Chapter Twenty #3
I do not know how to depict the feelings that his words bring me.
Draven clears his throat. “What I wanted you to try tonight is a type of meat. It is from a cow that Merie and her mate have created. A blood cow. You cannot get the meat anywhere else but from here. It is my favorite food.”
As soon as he finishes, Merie rushes toward our table with a tray holding two glasses of dark crimson blood and two plates of an extremely rare looking steak.
“I do hope you enjoy it, my lady.”
“You can just call me Solene,” I say with a smile. “I know I will, it smells amazing.”
She blushes as she bows at the waist, then leaves to tend to the next table.
I pick up my fork and knife and cut into the piece of meat. The knife moves through it like a stick of butter. I look up at Draven in awe. He has his arm propped up on the table, chin resting in his palm, watching me.
I finish cutting and take a small piece, placing into my mouth. As I start to chew, the meat immediately melts on my tongue, the rich flavors flooding my taste buds. I groan.
Draven looks at me with his eyebrows raised, smiling.
“Okay, this is pretty amazing.”
His hand comes down, hitting the table. “I told you,” he says with boyish excitement.
People at the surrounding tables turn toward us in alarm. We both look at each other and spring into a fit of laughter as they turn back around and continue their meal.
Draven smirks as he starts to eat his steak. Too caught up in the meal to speak, we eat in silence until we are finished. I eat the entire piece of meat and have to stop myself from licking the plate clean.
This is the first meal I have eaten without feeling apprehensive or ashamed of who I am now.
“Me and my mother used to come here at least once a week for dinner. I still try to come as often as I can, but it is harder to leave the castle these days.”
I smile at the thought of a younger Draven eating this for the first time and deciding that it will be his favorite.
“I can imagine it is,” I say.
Merie comes over, collecting our plates and glasses.
“That was the best thing I have ever eaten,” I tell her.
“Oh, it means the world coming from you guys,” she says.
Draven stands up, giving her another hug.
“Do not worry about payment, it is on me,” she says as he releases her.
“Absolutely not.”
He bends forward, shoving multiple bills into her apron. It looks like triple the amount the meal cost and maybe even more.
She pinches his cheek once again. “Please do not be a stranger, I miss your sweet face. You look more like her as each year passes, you know.”
Silver rims the bottoms of her eyes.
He nods in agreement. “I will try to come more often. I think you have a new customer anyways.”
She glances at me and walks over. I bend my knees just a bit as she pulls me into a tight hug. She smells like the first day of spring.
As we start to walk down the street, I stop as I hear the faint hint of music. Noticing my interest, Draven begins to walk us in the direction it is coming from. As we get closer, the tune becomes clearer, the sound of it mesmerizing.
We pass through an alleyway, stepping into what looks the central square of the town. There is a band playing in the center and people all around dancing and talking amongst one another. The only way to describe it being that it looks like one big street party.
“This is very… cute,” I say honestly.
“Yeah, I guess it is, isn’t it?” He looks down at me, watching as I continue to look around.
The music begins to pick up and the people dancing follow suit. They are all doing the same dance, perfectly in sync.
“Would you like to dance with me?” Draven asks.
He holds his hand out in front of us, ready for me to grab. I look down at it, then back up to him.
“I do not know how.”
“You do not need to know how when you have a partner as skilled as me,” he says with a wink.
I put my hands up. “Oh, excuse me. I did not know that you spend your free time swooning the ladies of Vryko with your dance moves.”
Under my words lies a vulnerable question I would be too afraid to ask.
He tips his head back and laughs. I roll my eyes and reach down to grab his hand, interlacing our fingers together. He moves us forward, guiding us into an empty spot in the middle of the crowd.
When we stop, he raises our interlaced hands up and out to the side of us, looking at them intently. His eyes soften at the sight.
“I do not want to swoon anyone. Just you,” he says.
Then we start moving.
Draven guides us through each motion. I look around nervously at the people around us, but nobody is watching. He does not seem to care anyways.
I step on his toes more times than I can count, apologizing each time, but he just smiles. Insisting that I am not hurting him, even when he winces.
I am hyperaware of his hands splayed out comfortably across my back, steady and warm. Each finger sending an electric spark through me as he presses his hand firm against my back, pulling me closer. We spend many minutes like this, as I slowly start to get the hang of the rhythm.
He leads me out to the side, turning me once, then twice. I stumble on the way back in, dizzy as I fall into his chest.
The music ends and another song begins.
Leaning my head up against his chest, I look up at him and start to laugh. It is a belly laugh that is unrestrained and real. A kind of laugh I have not heard from my lips, in many months.
I hear Draven suck in a breath, his eyes wide with an unreadable expression. Then, he begins to smile.
I jolt up, standing in front of him. “What is wrong?”
“Your eyes. They are brown.”
I raise my hand to my face slowly, my fingers landing on my cheek as if I want to graze my eyes and welcome them back.
No more looking into the mirror and seeing red. I can look and see a piece of my mother, instead.
I look up at him and smile as tears threaten to spill over. I blink them away.
He stares back at me, his features once again showing no hint toward any emotion he is feeling.
“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” he says simply.
I feel heat running up my neck and toward my cheeks as his words catch me off guard. How confidently he stated them, almost as if it was more of a fact than a compliment.
I open my mouth, but before I get to respond, another song starts to play. He grabs my hand, wrapping his arm around me as we begin to move again.
I do not know how long we spend out in the square. As time passes, the people around us slowly start to leave, until we are the only ones left. The band stops playing music and packs up, eventually leaving themselves.
But we still keep dancing, even without any music.
The warmth in my chest begins to burn brighter. The weight pressing down, feeling less heavy.