn’t bad looking, and my shorn hair wasn’t as horrible as I expected. Still, I put the mirror down and resolved not to look at it.
A tap at the door startled me. I pressed my hand to my heart and pulled open the heavy door, hoping it would be Romulus. Instead, a slim elven maid looked up at me. She could not have been more than twelve years old and carried a tray laden with food. She curtsied when I opened the door and held up the tray. “I brought you food,” she said, then smiled.
A child. I’d been so wrapped up in the festivities I hadn’t noticed the elven children, yet they’d been there the evening before, at least in the beginning. I held the door open. “Come in. This is too much food for just me; perhaps you’d like to join me?”
The elven girl’s eyes grew wide as she put the tray down on the small table. “But you are royalty.”
I shook my head. My blood would not be a curse. “I’ll tell you a secret,” I confided in her. “I don’t feel like royalty. You can just call me Aofie.”
Smiling, she unwrapped the plates, causing the mouth-watering scents to rise. “Aofie, what a pretty name. I’m Tiwyn, your maid for the duration that you stay here.”
I stared. “I don’t need a maid.”
The girl glanced up at me. “Reish said you’d say that.”
Reish? Suddenly my vision went dizzy, and I fumbled to sit down. “Reish is here?”
Tiwyn paused. “She was when I begged to serve you, and the ladies laughed and said I was too young. Reish appeared and told them if they didn’t let me, something bad would happen.”
