Chapter 29 Azahara #2
They raised their glasses high in unison. The voices around them blended into a harmonious cheer reverberating through the air, a celebratory symphony of clinking drinks and infectious laughter.
For the next several hours, Azahara more or less stayed in her seat, or at least around the bar. Everyone, from humans to lesser Fae to Orcs, came to talk with her. What surprised her was that they hadn’t even been workers at the Idle Fox, just patrons who knew her from her time there.
Everyone was kind, patient, and understanding of her loss of memory. Some would share her stories, and when Azahara would ask those who didn’t, they were happy to oblige.
The most notable story was when several pigs got loose and charged into the tavern.
The animated way the girl told the story had Azahara and Zhal laughing together.
“Then she just jumped on it! We couldn’t believe our eyes!
” The girl threw her hands into the air.
“A beautiful girl just tossing herself onto a dirty, muddy pig.”
Azahara laughed so hard that her cheeks began to hurt. A gentle hand caressed her face, drawing her attention away from the story.
“You’re turning red.” Kaed leaned against the bar, his smile wide. He, too, was blushing. “It’s my favorite color.”
She giggled, although muffled by the loud band playing to the right of the bar. The harmonious sounds of lutes, harps, flutes, and violins kept the tempo of the night bustling and lively.
“Here I thought you called me Red because of my hair.” She leaned forward toward him, a toothy grin across her face.
“Oh no, no, no.” His shoulders rose and fell as he chuckled. “It’s the red on your cheeks when you smile at me.” His lips met hers, and she felt the alcohol rush to her head.
“Okay, okay!” Illyan pushed between them. “Don’t make me jealous. Remember, I’m lonely.” They smiled drunkenly at Kaed. “Will you dance with me?”
Azahara pressed her lips together, struggling to hold back her laughter.
A rough groan escaped Kaed’s lips, but surprisingly, he pushed off the bar and extended his hand. “Come on.” Perhaps it was the alcohol, but she found him more attractive in that moment.
Illyan squealed and took his hand, disappearing into the crowd of patrons. Azahara couldn’t help but laugh as she watched Illyan instantly throw their arms around Kaed’s neck.
Zhal had disappeared a while ago, and she scanned the crowd, wondering if her warrior would dance with her. Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the figure approaching until it was too late.
“May I have a dance?” As she swiftly turned on the stool, she came face to face with a familiar figure, a whirlwind of emotions churning within her.
His light hazel eyes traced her from head to toe before locking onto her face, and a charming smile graced his features, accentuating his chiseled jawline and high cheekbones.
By the Mother, what does he eat to look this good?
“Jayce,” she said, her gaze fixed on his outstretched hand, hesitating to take it. “What are you doing here?”
He dropped his hand sheepishly and closed the distance between them. “Well, technically, the doors were open to anyone who wanted to attend.” She crossed her arms under her chest, studying him. He continued, “I also wanted to apologize for earlier.”
“You were simply carrying out your duty to your king,” she replied, a hint of condemnation in her tone. “Technically, you didn’t do anything wrong. So, why are you apologizing to me?”
He sighed, taking a seat on the barstool beside her. “Ale, please,” he called out to Broan, who promptly got to work, “and make it two.”
A weary smile played on his lips. “I was surprised to see you there. If I had known you were coming, I would have warned you about the king and his... ways.”
Azahara leaned closer to hear him over the loud music. “I don’t know you. Why would I have shared my plans with some stranger? Plus, I already knew he was an ass.”
He leaned in as well, his voice softer amidst the noise.
“You’re right on both accounts. There was no expectation for me to know, and he is, in fact, an ass.
” As their ales arrived, he took a large gulp.
She noticed that he wasn’t wearing his standard Cloak attire, but instead a casual pair of tan tunic pants and a black shirt tucked in.
His black hair was disheveled, and he looked tired, yet it didn’t take away from how gorgeous he was.
The subtle stubble on his face only added to his allure.
“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you,” he continued.
She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “I don’t understand. You don’t know me, unless you do, and you aren’t telling me.”
“I met you last night—” Jayce paused, his attention drawn to something over her shoulder. A girl walked by, and as she passed, she winked at Azahara and slid her hand across Jayce’s shoulder.
Azahara stood up and quipped, “She’ll dance with you.” She took a drink from her mug, feeling his hand pressing against her hip, preventing her from moving away.
“I don’t want to dance with her.”
She rolled her eyes and placed the mug back on the bar, then moved his hand away from her.
“It’s just a dance. I understand you’re with the Elf.”
“Jayce, why?” She tilted her head, a lazy expression on her face. The alcohol in her system rushed to her head after standing, causing her to stumble slightly. His hands braced her at her waist. “I’m fine.” In truth, she was far from fine.
Perhaps to steady his nerves, he downed the ale in one go. After wiping his sleeve across his mouth, he released a heavy sigh. “Why not, Azahara?”
His gaze wandered to her lips, where she was running her tongue across them. The alcohol in her system was pushing her in several different directions, one of them being to slap him and go find Kaed.
Except, there was no need for that.
Jayce had been nothing but friendly to her.
He had rescued her from the mob yesterday and had intervened today when another Cloak guard got rough.
He had promised to keep her safe, despite only knowing her for a day.
Furthermore, he had clarified that he understood she wasn’t available, so a dance couldn’t hurt.
“Fine,” she conceded. The broad, infectious smile that lit up his face prompted her to smile in return, shake her head, and roll her eyes.
He stood and placed a hand on her back, his fingertips as cold as ice against her warmed skin, leading her to the middle of the dance floor where everyone was dancing.
The wave of people parted to give them space as they entered.
A new song began as if on cue, and a soft feminine voice hummed a tune.
There were no words, just the vibration and melody from her throat.
The music had transitioned from its previous quick pace to a more moderate tempo.
Jayce extended his hand, and she accepted it, allowing him to spin her gracefully once before guiding her closer to him.
Just before their bodies could collide, she gently touched his shoulder, stopping inches from him.
Jayce remained gracious, smiling, and taking no offense. “Tell me something about yourself, Azahara.” Despite being strangers, they navigated the steps with forced cooperation, the music just quick enough to prevent them from swaying like two awkward lovers.
“That’s a loaded question,” she said, feeling his hand slowly moving down her back.
“Okay, you’re right, let’s start off easy.” He pulled her closer. “How old are you?”
“You know it’s considered rude to ask a lady her age,” she said, adjusting herself. Her body felt warm, and her fingertips tingled from the alcohol. I think I drank too much, ugh. She thought, throwing her head back.
“That’s a bit too traditional for me. I’m twenty-eight if that makes it easier for you.” As he leaned in, his lips approaching her neck, she quickly bent backward, creating some distance between them.
He had a more imposing stature than Kaed in several ways.
While Kaed was compact, Jayce was anything but.
That wasn’t surprising, considering he was a Commander of the White Cloaks.
He likely devoted as much time to physical training as he did to dancing with strangers.
He was also slightly taller than Kaed, but not by much.
Jayce was, and she’d hate herself for even thinking it, well, perfect. Just as many would say about her being blessed by whoever created her, the same thing could be said about him.
“I’ll be twenty-seven this year.” While she didn’t like lying about her age, especially to Kaed, she didn’t mind doing so with Jayce. Nevertheless, she bit her lip and looked away from him, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.
“You’re aging beautifully. I saw the photo of you with Broan.
It’s as if no time has passed.” He surprised her by spinning her outward and letting go of her hand.
She stumbled into someone, their hands coming to her arms and steadying her.
The music was starting to pick up, shifting to a more upbeat rhythm.
Jayce stepped closer and extended his hand. At this point, she could choose to run, but the playful grin on his face made her throw her head back again, baring her teeth in frustration. “Fine!” She took his hand with a slap, and he pulled her back towards him. This time, their bodies collided.
Jayce moved in stride with the music and returned to his questions, “How did you learn about the Elder Fae’s death?”
“That doesn’t count as a question about me,” she quickly retorted, surprising herself with her response, fueled by the ale flowing through her veins.
“So, it doesn’t count. Besides, it’s my turn for a question.
” His hands rested on her hips, guiding her in rhythm with the music.
“Why are you here tonight, Jayce? I mean, really.”
He leaned down, his head beside hers. “To celebrate your return, like everyone else here.”
“So you do know me?” Her breath caught in her throat at his proximity.