Disclaimer: Don't own the Crown Duel, or anything in it's world…especially these characters. Much as I love them and all.
Summary: How different could the final events of the book be, if there had been just one more dance?
Of Be-Ribboned Dancers, Ekirth Rings and Crowns…
Chapter 1-A Misstep
(Meliara's POV)
It was shortly before the second white change, on the night of my party for Nee and Bran when I found myself finally able to sit down at an empty table away from the dancing and pause to catch my breath.
The evening was magnificent so far with the minor exception of the Flauvic incident, and despite all my giddiness at having successfully pulled off such a grand affair in such a short time I couldn't help but feel lonely. I looked at all the couples on the dance floor right now: Bran and Nee, Lady Trishe and her husband, Tamara and Savona…the list went on. I did notice that one couple was significantly absent though. Shevraeth and Elenet. I glanced around the room looking for them, puzzled as to why they weren't dancing. After all, he was to be the new king…and she was his perfect match in every way. Not to mention she loved him.
I found Elenet first, she was sitting amidst many of her close friends…laughing gaily and flitting her fan about, but her eyes did rest on the long-haired blonde man sitting not three tables away, and then they flashed ever so briefly to follow his gaze…suddenly I saw two pairs of eyes trained on me. One gray-blue and female…with the most intense pain mirrored in them that I had ever seen. My eyes must have looked similar when I thought Bran had died. The other pair, a masculine, yet warm inviting silver pair seemed a trifle amused.
This only succeeded in confusing me further, but by then Elenet had turned away and I was left to muddle in my own thoughts.
The only answer that came to my mind was that Shevraeth and Elenet must have had some sort of disagreement. Disagreements with the Marquis…definitely something I could sympathize with.
I motioned for a servant to bring me some wine and moments later I was gulping down the refreshing liquid, and attempting to make sense of tonight's subtle dramas.
Nearly as soon as I had finished my glass I noticed Shevraeth was standing directly opposite me.
"Is this seat open Lady Meliara?" he asked politely
I nodded my assent, and fought to keep my hands from playing nervously with my fan. "What brings you over here?" I asked nervously
"You seemed to be in need of company. And though I do not deny our exchanges in the past have not always been the most friendly ones, I do hope that we can continue to bridge the gap that stands between us." He responded neutrally after taking a seat.
I finally placed my fan on the table to rid myself of the temptation. "I am trying most sincerely to do just that." I returned, still not looking at him, but glad that we were so secluded so that no one could hear us with being in our line of vision. "What confounds me is that I do not seem to be the only woman who has difficulty getting along with you, despite how polite you may be." There was a long pause where he stared intently at me, and I felt my face grow flushed. "That made no sense did it?"
"No, I believe you commented that there is another woman upset in my dealings with her, who pray tell do you speak of?"
For the first time since he sat down I looked directly into his eyes and saw the undeniable truth there…he did not know of Elenet's love for him. In addition to this there had not been an argument between them, otherwise he would not be asking me her name. These thoughts whirled through my mind within moments.
It was not my duty to humiliate Elenet tonight, or at any other time for that matter. How do I pull myself out of this one?
Suddenly all thoughts of Elenet fled from my mind as I noticed out of the corner of my eye an approaching figure clothed in black, gold and white. Flauvic. My nervousness with Shevraeth as nothing compared to how panicky I was now. He wants to ask me to dance with him. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
I looked desperately over at Shevraeth and he moved quickly. He was on his feet between a blink of the eye and in three strides was over by my side, offering his arm to help me up. Even Shevraeth is better than Flauvic.
I took it with relief and he helped me stand (quite the challenge in my elaborate dress). Flauvic was still closing in though, and only one table away, within hearing range. I stood there, attempting to freeze time so I could think.
The only way to avoid dancing this next dance with Flauvic without appearing incredibly rude would be to have Shevraeth dance with me, but for two people to dance more than once together at one ball indicates romantic interest. I had already danced with Shevraeth once. Dancing with Flauvic meant harming my relationship even more though, with the Renselaeuses, not mention Flauvic had insulted Bran and Nee I was not about to dance with him.
So I did the only thing I could,
I chose the lesser of two evils.
"I will never ask you for a favor again, Shevraeth, but please ask me to dance before Flauvic does." I hissed behind my fan, only loud enough for us to hear.
His eyes showed a flash of surprise, and an even more fleeting emotion than that, which I could not place, but nonetheless he bowed briefly and offered me his hand.
"Would you care to dance again Lady Meliara, and attempt to teach a poor dancer some of your tricks?" His eyes as always, crinkled with amusement
I smiled, and looked over his shoulder briefly enough to see Flauvic's eyes burn dangerously for a moment, "I should be honored my lord, however, it is you who shall have to teach me I am afraid." I snapped my fan to my waist after a quick flush of Warm Acception. Then I flushed, realizing that could be taken as flirting. Shevraeth appeared not to have noticed though, as he led me to the dance floor.
Just then I realized how cosmic a disaster it would have been if I danced with Flauvic for this dance, and how it really was not much better that I was dancing with Shevraeth for it. The musicians were changing their music over, and the dancers were attaching ribbons to their finger and wrists. The drums started the dancers ran out, and so the introduction to the love song began, followed shortly by the flute's airy tones and the clashing of finger cymbals.
A random dancer twirled by us and wrapped us in one of the many silver ribbons that various couples now wore. Shevraeth took my waist in one arm, and my right hand in the other, while I wrapped my other arm around his rather tall shoulder, taking care not to muss the fine silver ribbon resting loosely around our waists.
Once the dance was in full force Shevraeth ventured the question I knew was coming.
"Why did you want me to dance with you?" He said softly into my ear when I twirled under his arm so no one could overhear us.
Next we closed in for the clapping part "So that I would not have the misfortune of dancing with a Merindar." I murmured, I was so close to his face when I answered him, that to any observant onlooker who noticed us between the multitudes of dancers or whirling ribbons, we would have looked like we were about to kiss.
Which of course was not the case.
"You do know what this will signify." He returned before we were torn apart briefly and stepped through other dancers, only to be paired up again.
"Yes." I replied simply as we stepped in time together.
He twirled me again, "And you are content with that?"
"Not happy so much," I paused here to fall back into position, "as resigned to the fact that I will have to endure more unfounded gossip."
My partner's eyes went blank on me and he replied just before we were pulled apart again, "Unfounded? Meliara, several people have noticed a steady improvement in our relationship over the last few weeks, and now tonight will make it look like we are involved. That is not entirely unfounded."
My thoughts jumped when I heard him address me as "Meliara" it was the first time he had not preceded it with "Lady" or some other, similar title. I was about to retort to this, but something about the way he said my name made it sound magical.
He continued on with some other comments, but I did not really listen because I was preoccupied. Only when he asked me a question did I break out of my reverie.
"Is it alright if I call you Meliara now, or would you prefer to stick to titles?"
I blushed, realizing I had been dwelling on just that. "Fine, perfectly fine."
We circled in silence for awhile as the dance demanded, eyes locked in what seemed like a battle of the wills. In reality I was mystified by his gray eyes, there was something about them that prevented me from turning away.
The music intensified for the end of the dance, which involved him lifting me in the air (as gracefully and effortlessly as when we riding to Remalna-City) and then me twirling out to the end of our connected arms' lengths only to spin dizzyingly back into his arms, and thus concluding it when a huge cymbal clash and drum roll.
Except when my feet touched the ground again after he put me down my momentum carried me faster than I anticipated, making me dizzy when combined with the wine I'd partaken of earlier.
So, when I spun back in it was faster too, but my ever-graceful partner caught me without incident, I looked up into his eyes again, expecting to see condescension for my lack of dancing skills, but there was none there.
We were so close to each other at that moment I could smell the fresh scent in his hair that reminded me of meadows after a downpour. The ribbons fluttered down around us, but we barely noticed. I seemed drawn to him, as if by magic and our faces moved closer and closer. Suddenly it dawned on me that we were close enough to kiss. And for some bizarre reason, that didn't phase me. His hands already circled my waist and his lips were nearing mine…my eyes fluttered closed. His long hair brushed against my cheek and I could feel his breath on mine. The scent of fresh rain and clean sandsoap enveloped me, it was intoxicating.
My mind barely registered that fact that the dance was long over and no doubt people would be staring. "I believe you still owe me a kiss." He murmured before brushing his lips over mine. The tingling sensation followed and I shivered in pleasure.
Finally my mind let go, and instinct took over, I grasped his head and pulled his lips onto mine, deepening the kiss. My head swam. Tingles akin to starbursts flew up and down my body.
A deep crash broke us apart, and I saw regret in his eyes ever so briefly before we turned to the source.
Savona and Flauvic were standing glaring at each other. Flauvic had somehow managed to bring a sword into the party with nobody noticing. A nearby table had been knocked over and the musicians had halted abruptly. Thankfully due to the scene between two of Remalna's greatest scions nobody had noticed the interlude between the Marquis and me. My lips still tingled and the thought.
I noticed with regret that Shevraeth had left my side and was advancing on the men. "Swords, even play ones are not tolerated on guests at parties." Savona hissed.
Flauvic looked slightly annoyed, and flashed a brief glance in my direction, the loathing in his gaze was evident. So at least one person had seen us. Savona shared a quick glance with Shevraeth, indicating he too had seen us. The marquis's shoulders relaxed slightly with their wordless exchange. So Savona started the scene as a diversion, and it became dangerous. How did Flauvic get that sword in?
My thoughts were interrupted by Shevraeth's clear-cut voice with not the slightest hint of courtly drawl. It brought to mind a military-commander's voice nearly.
"My Lord Flauvic, what is your explanation for interrupting the peace and insulting our guests of honor and our beautiful hostess?" He made an unintelligible and quick hand motion.
Flauvic's mask was now firmly in place, "My misunderstanding dear cousin, I thought we were bidden to come in as accurate a costume as possible." He said smoothly, but everyone knew it was a lie. I sensed that Flauvic was angry at having been exposed like this, but I could not figure out why. He never seemed to care what the others thought of him, why should breaking an unspoken rule of etiquette agitate him so?
The Marquis's grey eyes, hard as polished steel had not left him since we parted, and before I knew what was happening a clumsy servant from the loft above accidentally dropped a rather heavy tray directly onto the crowd below.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion, Savona noticed and slide away just in time, but Flauvic's pride demanded he not break his gaze with Shevraeth, and so it came smashing down on his head, knocking him clean to the floor with a loud clang.
Savona jumped in and pushed the tray aside, "My lord is unconscious! We need a stretcher!" he bellowed. Nobody seemed to notice in all the commotion as Savona removed the sword from Flauvic's grip and handed it off to an innocuous servant who looked suspiciously like a member of Nessaren's riding from my traipse across the country last year. More servants, no doubt of Renslaeus affliation appeared out of nowhere to remove the fallen noble. Savona selflessly volunteered to see him back to his house.
Nimiar, the poor soul, still had a face as white as snow, but let out an audible sigh of relief when they removed Flauvic from the room. At this point nobody seemed to know what to do.
Bran saved us, "Well thank goodness! I was beginning to worry I might be caught with my dagger…" he gave a nervous smile to Nee, who shook her head.
I knew Bran had no dagger-even at the few parties we had in Tlanth no one ever brought weapons, it as an unspoken rule there too-everyone knew he had no dagger, but it served to break the silence and people began milling again, not quite with the same gusto as before though.
I let out my breath I did not know I'd been holding, Shevraeth turned to look at me with an incalculable expression. He walked a few steps to me, and took my hands in his, surprisingly I did not object. "I regret to say that I must leave earlier than intended." He said placatingly.
Part of me sank, even though I knew he must leave, "Cannot Savona deal with him?" I asked in what I hoped was a neutral voice, as the emotions were flying too thick and fast for even me to make sense of them.
"I do not know if you noticed Meliara, but Flauvic did not enter with that sword." He said
"Which means someone else slipped it to him-" I started
"-Or that I severely underestimated him." The Marquis said with a trace of weariness and something else.
"How could you? You know nearly everything that happens." I protested
"He spent years in a foreign court and I think he learned more than just mere pagework and swordsmanship."
I sucked in my breath, there was only one other reason young noblemen went abroad…
"Surely not-" I interrupted myself. The bouquet of flowers…
"Shevraeth, weeks ago he showed me an illusionary bouquet of flowers. You don't think?" I stopped short unable to finish my sentence. If my guess was right, and I was sure that it was, it would mean we were all in serious trouble, there was not a single person to combat him.
He stared at me for a split second, as if calculating. "I do, Flauvic learned magic abroad. That was a conjured sword, not doubt to intimidate Savona. I must go confer with him immediately and find proof." He turned away to leave
"What about me? What should I do?" I blurted feeling like a child left behind at home when the rest went out for fun.
He paused again and played with his gloves as if his thoughts disturbed him. Unnecessary actions on his part were so rare. "You cannot leave your own party early, people would talk more than they are already going to. We were lucky with Savona's ruse to spare you from unfounded gossip as it was. When the party is over, come to my study if you are not too tired." With that he disappeared.
I flopped into the nearest chair, the night which promised to be so brilliant for me had been ruined. I wanted to be happy for Bran and Nee, I wanted to ruminate on what Shevraeth's kiss meant, I wanted to sit with a cup of sweet chocolate and write to my Unknown then collapse of my fluffy bed. None of this would happen though, not after Flauvic ruined it all.
Suddenly I was furious with Flauvic, for destroying Bran and Nee's happiness with his own selfish frivolity and ambitions. They never wanted a throne or power, just to be happy and he ruined their night. I grabbed the abandoned wine glass next to me and downed it, sincerely hoping that guests would dissipate soon and Bran and Nee weren't too upset.
I started to play with my fan when I realized my being anti-social would draw more attention to the situation. So I steeled myself and stood up to face my guests and pretend nothing was wrong.
Perhaps there was something to be said for that courtly mask after all…