Page 29 of The Sunbound Princess
Bel followed her progress before giving Dain a mild look. “I think you have an admirer.”
He grunted. Faint color touched his cheekbones as he pulled a tankard toward him and took a long pull.
Chuckling, I followed suit. The ale was delicious—cool and sweeter than any I’d tasted before—and I quickly drained it. Moments later, the redheaded barmaid appeared with another round.
“Thirsty tonight, are we?” she asked, setting a plate of cakes next to the tankards. She offered Dain a conspiratorial smile. “These are on the house, too,” she murmured as she turned away.
I opened my mouth?—
“Not a word,” Dain growled, lanternlight reflected in his pupils.
Bel laughed. As the three of us ate and drank, the musicians launched into a song with bawdy lyrics. Most of the patrons clapped along. A few put their fingers to their lips and whistled. Others shoved chairs and tables out of the way and began to dance.
The opportunity was too tempting to pass up. Excusing myself, I rose and slinked into the crowd, my gaze focused and my fingers light. The musicians continued playing, their lyrics growing filthier. The patrons sang along, clapping and stomping their feet. The tune was one played in taverns throughout Saldu, and I found myself joining the song.
Dancers spun around me. The ale sang in my veins, heating my blood and lifting my voice. A woman in a red velvet gown drifted closer to me, her eyes bright with merriment.
“Your voice is lovely!” she exclaimed, clapping with the beat of the music. After a second, she beckoned to others around us. “Listen to him!”
Several patrons turned, and then I was surrounded by merchants and farmers urging me to sing. With the ale making my head buzz pleasantly, I obliged them, raising my voice over the fiddles and the drum. The next set of lyrics were particularly indecent, and the crowd roared with laughter as I belted them out.
Across the tavern, Dain tapped his toe with the beat, a soft smile on his face. Even Bel seemed entertained, her golden eyes fixed on me under her hood.
“Another verse!” someone shouted. The musicians played louder. Ale flowed faster. The tavern thumped with the beat of the drums. I grabbed the hand of a barmaid, spinning her in a circle before passing her to a burly farmer who caught her with a grin.
The music swelled, and I moved from partner to partner until I ended up beside Dain and Bel. She squeaked as I tugged her to her feet.
“I don’t dance!” she protested, one hand on the edge of her hood.
“The whole tavern is drunk,” I said, twirling her away from the table. “I promise you’re the best dancer here.”
She clung to my shoulders, her skirts swinging. And she was a liar, Bel of the Summer Court, because she matched my steps with ease, her gaze locked with mine. The hint of a sparkle glimmered in her golden irises, which were brighter than any of the coins I’d stolen. The scent of jasmine teased my nose. Bel’s skirts brushed my legs. Her palm was warm on my shoulder, her heat sinking through my clothes to singe my skin.
But it was a sweet burn. The floor vibrated. So did the walls. I vibrated, too, my body like a tuning fork as I spun Bel over theboards. The noisy tavern faded, leaving only pink lips and a pair of golden eyes fringed with thick, dark lashes.
“You’re staring,” Bel said, boldly holding my gaze.
“Hard not to,” I said, holding hers right back. I slid my hand to her trim waist, and it was just as hot as the rest of her.
The musicians finished the song and began another, the rhythm slower this time. Bel tightened her grip on my shoulder as I guided her toward our table. Her hood slipped an inch, revealing the tip of her pointed ear. I quickly tugged it back into place, my fingers brushing her silky hair.
“Thank you,” she murmured as we arrived beside a smiling Dain.
Pitching my voice low I pulled out her chair. “I can’t have you exposed in a tavern full of humans. Although, I suspect half are too drunk to notice.”
“And the other half?” she asked, sitting.
“Too busy watching me dance.”
She laughed—a real one that wrinkled her nose and made her eyes shine brighter than the lanterns.
Dain sat back in his chair, his thick arms folded over his chest as he gave me a long-suffering look. “It’s a pity you’re so shy.”
Bel’s laughter warmed me as much as the ale. The redheaded barmaid returned, delivering more tankards and another plate of cakes.
“These are delicious,” Bel declared, polishing off a second. “I didn’t expect human food to taste this good.”
I clinked my tankard against hers. “To unexpected discoveries.”
