Free Binding Spell (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms) by Christine Pope Page A

obligatory chord for everyone to honor their partners, and then launched into the first piece. It appeared Kadar had been telling the truth — this particular dance was slow and stately, with a good deal of walking and a few circles with the two couples in each set holding hands, but nothing more complicated than that. Once I understood how our progression down the hall worked, there really was nothing to it.
    The other couples around us laughed and chattered, but I remained silent throughout the piece. Perhaps Kadar and the rest of the dancers attributed my taciturn behavior to my unfamiliarity with the dance…perhaps not. At the moment I did not much care one way or another. And as Kadar did not seem inclined to press me for conversation, I managed to survive the dance without embarrassing myself.
    Afterward he led me back to my seat at the high table, the only table that had not been cleared away to make room for dancing. ”You may rest here — it is known that you are not familiar with our dances, and so I think you will be able to sit quietly.”
    “And you?” I inquired. Certainly I was in no mood for celebrating, but I also didn’t much relish the thought of sitting alone the whole night.
    “Oh, I’ll come reclaim you from time to time,” he replied, purposely misunderstanding me. “But I intend to make merry this evening.”
    With that he left me and went to claim as his partner a pretty, pert young woman with curls almost as wild as mine and a brilliant smile one could see from halfway across the hall. I doubted she was one of the young noblewomen whose matrimonial hopes had been dashed when Kadar took me as his bride, or she wouldn’t have been grinning so broadly. But she looked to be a lively partner, one far more appealing than I knew I was at the moment.
    Of course no one approached me, and so I had to pretend it suited me to merely watch the dancers. The next piece proved to be more spirited, with couples weaving and twisting in and around each other as they progressed through the line. Most likely I would have been lost if I had attempted such a thing, and I tried to tell myself that being a wallflower was not so bad. For some reason I kept looking to see with whom Kadar danced next, whether she was pretty, and whether he seemed to be enjoying himself. In every case, the answer to both those questions seemed to be yes, and I fought a losing battle to keep a scowl from my face.
    Sitting and watching also meant that I had little to do save take small sips from my goblet and try not to think about what would happen once the music was over and the guests had departed. The food I had managed to eat rested uneasily in my stomach. I swallowed against the sour taste that rose in my throat and wished to be someplace very far away.
    At length Kadar either decided to take pity on me, or perhaps he realized that to leave his new bride sitting alone for too long would invite questions. He approached and said merrily, “Are you rested enough to try the next one? I will warn you that it is rather lively.”
    “I’m sure I can manage,” I told him. “Even though I do confess that I am rather weary.”
    The dark brows lifted. “Weary? After only one dance?”
    “I fear I did not sleep well last night.”
    He said nothing, but gave me one hard glance before taking my hand in his and leading me out to the new line that had begun to form. To my surprise, he did not bother to claim his place at the head of the line but fell into position halfway down.
    “Remember,” he said. “Lively.”
    “I’ll be fine,” I replied and lifted my chin, mentally vowing to acquit myself well even if it killed me.
    And truly, when the dance began I thought Kadar must have been making a joke at my expense, for the steps seemed simple enough, merely basic movements right and left and a few one-hand turns. But then we finished the first verse, and the musicians increased the tempo of the song. Just a little, but enough for me to