Chapter 14 #2
At last, we were near the edge of the dance floor. Quinn removed his hands from me and swiveled his head.
“I shall locate Lady Winnie for you—”
I cut him off before he could excuse himself, taking hold of his sleeve. I met his eyes again. Only in this lighting could I tell that they were brown; a rich, dark brown like aged whiskey, framed by thick lashes any woman would envy.
For once, he couldn’t read my mind. He tilted his head. “Do you want me to stay?”
I nodded, squeezing the fabric a little tighter. His presence was strangely comforting.
The viscount softened, then returned his hands to me. There was hesitation to it, but he ultimately surrendered to my will with grace.
The song slowed. Quinn placed a hand on my waist while offering the other palm-up, waiting. I accepted, and he drew me into a more traditional frame, always maintaining a space between us.
Our steps were simpler than what I’d shared with Nicolas. Quinn occasionally guided me into a modest turn, his hand releasing mine just long enough for me to spin before catching my fingers again. It was a comfortably predictable dance, steady and rhythmic.
“Would you like a story?” he asked.
I smiled, nodding again. Anything to take my thoughts away from where they were headed.
“When I first met Nic, I was only seven,” Quinn said, leading me into a promenade that brought us side by side for a moment before returning to our facing position.
“He might have been the most pompous, arrogant brat in all the continent, and I didn’t care that he was a prince.
I wanted to teach him a lesson in humility. ”
Two steps forward, one back; a quarter turn that let me glimpse the other dancers before returning my attention to him.
“I challenged him near the stables, out in the field where they trained yearlings. If there’s anything you should know about the prince, it’s that he seldom refuses a chance to prove himself.
We fought it out, rolling about in mud and horse shit, soiling our clothes to the absolute horror of our servants.
Believe it or not, the boy bested me, and I was two years his elder! We were fast friends after that.”
I made a quizzical look. How could it be that such a heated encounter had forged the sort of friendship they shared?
“At first, I saw him only during visits. As he learned to read and write, we exchanged letters. I might still have a few; you should see how terrible his handwriting was.” He smiled distantly and I followed suit, amused by the idea of a tiny Prince Nicolas struggling with a quill.
“It wasn’t until much later that I came to court.
You see, something terrible happened, and the prince needed a friend.
I found myself shipped out with little warning, and quite resentful of it, too.
At sixteen, I was rather fond of Miss Sofia, with every intention of asking for her hand.
We Hadrians are romantic by nature, highly in-touch with our emotions, and in Gallae, people are stoic. ”
As the musicians finished their song, Quinn slowed our movements to a sway, his hands lingering perhaps a moment longer than necessary before he stepped back with a respectful bow. “Let’s catch our breath. Care for a drink?”
Gods, yes.
I held him by the arm, accompanying him up the stairs.
He stopped at the buffet, serving me a glass of some chilled concoction.
I recognized the scent of oranges, but there was something red floating along the orange blossoms that was entirely unfamiliar.
With a sip, I compared the flavor to a sour cherry, though it was a bit tangier.
“I was always fond of swordplay, but I became somewhat of a fanatic, borne of a need to defend my reputation. The Gallaean courtiers thought I was ‘delicate’, and I would not have my culture slandered as weak. I trained with soldiers, though I’d never officially join their ranks, occasionally spending weeks at a time in their camps.
“At the same time, Nic had grown fiery. He always wanted to fight, and swords were the one thing in which I found myself superior. Eventually I trained him, taking the bulk of his hatred and resentment for the world and honing it into the blade.” Quinn smiled at the memory.
“There came a day when that wasn’t enough, and he sought me for confidence.
I was the first person he’d ever opened up to. ”
I wondered what could have happened to make the prince so bitter, but the viscount shook his head.
“In time, he’ll open up to you, too. Nic never put a lot of energy into women, so his attraction to you is difficult for him to navigate.
” Quinn scratched the stubble along his jaw.
“He’s my closest friend. I know how he feels about you.
Don’t question his feelings just because he seeks relief elsewhere; he can’t have you until you’re wed, so he must find other ways. ”
I wasn’t sure how that was supposed to make me feel any better. The tales of enduring romance never spoke of mistresses and courtesans.
“And trust me, my lady, it’s better this way.” He nodded, more to himself than to me. “There’s little awkwardness that can compare to bedding an over-eager virgin. At least he’ll be practiced.”
It struck me as rather unfair that he should be ‘practiced’ while I remained virtuous, but I supposed it was merely one more example of disparity for the books.