Chapter Eleven
I awoke to silver and gray light rays casting chaotic shadows around stacked crates and partially assembled furniture.
Despite the inconvenience of an attempted mugging, the prior evening had been a delight.
Our wordplay was a pleasure as always, yet becoming close physically, comfortable with each other’s touch?
My eyelids drooped at the memory of an embrace that Sephimara…
Sephi had held easily ten minutes long. Yet more importantly, a bond of trust was building, not just individually, but together.
Yes, something was going on. But she would trust me enough to reveal it when she was ready and I would trust her that until then it was best not knowing.
She was a vast ocean, stretching to the horizon, with little waves gently lapping around my ankles at the moment. When the time was right, she’d invite me to dive in. Or more likely hit me with the force of a tsunami and drag me in. Which was just fine by me.
A luxuriously silky steel-blue sheet slid from my shoulders to my lap as I sat up.
I’d slept atop a surprisingly comfortable bed that folded out from a sofa.
Her apartment was pleasantly warm—I spied cast-iron radiators under the tall multi-paned windows.
Red brick walls may have been bare of artwork, glow lamps may have been stacked on crates, but something about the place felt cozy.
“Good morning Mister Thistlewood.” Sephi’s voice was soft yet musical. She padded in from the bedroom, baring a delightfully alluring swath of leg between thick wool stockings, and a cream-colored silk nightgown extending to mid thigh.
I cocked my head. “Didn’t I ask you to call me Theo?”
“You did not, Mister Thistlewood.”
I glared at her. “You don’t make things easy on me, do you.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “The best things in life never are.”
“So you’re saying you’re the best thing in life?”
She sat at the edge of the bed and put a hand on my shoulder. “You are the one who said it, Mister Thistlewood. Superior in every way to your preconceptions of an elven lady was your wording, I believe.”
I put a hand atop hers, as if afraid she’d pull away. “I didn’t suspect at the time that it would be used against me.”
She simply smiled in return. That subtle bemused smile that fit her voluptuous lips like a masterpiece artwork to the finest frame.
I slid out of bed and knelt in front of her, extending a hand to her, palm up.
She took it gently in her fingers, sharply contrasting the firm grasp of yesterday.
“My dearest Lady Sephimara Arazniros, also known in some circles as the Blade Baroness, and known to one Theodore Thistlewood simply as Sephi…”
Her smile grew ever so delightfully crooked.
“I humbly request that you refer to me, at least in private, as, ‘Theo.’ ”
She grasped my hand a tad firmer and stood. “Then arise, my valiant protector.”
I stood, again at that tantalizing distance, my chest a mere handsbreadth from hers. “Technically, I think you did the bulk of the protecting.”
“Shush.” She pressed her lips into a line. A solemn expression that would have fooled most. Yet she was a roaring oven on a cold winter night, radiating warmth even with the door firmly shut. “I shall henceforth refer to you in private, and possibly in public, at my sole prerogative, as ‘Theo.’ ”
We wrapped our arms around each other, pressing our bodies tight, and simply swayed in place, cheek to cheek many long minutes.
“Umm, almost as good as a dance,” I said.
She pulled back, head cocked. “Speaking of…”
“Oh?”
“Let us bathe and have breakfast, and then we can discuss it.”
The loft may have looked rustic at first glance, but the fittings were state-of-the-art, including hot and cold running water.
The expansive bathroom had a tub and a shower, and was decked floor to ceiling in checkered cobalt blue and white tiles.
She went first, emerging a quarter of an hour later wrapped in a thick terrycloth towel, leaving the bathroom swirling in delightful warm steam with the scent of pine and peppermint.
The dorm room baths were a luxury. This was an extravagance. Replete with Sephi’s scent. Which may have simply been her soap, but was still wonderful.
As I helped her prepare breakfast, we fell into sync, brushing against each other as we danced about the kitchen.
Routine phrases like ‘where do you keep your saucepans,’ and ‘would you mind reaching that serving spoon,’ made simple tasks a pleasure, while an enchanting warmth seeped into her voice, softening the perfected enunciation of her words.
“For just having moved in, your apartment is well-equipped,” I said, as we finished mushroom omelets garnished with figs and a side of sourdough bread.
She brushed her lips with a cream-colored napkin. “I was lucky to find the place. I purchased much of the furniture from the former tenant. I… lost everything when the ship went down.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And gained the heaviest of baggage.”
I clasped a hand around her forearm. “I’m sorry. I know how stressful that was. Then the inquiry afterwards. I’ve been trying not to bring it up, I really have.”
She put a hand atop mine, rubbing the pad of her thumb gently along my hand.
“I never apologized for that theater our first day. I was annoyed that the count insisted on taking me shopping for replacement clothing and luggage. I had it delivered to the academy only to find… your patience with the matter has been exemplary.”
There was more to it. I didn’t know what, but pressing her on it wasn’t the answer. I wished I knew the answer. “Wasn’t there something you wished to discuss?”
She cocked her head.
“Before breakfast, you mentioned…”
She nodded. “Yes. Dance. Due to various circumstances, some of which I hold you responsible for, I neglected my dance practice.”
“I was responsible for?”
“Yes.” She clasped her hands together. “And as recompense, it is only appropriate for you to serve as my dance partner this morning.”
“As recompense.” A grin spread across my face. “I suppose it would be appropriate.”
We took half an hour to rearrange furniture and slide crates out of the way. The plank floor may have looked rustic, yet was smooth and well polished.
“Since I presume you have not properly anticipated your duties as dance partner and brought dance shoes, we will have to arrange a substitute.”
“I don’t actually own dance shoes. I hadn’t planned on…” really any sort of social engagement of that sort here in Halamar.
Her subtle smile evaporated. “You do know how to dance?” Her voice softened. “You jested about the Lindworm Lunge previously, yet I assumed… that is to say, sometimes my position affords me certain things that I may take for granted in others. I apologize if—”
I raised a hand. “It’s fine. My hometown is small, but we did have a dance hall. I just never had proper shoes—made do buffing the soles of street shoes.”
Her former smile returned.
After a bit of experimentation, we settled on stockings, with her lending me a pair that slid a bit better than the ones I had with me.
She, of course, did have dance shoes, but with me in stocking feet, it would have exacerbated our height difference.
And as odd as it may sound, she looked positively adorable in stocking feet.
Sephi stood in front of me and put a hand on my shoulder. “You know the Ashryn Waltz?”
“Yes.” I extended a hand and stopped. “But something… I’m used to a different arm position, I think.”
“Oh!” She removed her own hand. “You are most likely used to leading. You’ll have to reverse steps and arm positions. The taller partner always leads.”
I closed my eyes, trying to imagine everything in reverse. Enough to give me a headache. Although the thought of being called her partner gave me the warm fuzzies. “It might be easier if you lead me through the basic steps.”
“Very well.” She tipped her head, her smile and crooked lift of her eyebrows betraying a wicked satisfaction. “It is a six-count step, with a slight pause between three and four, and a sweep on steps two and five. The sweep is more accentuated in the local version of the dance.”
I bit my lip, trying to envision the steps in reverse from what I was used to. “I usually step forward with the left, so now I would have to step back with the right.”
“Precisely, Mister Thist… Theo.”
“I believe for dance practice we may use our full names. Lady Arazniros.”
Our hands slid into position around each other’s shoulders and waists. The exact position felt a little odd, but our closeness, the cup of her slim, elegant hand around my waist, the sensation of our hands clasped together felt more natural than any dance partner I could remember.
“I will start,” she said. “One-two-three. Four-five-six. Good. A little more sweep.”
After a few minutes, I no longer needed to look at my feet. After a few more, we no longer counted aloud. We practiced the basic step for a solid ten minutes, resetting my muscle memory. The circle variation went much easier.
“You are picking this up quite nicely, Mister Thistlewood. Are you ready to try a figure?”
“Possibly. A pity we don’t have any music, so I could be sure I can do it when I’m not counting.”
She cocked her head. “We do. In one of these boxes.”
She dug through a couple of boxes to produce a polished wooden chest. “Here it is.”
“A music box?”
“Only a basic model, I am afraid, but it does have interchangeable cylinders. I have a few songs suitable for the waltz.”
We resumed position, listening to the beat for a few seconds before continuing.
One-two-three. Four-five-six.
I mentally ticked off the steps, sliding my legs forward, back, and sideways in sync with the sweeps of her long, graceful legs.
She moved. I moved. We were together, tantalizingly close, and yet the ease at which we moved together was exhilarating.
Maybe not better than an embrace, simply wonderful in a completely different way.
The music box clinked to an awkward stop. We kept dancing.
“You are picking this up remarkably well, Mister Thistlewood.”
“I have an excellent dance partner… Sephi.”
“Are we back to informal names?” She came to a stop, stocking feet together.
“Perhaps.” I smiled at her several seconds.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
“I have one regret.”
“Which is?”
“The lead partner is the one who cups his or her hand around the other’s waist.”
“And?”
“You have such a lovely waist, Sephi.”
She took my hands in hers, set them on each side of her waist, before guiding them slowly around to follow that lovely curve to meet at the small of her back. “Is that satisfactory?”
I gazed into her eyes, savoring that subtle smile.
I pulled her against me, feeling our hips and thighs press against each other, feeling my chest melt into her bosom.
She tipped her head down to glide her cheek against mine.
“It is… most satisfactory, Sephi.”