Had I been downstairs among the glittering throng, I would have loved it, but I now had Shevraeth standing right beside me, holding out his arm. I just I would manage to do something embarrassing.
I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and tried my best to smooth my face into a polite smile as I put my hand on his sleeve.
Just before we started down, he murmured, "Think of this as a battle."
"A battle?" I repeated, so surprised I actually looked up at his face. He didn't look angry, or disgusted, or sarcastic. But there was suppressed laughter in the way his gray eyes were narrowed.
He replied so softly I could just barely hear it. "You've a sword in your hand, and vast numbers of ravening minions of some dreaded evil sorcerer await below. The moment you step among them, you'll leap into battle, mowing them down in droves…"
The absolute unlikelihood of it made me grin, on the verge of laughter. And I realized that while he'd spoken we had come safely down the stairs and were halfway along the huge room to the Duke of Savona, who waited alone. On either side people bowed and curtsied, as graceful as flowers in the wind.
I'd almost made it, and my smile was real--until I lost the image and remembered where I was, and who I was with, and I muttered defensively, "I don't really like battles, you know."
"Of course I know," he returned, still in that soft voice. "But you're used to them." And then we were before Savona, who was resplendent in black and crimson and gold; and as the Duke bowed, fanfare after fanfare washed over me like waves of brilliant light. Because Shevraeth was also a guest of honor, and had the highest rank, it was his choice for the first dance, and he held out his hand to me.
I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and tried my best to smooth my face into a polite smile as I put my hand on his sleeve.
Just before we started down, he murmured, "Think of this as a battle."
"A battle?" I repeated, so surprised I actually looked up at his face. He didn't look angry, or disgusted, or sarcastic. But there was suppressed laughter in the way his gray eyes were narrowed.
He replied so softly I could just barely hear it. "You've a sword in your hand, and vast numbers of ravening minions of some dreaded evil sorcerer await below. The moment you step among them, you'll leap into battle, mowing them down in droves…"
The absolute unlikelihood of it made me grin, on the verge of laughter. And I realized that while he'd spoken we had come safely down the stairs and were halfway along the huge room to the Duke of Savona, who waited alone. On either side people bowed and curtsied, as graceful as flowers in the wind.
I'd almost made it, and my smile was real--until I lost the image and remembered where I was, and who I was with, and I muttered defensively, "I don't really like battles, you know."
"Of course I know," he returned, still in that soft voice. "But you're used to them." And then we were before Savona, who was resplendent in black and crimson and gold; and as the Duke bowed, fanfare after fanfare washed over me like waves of brilliant light. Because Shevraeth was also a guest of honor, and had the highest rank, it was his choice for the first dance, and he held out his hand to me.
( Sherwood Smith )
[ Court Duel ]
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