Page 53 of Lady Knight and the Thief

“I don’t want to hear it, Thief,” She retorted, and spun on her heel. Where she was going, she didn’t really care; she just couldn’t keep looking at him, or else she might do something truly foolish, like smack him in front of the entire court.

Cypress supposed, though, that it was naive of her to think that she and Torren would be able to get along for any amount oftime, let alone an entire dance number, without throwing insults back and forth. Still, her pride was wounded.

Taking a deep breath, Cypress straightened her spine and selected another goblet of the Pixie wine from a passing servant. Without pausing,she took a deep gulp.

The Old One could take Torren, for all she cared. Cypress would have fun without him, one way or another.

The notes of another song crested, filling the throne room with a slower, jauntier tune.

Those dancing looked as if everyone had been choreographed down to the most minute movements. Ladies would gracefully extend their necks and arms back for the dip, while the men artfully tossed them into the air or leaped over the floor with them.

At Caelith’s Keep, dancing was a relatively slow affair. Distance was maintained between bodies, hands never moving beyond shoulders.

Cypress had never seen such…revelry.

Walking through one of the large archways to a balcony, Cypress pressed the remarkably cold goblet to her forehead in an effort to cool her skin. The dance had left her with a flush, one likely not helped by the goblet of wine in her hand. It tasted sweet, but left Cypress feeling warm and fuzzy.

Several guests nodded to Cypress on her way out of the throne room, and soon enough, she was alone. Leaning against the outer balcony rail, she looked out toward the rest of the seat of the Wylds.

Even at this time of night, the entire ring was illuminated with life. Bioluminescent creatures of every size walked and flew about the clearing. Most gave off a bluish hue, though some glowed in a veritable rainbow of color. Mushrooms pulsed with glowing light at the very edge of the circle, and on the stepsleading into A’aravos Paravale. The wind whispered through the leaves, flitting through the ends of her hair.

This place was gorgeous, but she couldn’t rid the heat from her skin, the undulating ferocity running rampant in her veins. Torren had well and truly riled her up, but Cypress couldn’t understand why or where this energy was coming from.

Cypress took another deep breath, savoring the cool night air, then finished her goblet of Pixie wine.

She would forget what Torren said, forget about the anger he’d inspired, and enjoy the rest of the evening. Maybe find someone who didn’t mind her clumsy footwork.

With her composure retained, Cypress moved once more into the throne room. Spotting a servant carrying a tray laden with her new favorite wine, Cypress traded her empty goblet for a full one. Then, she quietly gave her thanks before moving on.

Guests still moved in a remarkably synchronized dance, gliding around the space with absurd grace.

Cypress was determined to try the dance again, to prove to herself that Torren waswrongand she haddefinitelynot broken any of his toes.

She couldn’t have lightly trodden on his toes more than once or twice.

Cypress pulled herself to her full height and looked around the edges of the room.

She was searching for an eligible companion for the evening. Her gaze was often met with a smile in return, though Cypress did not find what she was looking for.

There was this…heatin her veins that felt as if it were calling, echoing.

Cypress felt half-crazed, but tried to keep her composure as she wandered around the room, taking in the sights and committing everything to memory.

By the time the goblet of Pixie wine was empty, it occurred to Cypress that perhaps the last had been a mistake.

Her blood felt hot, a restless heat rippling through her body in undulating waves. It didn’t matter, though, because a tall Satyress was currently looking at Cypress like she wanted her to be her next meal.

Cypress was inclined to let the Satyress devour her.

That is, until the one and only Torren re-entered her vision.

“Cypress, could I have a word with you?” He asked after politely tapping the Satyress on the shoulder to cut in.

Naturally, since he was the Prince, Cypress’s suitor promptly disappeared into the crowd without even giving her a single backward glance.

She glared at Torren, crossing her arms over her chest, shifting on her feet. “What?”

Torren’s gaze flickered up and down her form, pausing on her flushed skin, the uneven catch of her breath.