Page 171 of The Ascended
I closed my eyes, thinking back to the Last Light celebration—the last time I had danced freely, before everything changed. I could almost hear the fiddle, the stamp of feet on packed earth.
I began to move, letting my body remember the rhythms of home. I spun, arms outstretched, feeling the weight of my hair as it swung around me.
When I opened my eyes, Xül was watching me with an expression beyond his usual calculation or amusement.
"That's not dancing," he finally said, though there was no judgment in his tone. "That's freedom."
I stilled, suddenly aware of how I must have looked to him. "Well, it won't do me much good at Syrena's ball, will it?"
"No," he agreed, stepping closer. "There's only one dance you need to learn for that."
He positioned himself before me, one hand extended. I placed my hand in his, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through me at the contact. His other hand settled at my waist, firm but light.
"Your hand goes on my shoulder," he instructed.
I complied, acutely aware of the solid muscle beneath my palm.
"Now, follow my lead. It's three steps and a pause, repeated in a pattern."
He began to move, guiding me. I stumbled almost immediately, my foot catching on his.
"Sorry," I muttered, frustration building.
"Try again," he said, his patience surprising me. "Keep your back straight, chin up."
I met his gaze and we began again. This time, I managed several steps before faltering.
"Better," he murmured. "Keep your focus on me, not on your feet. The body follows the eyes."
I looked up, finding myself caught in his mismatched gaze. The contrast had unnerved me once. Now, I found it oddly mesmerizing.
"What was the first thing you ever stole?" he asked suddenly.
The question caught me so off guard I nearly tripped again. "What?"
"You heard me." There was a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'm curious."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "What makes you think I've stolen anything?"
"You’re a rather talented locksmith," he said smoothly. "One does not acquire such skills for no reason."
I flushed. "A fisherman's knife," I admitted. "I was eleven. It had a handle carved like a leaping dolphin." I concentrated on the steps, remembering. "The fisherman was cruel to his children. Used to beat them with a strap when they didn't clean the catch fast enough."
"So it was vengeance?"
"Not exactly." I shrugged. "I just wanted him to feel what it was like to lose something he valued."
"Did it work? Did he change?"
"No," I said. "If anything, he got worse. I didn't understand then that some people just... break something else when they're broken."
Xül guided me through a turn, his hand steady at my waist. "An early lesson, then."
"I suppose," I said. "What about you? What's the first rule you ever broke?"
His lips curved into the ghost of a smile. "Who says I've broken any rules?"
I gave him a flat look. "Please."
