Chapter 15 Amaryllis
AMARYLLIS
When Mr Bailey said he’d prepared a stage, I wasn’t expecting much. After all, the man owns a tavern, not a theatre.
Still, I was expecting something – perhaps a raised platform, or maybe even a fenced-off area surrounded by chairs.
Nope.
Clearly my expectations were far too high, as his ‘stage’ consists of a few long wooden tables that have been tied together with rope and pushed to the far corner of the tavern.
By the time I arrive, there’s already a large crowd beginning to form. The men at the front are probably close enough to grab my ankles if I dance too near the edge. A shiver runs through me at the thought. I’ll have to make sure I don’t step too close.
“Gentlemen of Bailey's Tavern,” Mr Bailey announces while I try my best to climb gracefully onto a table. “Please may I present to you, Miss Scarlett Diosa.”
I take my starting position, tucking my hands to my chest and raising my chin high. Beneath me, the tables shake as those near the front pound their fists against the wood, while the rest of my audience whoop and cheer.
It’s strange. I suppose I should be feeling scared.
Aside from Father, or the occasional lucky guard, no one other than my sisters has ever watched me dance.
And yet here I am, with nothing but excitement pulsing through my bones, as if I’m about to perform on a real stage in a glittering theatre, miles away from any grimy tavern tables.
My breath stills. The cheers and pounding quieten. And with the first trill of the piano, I’m away – exhaling as I lose myself in a flurry of delicate pointe work and sweeping arabesques.
I’ve danced this variation many times before. It’s from one of my favourite ballets – Giselle.
The music starts slow, allowing me a moment of pause after each intricate step or turn. I use it to smile into the crowd, batting my eyes towards members of the audience, just as Giselle would as she waltzes around her village.
Then the music quickens, along with my steps. Each pirouette sends my skirt fanning out around me, while each leap earns me another cheer from the crowd.
As the song continues, I can’t help but lose myself. The wooden beams of the tavern sprout leaves as they morph into trees. The walls fall away to become cottages. Even the hungry eyes of my audience fade into the innocent smiles of villagers.
I am no longer in Night Alley.
I am Giselle. Stepping. Turning. Spinning, as I dance endlessly around my quaint village.
The final steps are the hardest. Quick, delicate piqué turns, over and over again, in a full circle around the stage.
Normally I would struggle, but tonight my feet move for me – twisting and flicking, twisting and flicking – until finally I sweep up my arms before dramatically dropping into my finishing pose.
My chest heaves.
Slowly, the bright woodland village transforms back into the old tavern.
Shrubs turn into tables as the woodcutter’s cottage morphs back to a bar.
But it’s only as my gaze drops to the audience that the haze fully clears, and I realise the music has long since been drowned out by thunderous applause.
“Bravo, Miss Scarlett! Encore! Bravo!” people yell over the cheers.
Beaming, I rise from my pose before dropping into a deep curtsy. I might not be the real Scarlett Diosa, but that doesn’t stop me from basking in their awe. After tonight, my dance circle will never satisfy me again.
“Ruby!” Kasimir’s voice makes my stomach dip.
Rising from my curtsy, I turn to see him, his hands gripping the edge of the stage. A proud smile covers his face, but there’s something else there too – something almost primal.
I race towards him.
“How was it?” I ask, holding his shoulders as he catches me by my waist. Smoothly, he lifts me off the stage and sets me down on the floor.
“You were wonderful,” he murmurs. “Could’ve done without the audience, though.”
“What do you mean?” I laugh, but then my breath hitches as he tucks a stray hair behind my ear.
“Next time, you dance just for me,” he says, tilting my chin up towards him.
“The other men here are lucky I was far too preoccupied with watching you to take note of which ones I need to kill for staring too hard.” Then he moves closer, brushing a whisper of a kiss over my lips.
“Shall we remind them just how taken you are?”
Beneath my corset, my heart flutters. Oh, Stars…
“Miss Diosa!”
Flinching, I stumble back as Mr Bailey emerges from the crowd. Thankfully, Kaz catches me by my waist before I fall to the floor in front of the oblivious tavern owner.
“I must say, that was simply marvellous, Miss Diosa! The best entertainment we’ve ever had!” Mr Bailey beams, waving his hands ecstatically.
“As I said, the pleasure is all mine.” I smile. Kaz gives my waist an approving squeeze, pressing me to his side once again.
“Of course, my dear,” Mr Bailey blabbers. “But please, let me now invite the two of you somewhere more private, so I can give my thanks in full – and we,” he slides a knowing glance towards Kasimir, “can discuss the other reason you’ve gathered us all here tonight.”
I raise an eyebrow, but they both ignore me.
“Lead the way, Mr Bailey.” Kaz grins.
Together, we follow the tavern owner as he clears a path through the crowd. The entire time, Kaz keeps his arms wrapped protectively around me. I can’t see his expression as we walk, but it must be fairly severe considering that everyone seems to keep their distance as we pass by.
Eventually, we arrive at an unassuming door, and we’re quickly ushered through.
Inside, we’re greeted by a small, windowless room containing a round table large enough to seat twelve. But my chest tightens as I notice that each seat is taken by an equally gruff-looking man – each seat apart from three empty chairs slotted randomly between them.
Mr Bailey moves swiftly to take the chair closest to the door, gesturing for us to join him with a sweeping arm.
I swallow, but before I can walk off alone to find a seat, Kaz drags me towards the chair directly across from Mr Bailey. There, he sits down first before promptly pulling me into his lap.
I squeak in surprise as my backside hits his thighs. Then I squeak again as his arm snakes around my waist, smoothly pulling me against his chest.
My cheeks heat. The others watch us with narrowed eyes, but Kasimir ignores them.
“You may begin,” he drawls, relaxing into his chair. One hand strokes my skirt while the other hangs lazily off the armrest.
Mr Bailey clears his throat. “I appreciate you coming along today, and for bringing Miss Diosa with you.” He pauses, casting a glance my way before turning back to Kaz. “I trust we are able to speak openly about our business dealings in front of your… companion?”
“My fiancée, Mr Bailey,” Kaz corrects him. “But yes, you may speak freely. Scarlett is aware of our dealings – not that it makes much sense to her.”
I stiffen, surprised by his words.
“Women,” Kaz chuckles, stroking my thigh. “So sweet, and yet such simple creatures.”
“Simple?” I snap my head towards him. But my words are drowned out as the table erupts into cruel laughter.
Noticing my fury, Kaz pulls me closer, drawing his lips to my ear.
“Play the part, Miss Diosa,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against my neck.
I could smack him. But instead, I choose to swallow down my anger. Whatever this is, surely it’s part of the plan. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself as I begrudgingly relax further into him.
“Simple creatures indeed,” Mr Bailey says between laughs. The men around the table all chuckle in agreement as I feel Kaz’s hand squeezing my thigh. Some kind of apology perhaps? Right now, I’m too angry to care.
“But alas,” Mr Bailey starts, catching his breath. “Onto more pressing matters…”
With a clasp of his hands, the large man launches into a speech about some kind of business deal, and every so often a few of the other men around the table pipe up too.
Even though Kasimir told them to speak freely, I can tell they’re still being vague – referring to whatever it is Kaz wants only as the goods and how much Kaz owes him as the payment.
After a few minutes, my mind tunes out. If Kasimir wants me to be simple, then that’s what I’ll be. And right now, all this ‘simple woman’ can focus on is how boring this conversation is and how uncomfortable my seat has become.
With a huff, I shift on his lap, sliding closer towards his hips. The movement makes Kaz groan quietly, but I don’t care. If it weren’t for him, I’d be at home in the palace, fast asleep in my soft silk bed.
Scowling, I shuffle again, still trying to find a comfortable position. But then my breath catches as my backside brushes something firm, and rapidly growing firmer, beneath his belt.
“Ruby,” he warns, tugging my ear towards his lips. The other men around the table are far too engrossed in their conversation to notice my chest heaving as Kaz’s hand tightens on my thigh. “Behave.”
I freeze, swallowing hard. But then my anger from before returns, clawing up my throat and burning more fiercely than ever.
If he’s allowed to make me uncomfortable – to drag me into this room, call me simple, and keep me like a pet on his lap – why can’t I do the same?
With an innocent smile, I keep shuffling. To anyone else, it looks like I’m just getting comfortable, but to Kasimir – my intentions are crystal clear as I slowly and deliberately roll my hips against his growing length.
“Ruby,” he says again, but this time it’s more desperate.
“Something wrong?” I murmur innocently.
Kaz squeezes my thigh, hard enough to make me gasp. “This is your final warning,” he hisses. “Don’t forget what I told you in your bedchamber. Princess or not, you want to act like a whore? I’ll treat you like one.”
Behind my ribs, my heart thrums. I really should stop. Kasimir isn’t the type to make idle threats, and I seriously doubt any of the men here would complain if he lost control and took my virtue right here on this table.