Page 19 of To Sway a Bard
Zula handed him the mask and turned. “Where is yours?” she asked as he fitted it around her face and began tying it gently.
Her hair was enchanting, and he wanted to bury his face in it, take her in his arms and taste her. It took him three tries to finish tying the knot with his trembling fingers.
She turned, touching the edges of the mask that lay against her sloped cheekbones. “Who am I now?” she asked playfully.
Neo’s voice went hoarse. “Zula. I’d recognize you anywhere.”
“Will others?” Concern laced her tone, even though she attempted to sound nonchalant. She slid past him, out of the room.
Neo held out his arm. “Trust me.”
He moved slowly to accommodate her limp. While there were many fine healers in the palace, his mother had advised against treating her. She believed Zula would attempt to escape during the masquerade. Why heal her and make it any easier?
The upper and lower balconies were filled with guests, the patio given over to the dancers. Blue hues of darkness washed over the palace. Torches flared, palm trees danced, and far above them, the twinkle of white stars paid homage to the night.
Taking advantage of the moment, Neo pulled Zula close, into a dance. Not like the dancers on the patio, but with her hands resting on his arms, swaying from side to side, letting the ethereal rhythm of the remarkable evening fill them.
“Why am I here?” Zula asked.
Firelight flickered, highlighting her golden-brown skin, her bare lips full and kissable. Neo realized he was afraid of himself, afraid of what he might do with the woman of his dreams willingly in his arms.
“Because you’re my prisoner,” he teased.
She squeezed his arm. “Aside from that. I expected to be imprisoned, yet here I am being treated like a guest.”
“Perhaps you are. In all honesty, this wasn’t my idea, but I’m glad that you’re here. You look beautiful tonight, different, and by being here, I hope you get a glimpse of what life could be like on the right side of the law.”
Zula laughed, but there was a slight bitterness to it. “You’re offering me a masked life of dancing in the dark. It would become rather dull, wouldn’t it?”
“Do you not enjoy the music?”
“I do. The musicians are very skilled, but you’re avoiding my question.”
“Admittedly, I’m concerned about how you’ll react. I know a bit about you, your past, and we’re not so different. There’s one thing that compelsboth of us and it’s a drive to achieve. You do so by stealing and I do so by bringing people to justice. What if we joined forces? What if we worked together to experience the thrill of the chase?”
A sudden stillness came over her, and he paused, hating that he couldn’t see her eyes clearly enough to gauge her reaction.
“You’re asking me to give up who I am to become the version you want me to be? A partner? There can be no partnership with you. You’re a prince, a sheriff, everything I’m not.”
“Those are just titles, don’t you see? You’re good at hunting, at finding, at evading capture. Those are skills. Why not use them to benefit yourself and the kingdom?”
“Because I don’t work for anyone other than myself. I decide what heists I want to do, who to work with. Besides, this is all for nothing, because I need my ukulele. It’s the magic within it that makes everything possible.”
“Whether you work for thieves or for the crown, you’re still working for someone. Does it have to beon the wrong side of the law? Is it the danger you find most attractive?”
“The crown would never pay me what thieves can.”
“Then what do you want, Zula? You admitted you want a purpose, that money, wealth, treasure are hollow. What is it you’re so desperate for?”
“To live life on my own terms, to have the freedom to come and go without looking over my shoulder.”
“If that’s what you want, you’re in the wrong career. You always have to look over your shoulder because of the bounty on your head.”
Zula pulled back. “This was my last heist. At least for a while. With you and your men closing in, and that ridiculous bounty, I thought it best that I lie low for a time.”
Neo stared at her in surprise, at a loss for words.
She crossed her arms. “My share of the purse was enough to last me for a long time, but if I entertain any thought where you and I are forced to work together, there’s no rest. I’m at the beck and call of the crown, and that’s its own kind of prison, beingtold what to do and when to do it. So no, you and I aren’t alike, because at least I have the luxury to choose, while you’re a prince, a sheriff. You can’t choose.”
