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

realize that by the end of the dance I would have to be moving very quickly indeed.
    I shot Kadar a glare of annoyed comprehension, and he grinned back at me. After that I had no time for remonstrances, because I was far too occupied with not falling over my own feet — or those of the other women who shared the line with me — to tell him what I thought of his little joke. Several times I bumped into my neighbors, but they did not seem to mind and only laughed at the silliness of it all until I found myself laughing along with them. By the time the dance was over, I was both gasping and giggling, and did not feel overmuch inclined to struggle when Kadar took me by the waist and led me off the dance floor.
    “Ah, so you can smile,” he said, after helping himself to a reviving draught of wine. “I had begun to wonder whether your continued dour expression was an attempt to hide missing teeth. I am glad to see I was wrong.”
    Missing — “My teeth are all very well, I do assure you,” I retorted. “But perhaps you should have checked that before you brought me here.”
    “Perhaps. Then again,” he added, looking thoughtful, “I fear if I had attempted to open your mouth to inspect those lovely teeth of yours, you most likely would have bitten my fingers off.”
    Despite myself, I smiled. The silly dance had worked like a tonic on my mood, and if I just concentrated on the lively music in the background and the quite fine vintage in my cup, I could almost forget the reason why I was here in the first place.
    I didn’t want to admit it, but it seemed that some part of me enjoyed the verbal sparring with Kadar. It reminded me of the practice swordplay rounds back in the courtyard of my home, when Thani and my father used to spend hours trading blows. Just before Thani had departed for Sirlende to complete his training in Lord Senric’s household, my brother and my father had been evenly matched, and most of the time there never seemed to be a clear victor. Neither of them seemed to be bothered by the situation overmuch, and somehow I didn’t mind the back and forth with Kadar quite as much as I probably should have.
    “Another smile!” Kadar exclaimed. “Truly, a momentous occasion. I must have the scribes make a note of it.”
    “I’m sure they’ve been diligently recording all of the day’s great activities.”
    As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished I had not said them at all, for Kadar’s expression grew thoughtful. He gazed down at me for a moment, then looked away to the revelers, who had continued with their dancing and drinking and talking. No one seemed to be paying us much attention.
    “But this day, like all others, must come to an end at last.” He set down his wine goblet and reached for my hand. I almost snatched it away and stopped myself just in time. Despite my reluctance to face what must inevitably come next, I did not want to make a scene.
    And so he led me from the hall, away from the light and color and music. The corridors of the castle seemed ominously dark to me in contrast, for low candles burned in sconces at large intervals, thus providing barely enough illumination to show the way.
    I could not yet pretend any great familiarity with the building’s layout, but at length I did recognize the corridor through which he led me, as well as the wide shallow steps leading up to the double doors of Kadar’s suite. Two guards stood there, and one opened the right-hand door for us.
    The servants had been busy here as well; more of the autumn garlands decorated the mantel, the window arches, and even the top of the bookcase. Candles smelling of sweet beeswax flickered from every corner. If the circumstances had been different, I might have found it all very lovely.
    As it was…
    Kadar let go of my hand and strode to the fireplace, then grasped a poker and stirred the logs — quite unnecessarily, I thought, as the fire seemed to be blazing away quite well without his assistance.