Page 124 of The King's Man
I was about to call retreat, preparing to give the soft whistle to get Hever’s attention on the other side of the crowd—we had no interest in Yilan’s mating ritual beyond how it might prove to Melek that she wasn’t the mate he’d thought she was.
But as I took in the breath to give the signal, something flashed in my peripheral vision. My head instinctively turned and I caught sight of a woman dancing next to Yilan, and once again, my body betrayed me.
In this light her hair appeared to be a warm brown, loose and swaying well below her shoulders. She was draped in a white sheath that was little more than a nightdress—a wide, gathered neckline that tied over her breasts leaving a tantalizing V of skin revealed between them. The fabric fluttered and swayed as she moved, and had I been any less of a soldier, I would have thought her entranced by the dance.
But her eyes…
I couldn’t see their color from this distance, but as she and Yilan turned in the dance, the wary glint sharpened and I caught her, swaying as if into the dance, but in truth, moving to give herself the visual sweep of the nearby crowd.
She didn’t dance. She watched over Yilan.
A covert guard?
Suddenly, the flatness of her shoulders, the strong line of her neck, and the definition in her arms no longer suggested a servant’s strength, but an athlete’s refinement.
Without thought, my gaze dragged down her body, watching as the fabric sucked against her skin, then lifted and fluttered in the passage of her movement, then pressed to her warmth again—a healthy body. Lithe and lean… but strong.
An assassin? Or a bodyguard? A lady in waiting… to kill any man who overstepped?
The drums picked up again, and the watching men leaned in as the crowd of women eased back to form a hedge between them and the dancers.
Everything looked so harmless. And yet…
As Yilan and her watcher continued their graceful glide and turned around the bonfire, my hackles rose.
I’d underestimated these people with their strict uniforms and corseted dresses, their self-important pomposity, striding around their castle grounds like ants—hard-working, but seemingly unaware of the wider world that passed them by.
I was a fool. Blinded by their apparent fear, convinced the only reason they remained safe through the generations was the supernatural darkness that guarded their land.
But it was time to reassess. Perhaps Yilan’s intelligence and cunning hadn’t been unique among her people. Looking at this near-tribal display—and now listening to the men, their deep baritones and basses replying with a rhythmichungh-ah, hungh-ahto the women’s songs as the tension in the clearing climbed higher and something deep within me responded…
Perhaps the Fetch were more than mere spies and tricksters, after all.
Perhaps this people were far more skilled at hiding their true nature than I’d believed when I’d emerged from those fucking shadows, looking for wicked assassins and sorcerers, only to find puritanical bullshit armies, instead.
I’d been so disappointed on our arrival.
Perhaps I had been too quick to judge?
Yilan and her innocent looking dancer passed smoothly out of sight—as smoothly as these thoughts passed through my mind. I bit back the ache in my body as I mentally calculated how best to reassess.
Until the swaying circles returned the women to their original places, and suddenly the pair was back.
And my eyes would not leave her.
The fire behind her glowed through that thin garment, lighting the form of her body beneath it even when the fabric billowed, and my breath shortened.
Her eyes seemed downcast if you didn’t look closely. But I did. And I saw that sharp gaze checking Yilan, following her progress, assessing the nearest men and the positions of the dancers and other women.
Yet, even though her mind clearly stayed on her charge, her body rippled into the dance and dried my mouth.
Undulating, provocative, intentionally suggestive. She moved like a woman who knew her power and enjoyed it.
She moved like a woman unashamed of her body—and confident in its capability.
She moved like a cat that could so casually wrap a gentle tail around your leg, then bury sharp fangs in your unsuspecting hand.
I was lost for minutes, drifting in that dance with her as the drums shifted again and the women rolled their heads.
