Rebel's Honor(36)

"It's a ball, Lynx. Not a recital."

Her eyes darted to him and then back to the minstrels. "I've never heard  anything so . . . Well, nothing quite like it. How do you dance to a-?"

"Like this."

Lukan slid one arm around her, trailing his fingers down her back. She  tensed, then relaxed into his touch. Encouraged, he slithered his hand  to her hip. With a possessive tug, he pulled her toward him until their  bodies were almost, but not quite, touching. His right hand found hers,  and he linked their fingers together.

Her body was still stiffer than he liked. She also seemed unsure of what  to do with her other hand, letting it dangle at her side.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Hold my hip like I'm holding  yours. And keep your feet away from my boots. I'll do the rest."

She hesitated, and then her fingers touched his trousers, slung low on his narrow hips.

A cloud of butterflies looped through his stomach. He caught her  scent-the clean, crisp smell of soap and water, refreshing in its  plainness after the heavily perfumed atmosphere. He longed to bury his  face in her neck, to drink her in. But it was way too soon for that.

Time to dance.

Lukan caught the music on an up beat and swept her to the middle of the  floor. Tao and Kestrel followed. He danced in silence until they had  done a full circuit of the ballroom, then other couples joined them on  the dance floor. No longer the center of attention, he leaned into her  and tried some small talk.

"So what music do you listen to in Norin?"

"Lively music. Not . . . death stuff, like this. We like to celebrate when we dance."

"Oh, so this doesn't seem like a celebration to you?" Lukan sensed her  hesitation, and he smiled, deciding to be magnanimous. "Don't bother  answering. How did you enjoy your first hunt?"

Lynx took a moment to reply. "I loved the ride. But I'm more of a plains girl. Forests don't set my heart on fire."

"That's unfortunate. Most of our leisure time is spent in the forest.  When we're not dancing to sad music, of course." He let his hand trail  up her back, caressing her through her corset.

Lynx squirmed, and her breasts brushed against his chest, igniting his heart. He pulled away before she felt it galloping.

Fighting to keep his voice steady, he asked, "So you like riding?"

"Yes, but not sidesaddle."

"I noticed." The idea of Axel leering at her legs made him scowl. "You  have a way of turning the established order on its head." Instantly  regretting that, he forced his face to relax; Lynx must not see anger in  his eyes. He tried again with an attempt to get her talking about  herself. Women liked that. "Tell me about your other passions."

She laughed self-consciously. "You can't be serious?"

"Put another way, what do you do with your time when you're not riding  horses?" As he said it, he remembered that she was a raider. Raiders  existed to track and kill imperial guardsmen. That's what gave them  their wild, ferocious reputation.

It brought her role in the Dmitri Curse back into full focus.

Lukan mentally kicked himself for that reminder. As he cast about for a  new topic of discussion, he saw Axel, unmistakable even in a mask,  dancing next to them with his sister, Malika. No mask had yet been made  to hide Malika's explosion of raven-black hair. Her head rested on  Axel's shoulder, and he whispered something in her ear. Probably his  plans for stealing Lynx. They both laughed . . . and Lynx stumbled.                       
       
           



       

Startled, Lukan looked down at her. She was staring at Axel, her eyes disbelieving.

Then, he understood.

Even after Felix's name game, Lynx wouldn't know Malika was Axel's  sister. With a sapphire next to her eye, Lynx must have thought Malika  was just some high-born. Now she clearly assumed Malika to be Axel's  girlfriend. And she didn't like it. Not one bit.

The stab of jealousy-and rage-that pierced Lukan was breathtaking.

He stiffened, and it took all his self-control to maintain his regal  bearing. Even then, his voice was sharper than usual. "Come on, Lynx,"  he demanded, "it wasn't that long ago you were in Norin. You can't have  forgotten what you liked to do."

Lynx tore her eyes away from Axel and his sister. "I-I love music, and I play a few instruments."

Lukan twirled them to the opposite side of the ballroom, away from Axel.  Ostensibly avoiding a steely-eyed knife-thrower entertaining a small  crowd of onlookers, he pulled her even closer to his chest. But he  didn't trust himself to speak, so they danced in silence. Lynx cleared  her throat a couple of times, but whatever was on her mind, she kept it  to herself.

Finally calm enough to risk speaking, he said, "Your uncle delivered a  musical instrument here for you. A stringed thing that looks like a lute  gone wrong."

Lynx sighed, and he wondered if it was relief due to the arrival of her  instrument or the thaw in the conversation. "It's called a fiddle, and  it's nothing like a lute. We've played them in Norin for centuries, long  before Thurban invaded."

Lukan's flawless dancing faltered, and he missed a step. Why did she  have to bring up Thurban? Was she familiar with the Dmitri Curse? There  was no way of knowing, given that the very mention of the word Dmitri by  a Chenayan subject resulted in death.

Lynx didn't comment about his fumble, but her hand drifted away from his  hip to her hair, her fingers twirling as if she were searching for a  particular lock. Her hand jolted her mask. Lukan pulled it back in  place, noticing her hand did not return to holding him.

He blamed Axel for that.

Lynx finally spoke. "Lukan, I've decided I hate masked balls. What do  you think Count Felix would say if we ditched these silly things?"

With Lynx's attraction for Axel messing with his mood, the last thing he  wanted right now was to lose the protection of his mask. Keeping his  voice light, he said, "As my soon-to-be crown princess, you're supposed  to set an example, not a new trend."

"Pity. I seem to be particularly good at starting new trends."

Even though he heard a smile in her voice, he changed the subject. "Is your fiddle playing any good?"

A harlequin leading a bear by a chain moved past them, drawing away  Lynx's attention. He nudged her, pulling her back to him. It irked that  he had to. The evening wasn't going well.

"I'll leave you to judge that, Lukan. Someday I may play for you."

"You can play tonight during the dinner break. I instructed my valet to place the fiddle in one of the reception rooms."

Lynx's mouth opened, then closed.

Taking advantage of her uncertainty-was she surprised at how personable he could be?-he asked, "What else did you do today?"

"I met Tao's falcon, and he sent her to hunt. I can't believe she came back. But she did."

This line of conversation had potential, so he danced her over to a  quieter section of the ballroom. "Why do you suppose she does?"

"Training, I suppose. That's what Tao said. But, to be honest, I can't  see why she would come back to be a prisoner on some man's arm."

Lukan hesitated, then took a deep breath before saying, "Maybe it's because she loves him."

"Do wild creatures love like that?" she asked doubtfully.

He wondered if she had guessed his double meaning yet. "I don't know,  Lynx. You're the panther, you tell me. What does it take to bring in an  unfettered girl who bows to no authority?"

Lynx jerked away from him. "I thought we were talking about Tao's falcon."

"The same principle applies, I think."

Lynx was silent for a moment. "Love and respect. Tao loves and respects Bird enough to give her freedom."

"But Tao still keeps her in a mews at night and only lets her fly when  it suits him," Lukan said triumphantly. "Is that your idea of love?"

His words made Lynx's blue eyes chill. "Hardly. Four hundred years ago,  Thurban found out that it's impossible to own a Norin, no matter how  many cages you wrap around them. We will always follow our own star. The  best you can do is to hope you've pinned your heart to the same  constellation."                       
       
           



       

The blood rushed from Lukan's face. "And-and what constellation are you following, Lynx?"

"A Norin will never bow to the Dragon."

So much for Lynx being pliable. But then, he shouldn't have expected  anything less from a rabid Norin. The Dragon constellation had held the  northern point in the sky since Thurban conquered her country; that's  why Chenaya's first emperor had chosen the Dragon as his crest and his  religion. It was a constant reminder to the Norin that they had lost and  the Avanovs had won. To worship the Dragon was to acknowledge that  victory.