Page 74 of Dhampira

“Dancing is for young people.” Taking my elbow, he moved me forward until I was practically standing on top of Lorcan. With a wink, Rasimir patted my hand. “I’ll leave you to it.”

As the king headed toward the throne, Lorcan looked at me.

I stepped back. Like in the Everless, his height forced me to crane my neck to meet his eyes. It was just as annoying as the first time. “How old are you?” I asked.

“A touch over six hundred years.” Grabbing my hand, he pulled me through the pirouetting couples. He turned his head just enough to mutter, “And I don’t dance.”

I hurried to keep up with him, skirts and smiles whipping around me. Lorcan’s palm was warm against mine, his shoulders a broad bulwark against the sea of spinning dancers. Finally, we reached the other side of the floor, where he stopped me next to a pillar.

“Have you eaten?” he demanded.

“No.”

“Wait here.”

“But I—” I snapped my mouth shut as he melted into the crowd. Lorcan could fetch all the food he wanted—and he could turn around and carry it right back. My stomach was too unsettled to eat anything.

Moving deeper into the shadows surrounding the pillar, I gazed around the ballroom. Courtiers clustered in groups, their conversations punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter. Servants wove among the richly dressed nobles with trays of blood-wine in tall, clear glasses. The acrobats continued their routines, bare skin gleaming between their silk bindings.

Rasimir sat on his throne, one forearm propped on the arm as he appeared to engage in an animated exchange with a male courtier. A flash of red caught my eye, and I sucked in a breath as Vander stepped from behind the throne and stood on the other side. The crimson serpent spread over his chest. Clasping his hands in front of him, he surveyed the crowd with a watchful expression.

A sudden burst of applause pulled my attention to the opposite end of the ballroom. The male acrobat rose into the air above his platform, his wings creating gusts of wind that made several women shriek good-naturedly as they clutched at their elaborate coiffures. Hovering, the acrobat reached back with both hands. At the same time, he lifted one leg behind him as he kept the toes of his other leg pointed toward the floor. Arching his spine, he grasped the ankle of his raised leg and pulled it up between his wings to the back of his head in an impossible stretch. Holding the position, he began to slowly rotate.

An appreciative murmur rushed through the crowd. The courtiers clustered at the platform’s base erupted in another round of applause.

The acrobat continued to rotate, his only movement the broad sweep of his wings. Violet and veined with black and speckles of white, they were as vibrant as a butterfly’s. Like the woman, his hair was a golden blond. And like the woman, he was waxed smooth, leaving zero to the imagination. For some reason, the white ribbons around his limbs were more revealing than total nudity might have been. The gaps in the silk framed his chest and groin, putting his round pecs, taut buttocks, and thick penis on display as he spun. Plump testicles nestled under his shaft.

“Delicious, isn’t he?” a low voice said in my ear.

Swallowing a scream, I jerked my gaze from the acrobat to the male courtier at my shoulder.

“Did I startle you?” he asked, the tips of his fangs showing. His hair was white like Delphine’s, the long strands tucked behind ears adorned with gold hoops. His eyes were the same rich golden color.

They’d gleamed when he blew the horn to start the hunt that killed Alon. They’d shone even brighter when he reined in his horse as Alon collapsed on the forest floor. Rasimir had addressed him as Lord Seldare.

“No,” I said, disgust crawling under my skin.

Lord Seldare’s smile widened. “No, he’s not delicious, or no, I didn’t startle you?”

“Just no.” I turned back to the acrobat, who now executed a series of midair somersaults that carried him above the ballroom floor. At the edge of my vision, Lord Seldare followed the man’s progress before moving closer to me. His regard licked over the side of my face like a snake’s tongue.

“They’re called glomarids.” When I looked at him, he nodded toward the tumbling acrobat. “The performers. Have you seen one before? They’re native to Veradorn, but the elves kicked them out eons ago.” He huffed, his breath stirring my hair. “Supposedly, the elves booted them out of sheer frustration. Glomarids are stupid, frivolous creatures.” His voice slid lower. “But they taste like candy.”

Disgust wormed deeper. Clenching my jaw, I focused on the couples twirling around the ballroom.

“Do you care to dance?” Lord Seldare asked.

Plastering a smile on my face, I looked at him. “No, thank you. I’m content to watch.”

“I find that difficult to believe.” Lord Seldare’s sleeve brushed mine. “Come now, Your Highness. One dance.”

Wings of panic fluttered in my chest. “Thank you, but no, my lord.” Where in the name of all the gods was Lorcan?

Lord Seldare’s eyes went abruptly cold. He leaned closer, his tone as frosty as his expression. “I am one of the king’s favorites,” he said through clenched teeth. “I won’t be brushed off in public.”

What? The panic fluttered faster. Anger flared with it. No matter what I did, trouble dogged my steps. But I couldn’t dance with Lord Seldare, not even if I wanted to.

And we were attracting attention. Rasimir still conversed with the courtier beside his throne, but several others stared in my direction as Lord Seldare continued to hover. A woman with lavender curls snapped her fan open. Lifting it to her lips, she leaned into her companion and spoke behind the painted silk.