Wingborn (Wingborn 1)

Chapter 10: Midsummer, Part 3

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WINCING AFTER A particularly clumsy romp with a young lord whose name she'd already forgotten, Mhysra limped back to her table. Her father was busy with an acquaintance, her mother similarly engaged across the room, while Milluqua was dancing with Lieutenant Lyrai.

Dreaming of the moment when she could take her shoes off, Mhysra watered down her wine and took a sip, thinking she ought to eat something. She wasn't hungry, but the night was barely half done, so getting drunk probably wasn't a good idea. Except she would have to get up if she wanted to visit the food table. Her feet throbbed. She couldn't bear to put weight on them yet.

"Evening, my lady. May I join you?"

She looked up and smiled at Stirla. "Please do, sir. My sister won't mind."

"She's a popular partner," he said, sitting down. "I don't think she's sat out a single set."

"She likes to dance."

He smiled at the understatement and poured a glass of wine, eyes widening as he tasted it. "You have better stuff on this side of the room."

Mhysra laughed, no longer feeling the need to perform for the strangers looking down their noses at the gangly country girl. Lieutenant Stirla knew her and she liked him. "I'd say you're enjoying yourselves more."

They looked at the far tables where a raucous toast was going on. "Savages." He grinned.

She wished she could sit with them. There was no pretence with the Riders. They'd been granted an evening off and were taking full advantage of it. She wished she could do the same.

"I suppose your sister will get married soon," Stirla said, staring at Milluqua as she skipped around Lieutenant Lyrai. They made a striking couple; her darkness complimenting his light. "Probably to some high lord or prince."

"My parents are very ambitious," Mhysra agreed, wondering for the first time how much say her sister would have over her own future.

Stirla's smile was self-deprecating. "My parents are wool farmers."

She smiled back, feeling sorry for him. "You'll make a fine captain, sir."

He nodded towards the floor. "I believe this is our dance." When she cast a disgusted glance towards her slippers, he chuckled. "Or we could sit it out and have something to eat instead."

"A damn fine captain," she said, and he rolled his eyes as he left to fetch food for them both.

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AS DANCES WENT, Lyrai mused while waltzing with Lady Mhysra, it wasn't the worst he'd experienced. Some conversation might have been nice, but it was difficult to talk to one's partner when she was watching her feet so intently. Not that he minded the quiet; he was fond of this piece of music and the orchestra played to perfection.

Despite her nerves, Lady Mhysra danced surprisingly well. Considering her age and height, she was graceful. Nothing like the beauty of movement that set her sister apart from everyone else, but for a young lady not fully grown, she did well. Years of flight gave her excellent balance and her natural rhythm made her a good partner. He was almost enjoying himself.

Until the music stopped, she stepped on his foot and someone tapped a glass.

"Sorry," she whispered, as he helped her regain her balance.

Lyrai looked around the quiet room, saw his father standing at the top table and froze. "It's all right," he said, wishing he was back at the Rider tables. He felt exposed out here on the dance floor. Vulnerable.