Page 43 of A Rose Among Snakes

The room fell quiet as King Leoro rose to his feet.

“Gentlemen, what is the meaning of this?”

The men continued their dance around each other, refusing to look away.

“Come. Out with it.” The king’s tone was patient, but his words held authority.

“The lady promised me another dance, buthewouldn’t let her go.” The man who spoke was the first one Kezara had danced with wearing a dark green jacket.

“She told me she wanted to continue withme,” the blond man opposite the one in green retorted.

Seeming amused, King Leoro sat back in his seat, resting his elbows on the wooden arms of the throne and steepling his fingers in front of his face.

“Well, gentlemen, I believe this calls for a duel. Whoever disarms the other first gets to continue their dance with the young lady, so long as she approves.” He looked at Kezara and threw her a sparkling grin. Next to him, Leoran was seething, his fists clenched in his lap. The blonde woman’s face was blank, if not verging on bored.

“Keep it civil, gents. I want to see a fair duel. Disarming only,” King Leoro added.

The men were still moving in a circle as the rest of the guests watched eagerly but kept their distance.

I leaned behind Kezara’s head to whisper to Velian, “What is happening?”

He moved closer and said, “A duel. If someone is challenged to a duel they cannot deny it, and they have to respect the outcome. It’s the law in Clavo.”

Only men would think a duel was the proper way to settle a disagreement.

The man in green lunged first, and the blond man parried. Kezara leaned into me and smiled the entire time. I wondered if she was hoping Leoran would see the irony; two men were willing to fight over her for a dance, yet Leoran wouldn’t take a stand for their love.

The men went back and forth for several minutes, grunting with each lunge, their clanging swords echoing around the near-silent room. When their fighting brought them too close to the crowd there would be grumbling and squealing ladies dodging out of the way. Their routine of lunge, parry, lunge, parry continued until the blond man lifted his sword high above his head. He quickly brought his arms down, but the man in green feinted to the side and the swinging sword made contact with the ground. Unprepared, the blond man stumbled a step, giving the man in green the opportunity he needed. With a cry, he slammed his blade down on the hilt of his opponent’s sword and it tumbled to the floor, clattering on the marble. The man in green cheered as his opponent dropped his head in defeat. Kezara clapped her hands and soon the rest of the audience joined in.

King Leoro stood, clapping as he smiled genially. “Well done! An honorable effort, but the best man has won.”

Everyone continued cheering as the man in green bowed and beamed at the king, basking in the praise, while the blond man picked up his sword and sulked off. The king raised his hand signaling for silence.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, citizens of Terrune and Etheniar. We thank you for your attendance this evening. We have much to celebrate, and it is my pleasure, along with King Avir and Queen Eselle, to share this news with you—Terrune and Etheniar will be united by the marriage of Prince Leoran and Princess Davony!”

A thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd and Davony smiled, waving a dainty hand, while Leoran continued to glower at the man in green. I glanced at Kezara and found her jutting her chin out, her classic display of defiance. Velian and I shared a worried glance before turning our attention back to the king.

“Leoran and Davony will now share a dance.” The king gestured to his son to stand up. Like a pouting child, Leoran got to his feet and offered a stiff hand to Davony, not looking at her or even attempting to mask his distaste.

The music began playing again and the king said, “Let the festivities resume!” He returned to his seat, watching his son dance with his betrothed. Leoran did not look at Davony but kept staring at Kezara, who continued to avert her gaze.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“We should get you something to eat,” Velian said to Kezara.

She did not object and we led her toward the back of the room, settling her in an upholstered chair against the wall. Velian flagged down a servant with a tray, grabbed some food, and brought it back to us.

“Here,” he said, placing a slice of bread slathered in an orange paste in her outstretched palm. She stuffed it in her mouth and asked for another, batting her eyelashes at Velian until he went in search of more. A servant with a tray of sparkling wine walked by and Kezara’s face lit up as she reached her hand out, but I grabbed her arm and pulled it back.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

She stuck her lower lip out. “No fun, Mihrra. The evening is only starting.”

“You’ve been having plenty of fun. Probably more than anyone else in this room.”

“I think you’ve been having fun, too. I saw you and Velian dancing.” She poked me in the arm, and added in a sing-song voice, “I knewyou would.”

“He was just being polite.” But I remembered how close our faces had been before we were interrupted, and I hoped Kezara wouldn’t notice my cheeks heating up.

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