Dreadlords Dance for all that we've been through

[Leander Urahil]

“We could still slip out together.” Leander said, sounding as smug as one could. There was always something charming about a woman who couldn’t who had to turn her gaze from his, almost like a pet dog that wagged it’s tail upon seeing their owner. Inwardly, he wished that he had left when he had the chance as well.

Quinnick wasn’t a bad dance partner when she wasn’t stomping on his foot. Yet he still just didn’t feel like dancing. Even if now he was giving it his all to impress her, to use everything he had learned about the practiced steps and to use any skill at his disposal to keep up the facade. Even though he wanted to look over and see how Odessa and Ivan were faring, he continued to look down at Livia.

“Regardless, you don’t need to worry about gossip. Everyone is off in their own worlds. Shouldn’t we be off in ours? Or am still not being an attentive dance partner for you?”

Livia Quinnick

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

She hadn’t expected Rowley to beginning to start leading. Karma for having poor Alistair swung around like a practice sword by a fresh initiate who knew nothing about form. There were hiccups as for a moment she fought Rowley for control to lead them. But he was firm and sure of himself; and in truth, despite Everleigh not thinking herself to be awful at dancing, Rowley obviously knew what he was doing.

There was a way that he held guided her through his large hand on the small of her back was both a gift and curse. Everleigh was jealous of the confidence that oozed from him and from the fact that she could tell their movements were elevated just by the fact that Rowley was leading.

Everleigh didn’t care if she looked good while dancing with him. In truth, she would have easily traded it in to be in the arms of another, even if he would probably step all over her toes and they’d trip over one another. With Zael it would have ended in both of them laughing at their mistakes. At least that how she imagined it, not like she could prove her theory correct. She wouldn’t ever have the chance.

But she had to keep playing pretend. It would be easy if she thought of it as a game.

“Cocky, aren’t you?” Everleigh said, mirroring Ro’s challenge. Her violet eyes were alight with cheerful mischievous that were contrary to the smirk on her lips. Tilting her chin up, Everleigh gave the initiate a smile full of white teeth, her eyes crinkling up into little crescent moons.

“I’ve always be fond of men who thought they could handle me. Do your worse, Rowley and maybe I’ll reward you for trying.”

Rowley Stone

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Alistair was just as surprised as she was! Whatever the actual reasoning behind Everleigh's sly switch, whether it was as straightforward as she said or if there was some unspoken reason beneath, still it worked out well enough for Kristen. As much as she enjoyed the social atmosphere of gala, the swapping of dance partners and all the fun of making a new acquaintance, tonight she had one man on her mind. Kristen had yet to attend a formal event with Alistair, and this Dance marking the end of written examinations was an opportunity she simply could not overlook—else she might be waiting an intolerably long time until after Graduation for another such chance.

I don't suppose you know how to dance?

Kristen laughed softly. Alistair's dry sense of humor always seemed to catch her at an unexpected turn.

"Oh, but of course," she said. "So very much of my time prior to the Academy was spent at a gala here, a party there, a festival followed by a ball followed by a soiree and so on."

For this song, or the remainder thereof, she took the lead. But in the next song she would relinquish it to him—she wanted to be led, even if Alistair had not been granted much time for dance practices. She wanted to support him. To help build him up in whatever way he needed, in whatever way he wanted, and whatever was her capacity to aid.

It wasn't about them being the most skilled couple on the dance floor, dazzling others with supreme grace and unmatched flow. It was about them enjoying this time together, cherishing this one night where they could be joined before again came the long separation of days, weeks, Aionus-forbid even a month or more.

"I am hardy the first one to employ such an analogy," said Kristen, "but here at the Academy a different kind of dance is stressed."

She smiled, eyes affixed deeply to Alistair's own.

"It is nice, every once in a while, to return to the type of dance I knew better."

Alistair Krixus

 

[Zinnia]

Well, the prospect of dancing with Silas still remained for later, it seemed. Zinnia blushed at the blond boy's wink and smiled at the floor.
"Y-yeah, later!..." she replied. With any luck she'd actually make it that far into the night. Last time she'd been in a social situation where Zaire was involved she'd wound up so out of her mind that she hardly remembered anything. Who spikes macaroni of all things?

Speaking of Zaire, it was time to go. If she refused the proctor's initial pairings there would certainly be hell to pay. Unfortunately, Zaire was so out of it that he was barely present. Mumbling about not knowing where he was or what was happening...Lords and Ladies, he was lost.

"They're d-dancing, Zaire. And we're supposed to, t-too. C'mon." she tugged on the arm of his suit. Short as they were, Zinnia was in heels. Ordinarily the two of them were the same height, but at the moment Zinnia was the taller of the two. It was odd of course, but she didn't so much mind it.
"I...don't really kn-now what I'm doing here...do you want to l-lead, or should we just do the awkward b-ballroom shuffle?"

 

[Oraya Urahil]

The dance was in need of more chaperones. At least, that's what the messenger had said when he'd delivered the letter to their family estate. Like with most things to get herself out of the stifling presence of Felix or one of his watchmen, Oraya leaped at the chance to volunteer.

And leave the estate.

And more than any of those other benefits, she would have a chance to see the twins, whom she adored. She already had some of Leander's favorite sweets in her pockets and some sour candies for Oddessa. She just hoped the darlings didn't look as gaunt as they had at the dinner their father hosted months ago.

Her Urahil signature frigid blues recognized some other nobles straight away as she entered, maneuvering her way to the punch station that had been vacated from a watch. She had half a mind to pour a flask in herself but managed not to. There was the young Diemut. And Krixus, he was quickly changing things to how the house was run by his father. And there were the Luanas.

Her noble gaze only warmed when they fell upon her younger siblings.

Would they hate that she had no bodyguard here?

Well, that was none of their concern.

 

[Oryyn Black]

"Is it really me being cocky if I have the skills to back it up?"

Rowley asked with a challenge as he pulled Evie into a spin before immediately falling back into their smooth pace. In the corner of his eyes, he could even notice a few people watching. There it was, he loved this feeling. Let the people look, and wish they were himself or Evie.

"A reward, I'm not sure the Academy would approve of that," Rowley said with a wink, but that was more than enough to make him want to show off more. While he began to lead them faster, he also made sure to hold Everleigh firmly, ensuring that she would keep up with him.

For all of his showing off and glorifying himself, he also knew that there were others that would certainly try and challenge them. Couples that would try to out due Rowley and Evie, and although they would ultimately fail, at least they were trying.

Isn't that what leadership was?

"You also seem to be quite the dancer Mrs. Ebersol. Where did you pick up the talent?"

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair knew that not only did Kristen know how to dance, she knew how to dance very well. It was a shame that it was all being wasted on him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw that large initiate that had just been with her whisk Evie away. Kristen would have probably had a better dance with him.

Still, her smile put him a little at ease. She took the lead, which gave Alistair time to practice just not messing up the dance. Eventually, she encouraged him to lead. He could feel himself gulp in anticipation, but he did lead. Al did not try anything fancy, keeping it simple, not wanting to step on Kristen.

What amazed him more was that even with his abysmal dancing, Kristen continued to smile and she even looked like she was enjoying it all. She either was great at keeping a mask up, or she was really kind. Alistair knew it to be the latter.

The other dance she referred to was unfortunately the one that Alistair knew the best. That one tended to feature a knife or sword and a lot of blood, or sometimes just a whip or some other torture device.

"Yes, probably better they went with this once." He acknowledged.

Kristen Pirian

 

[Livia Quinnick]

Had he always been this handsome?

Livia was left staring up at him with a blush, spellbound by the charm she had fought so hard to ignore. Amazing how one could really see a person when they were not sneering and looking down their nose at her. "You and I are not leaving this hall together." She cleared her throat and looked behind him as they glided in perfect synchronization. "We are going to finish this dance, and only this dance, and I will move on from your company. Perhaps I will dance with Rowley, or simply take my leave... without you." It was clear that despite the distance she kept from her classmates that none would call her a friend, her resolve would come undone by attentive eyes and pretty faces. It was a dangerous game to play, and yet Livia did her best to deflect the soft words being said to her. This was Leander Urahil. It was easy to dislike him, but when he was doing everything in his power to impress her?

"I doubt you would want to seclude yourself with me, Leander. Try anything, and I will prove to you that I am not above punching a pretty face." Livia met his attentive gaze once again, wickedness sparkling in her olivine eyes as her hand upon his chest curled into a fist.


Leander Urahil

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Not that sort of reward, I’m afraid. I’ve never been much into brunettes.” Blondes had always been more her Achilles heel. But Rowley’s confidence could be appreciated, and he was right to be proud. Everleigh wrinkled her nose at Rowley forgoing proctor and instead calling her Miss Ebersol.

“The only person who calls me Miss Ebersol is Proctor D’Amour.” Everleigh said flatly. “I don’t really care for it.” It was then that she noticed it: others glancing over at them. She had expected as much to happen when she had switched partners and had to get from one place to the other. But now that moment had settled and others should get back to focusing on other things, like their partner, right?

Then why did it feel like all eyes were on her. The invasive thoughts returned, giving reasons: purple hair, the shitty proctor participating, not wearing a dress, having switched partners, others pitying Rowley for having to dance with the poison eater— damnit, this is what happened when she was nice.

Everleigh’s hands got clammy and when Rowley step forward, Everleigh knew she should have stepped back but she stepped forward, slamming her body and face against him. Everleigh remedied herself with two small steps back, averting her gaze to the ground to watch their feet. Didn’t do much to have her palms less sweaty, though.

“See, that’s why you shouldn’t call me Miss Ebersol.”

Rowley Stone

 

[Zaire]

Zaire looked at Zinnia and started laughing, man, oh man, had Zinnia always been this funny? They were supposed to dance? Wait, is that why Houri had gone off with Silas? Relief was clear in his eyes. Well, that made things a little bit better, didn’t it?

“Damn.” Zaire said once he had followed Zinnia. He had turned to face her, his eyes a mixture of half-lidded jovial excitement and normal trepidation. “You grew this year.” When was it going to be his turn to grow? He even had dress shoes that added a inch and he was still shorter than Zinnia? Shouldn’t they be eye-level? He couldn’t even comfort himself by adding another inch because of his fluffy hair which couldn’t compare to Zinnia’s updo!

There was a delayed reaction before his eyes widened. Oh right, he had to stop gawking at the girl and dance with her.

“I’ll lead.” Zaire cleared his throat, stepping closer to Zinnia. “We’re gonna hold hands like this, and you’re going to put a hand on my shoulder. My right hand will be on your back, to help guide you, not to like touch your butt or anything. We’re gonna be kinda in each other’s space but I’m not trying to bump into your chest. Right. Yeah. And when I step forward you step back. When I step back you step forward.Ready?”

He stepped forward then back, repeating the motion with the tempo of the song.

“And then you count the music, one, two three, four, five, six, seven eight. On eight you’re gonna spin or you can just walk in a circle. Then we start over. When you wanna get fancy we can start making a box.”

Zinnia

 

[Leander Urahil]

Leander arched a pale brow as he gave Livia a look of mock hurt. He looked over at Rowley dancing with Proctor Ebersol, watching them bump into each other. Whoever had made the blunder was hard to tell, but a blunder had been made. He looked back at Livia. Before he could insult her choice in dance partners, she had moved onto the next topic.

“You wouldn’t be the first. Should I crouch down for you so you could actually have a chance at reaching?” Leander said, dipping his head low once again. This time the sharp contour of his jaw was pressed against side of the crown of Livia’s head, a tickle of her silky tresses that when touched wafted a scent that was mild and clean with just the right amount of sweetness.

“More importantly, can you explain why you’d want to dance with someone who can’t compare to me?” Leander asked, taking this time to look about the hall. They were turning and it was during this turn that Leander noticed a familiar face that shouldn’t have been there at all. What the hell was Oraya doing here?

The young Urahil swallowed, a prickle of nervousness sliding down his spine like cold water. The hand on Livia’s back tightened, fingers pressing against the fabric of her dress. Was Felix here as well? There was no way he’d let Oraya come unsupervised, right? If one of his older brothers weren’t here watching over here then that pervert Smelly Amelly?

As calmly as he could, he scanned the crowd, golden gaze searching for faces that didn’t belong. He came up with nothing and yet it did little to ease him. Someone hiding in the shadows then and here he was dancing out in the open like the puppet his family wanted him to be.

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

With a deep scowl, her fist unfurled and lay flat against his chest once again. If she indeed could land a blow upon him, word would no doubt reach her mother and her brothers. There was no need to subject herself to their complaints, or their fussing on bruising her knuckles on the jaw of a Urahil golden boy. As his head lowered, Livia's hear skipped several beats as their feet missed none. What on earth was she doing, fawning over this dolt that only regarded her presence as an inconvenience on his aesthetics?

She kept the scowl fixed on her face, narrowing her eyes into his chest as the dance continued for what felt like forevermore. When she chose to ignore his last question, it was to spare her the trouble of coming up with an argument. The hand at her back did not go unnoticed as the feeling of the embroidery and bead work scraped under his fingers. Her brows softened, turning her head to wards his and pointedly ignoring that her forehead was now a breath away from his lips. "Whatever it is you are looking for, you best stop now before I find it for you. I really do not want to be searching for something until my head aches, so shut up and dance." It seemed to work the first couple of times for her, and Livia delivered another quick stomp on his other foot gracefully and with no interruption to their dance. The longer he was searching for something, the greater the need to solve that mystery and appease her power. Without the corruption to her magic, she would of been able to ignore his exploration and hunt.

Leander Urahil

 

[Zinnia]

“You grew this year.”

Zinnia frowned slightly, tapping her heels into the floor.
"I didn't..."

At first, based on the guffawing, Zinnia thought Zaire might not be "present" enough to dance at all, but she surprised him almost immediately. Somehow the stoner managed to pull himself into enough focus that he began to lead Zinnia rather flawlessly. She was actually rather impressed.
"Um...r-right, like this?"

She followed his steps, willfully ignoring the comments about touching her butt and so on. She was just as awkward sober as he was high, after all. While forming the box was going to take a little work, she did feel comfortable enough to do a few actual spins as they did their steps.

That was when she glanced up at the pin in her dance partner's hair. She'd seen it earlier, but not on him.

"H-hey...Z-Zaire? Do you have a thing for...Houri?

 

[Trix]

Trix did not know if it was her teaching or her partner simply relaxing, but Caeso hadn't come close to stepping on her toes for at least a minute now. She found herself more able to relax and even let him lead round a few of the bends.

I am...dismayed to hear that your family has disregarded you so,​

Another shrug. For her, being disregarded was perhaps the best outcome. She wasn't entirely sure what she would have done had they forced her back into the world she was so clearly not a part of anymore.

Graduation...what truly happened there?

The tension she had lost returned almost immediately with a hint of pain and anger as she looked through him. As though just beyond his shoulder she could see the events playing out right there before her eyes. The screaming, the pain, the fear and desperation. Seeing Jaxan die, being unable to help with her wrists bound, the warmth of another's blood on her face when it became kill or be killed...

She blinked and the vision was gone.

"Ghost stories have no place in a ballroom," she gave him a half-hearted smile but perhaps her silence said far more than simple words could have. "Besides, it won't be something you have to worry about. Maybe they'll introduce one of those little ceremonies they do in Elbion instead."

 

[Ivan Skender]

He set down his wine glass as he heard Proctor Choal announce the pairings.

- “Guess it was meant to be, huh?” - He offered, rather obliviously, to his date with a smile. As soon as he had finished his sentence though, Odessa was already pulling him towards the dance floor.

As they found a suitable spot, he would take her right hand in his left, while the other came to rest on Odessa’s hip. As the music played around them, he seized its relatively low tempo to lead his partner into the rhythm.

For all of his confidence though, Odessa would find him an overwhelmingly average dance partner. The Academy, as easily predicted, had never bothered to teach him the greater details of fine dancing, however, it had managed to give him some basic notions for the few times he had been assigned to escorting Anirian nobles here and there. In short, he knew the theory, and although he did not have much in the way of practice, he was nimble enough on his feet that he could make do with his lack of experience... provided he didn’t do anything too fancy.

In other words, he was an efficient, even if not passionate, dancer. Someone who could lead her competently through all the notes of a song, but wouldn't make her heart swoon with his dancing moves. A fact he would be thoroughly stressing out about, had he not noticed the patch of seemingly rotten skin on her wrist.

His eyes widened, with his ice-grey gaze darting between that of his partner and her wrist.

- “Is that…?” - He turned his own wrist, making Odessa’s turn along with his as their hands clasped together for the dance. - “...from the mission?” -

He hesitated for a split-second, nearly stepping on the girl before he pulled himself back together.

That… was not how it was supposed to have gone, something he still - rather unusually - felt guilty over.

- “We should take a look at that.” -

Odessa Urahil​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Effortlessly she fell into step with Alistair's lead when he did take over. After a few solid years being trounced in the Academy's sparring arena, it felt wonderful and refreshing to be doing something where her confidence left no room for doubt.

"Probably better, yes," she said, throat humming with a few giggles she kept from escaping.

Gods, had she waited for this. Dreamt of it, even. The song was lively now, but when inevitably a slow song came to be played, when she and Alistair were thus permitted to be as close as could be, oh would Kristen savor the moment. The press of his body to hers and hers to his, the intimacy of their tandem steps in the slow dance...she couldn't wait.

Until then:

"'Tis a funny thing," she said. "I for all my time here have been striving toward that dance with which you are far more acquainted, and just for this one night have our positions been reversed." With the advent of a new question springing to mind, Kristen asked, "Have recent times allowed for you to attend very many socials, or no?"

Alistair Krixus

 

[Caeso Diemut]

There was a certain, undeniable look which could be glimpsed only in the eyes of those who have seen something truly terrible. And for denizens of the Academy, erstwhile and current, this was saying something profound.

Ghost stories have no place in a ballroom.

She was right, and it was at best a faux pas on his part for asking the question in these polite environs. This was supposed to be a good night for everyone, even Caeso had allowed for such a spirit within himself, and yet he'd taken a step just a bit too far. Best to leave said ghost stories in their proper place: elsewhere.

He could only give an understanding, mildly apologetic nod.

Their dance continued, and Trix steered the conversation toward, admittedly, rocky waters for him; much like those ghost stories though, this was hardly the place or time to expound on all the attending thoughts about the damage being done to the Academy—and by extension its Initiates.

Caeso found one way to present common ground, however: "A little ceremony...after a capstone test of some description. Our mettle, our ability, that of the so-called 'Gilded Class' of which I am a part, should be proven in a manner which, though different from that of our predecessors, is nevertheless suited to our purpose."

War. This was the one thing which the Republic could not, and should not, ever change.

Trix

 

[Zaire]

“Just like that. Not too bad, right? Better than the ballroom shuffle.” Zaire said, still taking on the task of being in charge of their movements. Other pairings may have been spinning and twirling and dipping here or ducking there, but there was nothing wrong with taking things slow and focusing on the basics.

He had been lucky that back in Vel Ehn he had been immersed with dance and music. Farmers liked nothing more than celebrating a good harvest or rain season or even a temperate spring. The picnics at noon or the nights around a bonfire were always filled with what many would call commoner merriment. If it weren’t for his mother who had taken the time to teach her two boys more sophisticated dances then maybe Zinnia would have struggled.

As of right now, Zaire saw nothing wrong with her movements. Then again, he could barely see. And despite not having the best focus when it came to sight, Zaire had awkwardly tilted his head and gaze away from Zinnia.

Until she asked what she did.

“Why? Do you?” His voice cracked from the surprise of another challenger to vie for Houri’s affections. “It’s because of her honey cakes, isn’t it?”

Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

"Yeah, this is n-nice, Zaire," Zinnia replied, a slight smile beginning to peak from the corners of her lips. She had never been the most coordinated person on the planet and certainly never took the opportunity to learn how to dance properly.

The break in Zaire's voice that came with his answer to Zinnia's question let her know quite a bit. Social anxiety was not social stupidity. The follow up that Zaire belched unceremoniously into the aether was more the latter.
"H-...honey cakes?" she repeated, bewildered. Zinnia shook her head, then finished her thought. "No Zaire, I d-don't have any interest in Houri. P-promise. But you seem to."

 

[Oryyn Black]

"Damn shame, but I have been told that I grow on people." Rowley offered with a playful grin, only to have the smile whipped from his face as he saw her eyes. He could feel her hands, the clamminess that usually came when girls were awestruck by him, but he knew that not to be the case here.

She was nervous, shamed, or something. At the minimum, she did not want to be here. Rowley leaned in close and whispered to her.

"Oh, no none of that. Ignore the looks of those who are too afraid to even dance. Right now, we are the center of attention. Right now, no matter what you or I have done, everyone just wishes they were us."

To cap the sentence off with an exclamation, Rowley pulled Everleigh into a spin before a graceful dip that practically screamed, 'Notice us. We are better than you.'

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Leading the dance was a strange sensation. Alistair was clearly leading, but it was Kristen's skill that was ensuring no mistakes were made. Incredibly graceful, and always knowing where Alistair would take her before he even did.

"Yes, I don't know how you did it. It is very... nerve-racking." Alistair explained.

Funnily enough, the faster-moving dance, while requiring more technique was the dance Alistair was least afraid of. He knew the steps and just had to focus. However, it was the slow dance that frightened him. He would be pressed against Kristen, which would normally be great. However, what if he stepped on her feet, or they fell over? What if she could feel his heart about to beat out of his chest?

"Um, no. I have often done my best to avoid them...I've been to a few for mission reasons, but...that has only been recently."

The simple truth was Alistair was what most at the Academy called a late bloomer. Up until he was about 17, Alistair had been on the skinny side, tall and lanky and awkward, the perfect combination. Thankfully, he had grown into his muscle and by extension some more of his confidence But, his early years of awkwardness had kept Alistair away from experimenting with...social events. It had been easier to lock himself in his workshop.

"I was an awkward kid growing up."

Kristen Pirian

 

[Trix]

Trix's head canted to one side at the terseness to his tone. Was this really a debate they were having for the younger years? There had been no doubt in her mind that their class would be tested to the very limits of their abilities, they just hadn't expected... that.

"Well, of course," she said with visible confusion. "To do otherwise would make us no better than Elbion," and that, for Trix, would be a disgrace. Even the guardsmen had physically punishing exams they had to pass in order to gain a rank of note. She glanced over Caeso's shoulder towards where the Proctors still stood by the punchbowl and made a note to ask. She had jested of some fancy ceremony but if that truly was all initiates would have to do to become a Dreadlord, then she was concerned for the future of Aniria.

"I will speak to the Proctors, and the Generals. I'm sure they can find some middle ground between murder and shaking the headmasters hand."

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Thank Kress she hadn’t actually worn a dress! Thank Kress she had only unbuttoned the button on the collar and the one underneath it! The dip wasn’t anything crazy, yet to keep balance Everleigh still kicked out a leg to help balance her as if the strong hand on her back might disappear. The hand on Rowley’s shoulder tightened, fingernails pressing in.

She couldn’t quite ignore the fact that the dip made her even more self conscious than before, especially as she felt the need to adjust her center of balance to feel comfortable with the swell of her bust. But before she could worry another second she was back on her feet.

Everleigh looked up at Rowley, the nervousness there for only half of a second. If this were a game, she would be losing. The bravado was back. Time to even the playing field.

“Next time, I’m dipping you.” She threatened with a grin, finding her footing and grace once again. A few counts passed, no longer bumping into Rowley or actually thinking about the footwork, when suddenly, Everleigh took on the steps for the leading partner. “Alright, hotshot, give me a spin!” She demanded, holding her arm out long and high for Rowley to pass under. He’d still have to duck his head but that would only be part of the fun of it.

Rowley Stone

 

[Zaire]

“Right, not the honey cakes.” Zaire mumbled, as if putting all the pieces together. “You were all about the mashed potatoes.” He nodded his head, locs bouncing and causing the golden clip to catch the light of all the candles above. Zaire looked away from Zinnia, searching for Houri and seeing her with Silas.

That was what a couple should look like, isn’t it? He frowned for a moment, thinking over the predicament he found himself in. In truth, if he could dance with anyone, he’d want it to be Houri and only Houri. Not that he disliked Zinnia or was upset currently with dancing with her.

Zinnia just wasn’t Houri, the initiate who kept his mind up at night as he lamented over all the failed interactions with her. Houri, who despite some of the quirks associated with her, was capable in battle and a serious candidate to graduate with praise. Not only was she beautiful in a way that made him feel guilty to look at her, but she had a kindness that he had only ever associated with Maseno.

Zaire was certain others liked her too, how could they not when he liked her so much? There had to be a hundred other people who wanted her, and if there was only one who saw Houri as the sublime pinnacle of perfection, then it could only be Zaire. The moment he had laid eyes on her, his heart had pounded like never before. Even on the ten mile runs his heart couldn’t recreate such a hypnotizing tempo.

An ache settled in his chest. His one-sided feelings were just that: a silent song for only his ears.

“So what if I do?”

Zinnia

 

[Leander Urahil]

Finally, the facade of the perfect gentleman broke. Livia Quinnick had the strangely particular talent of getting on his nerves. The first stomp on his foot he could ignore and use it against her— after all, the best way to shut up a smart mouth was to kiss it so to speak. This second one? Somehow it had hurt more than the first one. His foot was going to end up black and blue with bruises at this rate.

“For Kress sake!” Leander growled down at her, his hold on her hand tightening. “Are you a goddamn Hairy Mammoth Bear or a lady, Quinnick? I’m starting to think you’re stepping on my toes on purpose.” He scowled down at her, lips tight with irritation. A particular cord in his neck seemed to pop out as he held back the urge to return the favor.

“My eldest sister is here. Do not embarrass me in front of her or I will have others gossiping about us.” He’d let her imagine run wild with that one.

Livia Quinnick