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Authors: Kimberly Chapman

Tags: #romance, #love, #adventure, #alcoholism, #addiction, #fantasy, #feminism, #intrigue, #royalty, #romance sex

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BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
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“Well, don’t worry,
Jarik can teach you,” Kurit said. “If you want to teach her, that
is,” he said to Jarik.

Jarik rose and bowed
elegantly. “Lady Aenna, it would be my honour.”


Good,” said
Kurit. “I could teach you, but
 
…”

“But you lack grace,”
Jarik teased.

Kurit pretended to
glare. “I was going to say it wouldn’t be appropriate. Someone,
probably Mother, would accuse us of being unseemly.”

Jarik took his seat
again and mocked, “Imagine that, Aenna! This rogue has finally
learned the concept of appropriate behaviour. You must be a good
influence.”

I doubted that, knowing
as I did that I secretly enjoyed it when Kurit spoke to me in
beastly ways.

It was decided then
that Jarik would give me dance lessons between my regimen of
classes with Kordos. They both were curious as to my progress
therein, and I said I felt I was doing better than Kordos would
acknowledge.

“Good,” said Jarik.
“Don’t let that ogre discourage you. He is a large part of the
reason that I elected to take more lessons in weapons and defence
than history and science.”

“I like science,” I
said. “I always wondered why some things happen, and it’s truly
fascinating to learn what we know of the reasons for them.
Yesterday I learned that the reason things look so strange if you
look through a glass of water is because the light behaves
differently once it hits the denser glass, then the water, then the
glass again, on its way to your eye. It’s so amazing! I had never
thought of the fact that light was something that moved; it was
just there. Now I know so much more about it, and I’m
fascinated.”

“Have you had to learn
geography yet?” asked Kurit. “I hated that. All the talk of
different places made me want to be there, not stare at their
symbols on a map.”

We spoke at length
about what I had learned, and the two sweet, kind men complimented
me many times on learning so much so quickly. It was a great deal
of work to become reasonably educated, but the reward of feeling
intelligent and informed was well worth the effort.

My first dance lesson
with Jarik the next day held more trepidation than curiosity,
though, since I had never known myself to be the least bit
graceful. Thankfully we were alone in the ballroom, or I would have
been deeply embarrassed.

He bowed and instructed
me to curtsey, so I did. He then took my left hand in his right.
“Now, this is important,” he said. “A gentlemen will always take
your hand like so,” he said as he demonstrated. He held his hand
rigid and scooped it up under my fingers, so that my fingers curled
over his index finger towards his palm. His thumb encircled my
fingers, as though he were forming a hole with his hand, and mine
was hooked upon it.

“Some scurrilous fiends
will attempt to do this,” he said, taking my hand again, only this
time hooking my fingers between his index and middle finger. “This
is considered very unseemly, as the man can then move his finger
across yours, caressing you in an inappropriate manner. Even that
wretched husband-to-be of yours would not be so rude,” he said in
jest.

He went on to explain
that there was a similar set of rules as to the appropriate way
that the man would place his hand on the lady’s waist, the distance
for dancers to remain apart, and the various other possibilities
for unseemly behaviour, usually on the part of the man.

“What is the joy in
dancing at all if one must be so rigid and controlled?” I
asked.

“I shall show you,” he
said, taking a hold of me in the proper manner. “Now, just step
along with me—don’t worry yet about how to move your feet.” He led
me in slow circles around the room, eyes locked to mine. Despite
the fact that he was a man of great honour and the cousin of my
betrothed, our intense eye contact made my heart flutter. I could
not look away, and though his face betrayed no emotion, his stare
was captivating. I’m not sure if he began to lead us faster, but
the room certainly began to spin.

I felt myself blushing,
and he stopped the dance.

“That, my dear Aenna,
is the pleasure of a dance: to become locked in a gaze, and though
every part of your body is in a specific place and behaving in an
appropriate manner, the eyes are free to communicate great
affection.”

I covered my cheeks,
ashamed that I had so easily been swept away by his gaze.

“Forgive me. I have
embarrassed you,” he said softly.

I shook my head.
“No, it is good that you forewarned me. I can only imagine the
embarrassment of becoming locked in such a gaze while dancing
with
 
…”

“The King?” he
suggested.

“Goodness!” I
exclaimed. “Can you imagine? Oh, I would curl up and die if such a
thing happened!”

“That is why you must
look around you often whilst dancing with anyone other than Kurit.
There is many an uncouth wretch who, having an old and miserable
wife, will seek to catch a pretty young girl in such a state. In
fact, I shall warn you now that Lord Staesh, the wealthy sea
merchant from Penklin, is the worst of the lot for that trick. It’s
unlikely that you will have enough dances to spare to grant him
one, but be forewarned.”

He took my hands away
from my face gently and apologized again. “I hope that I have not
made you uncomfortable.”

I shook my head and
smiled at him. “Jarik, I trust you. You, Leiset, and of course
Kurit are my dearest friends. And with the beatings that you give
Kurit for being a rascal, I know you to be good and honourable.” I
laughed. “I know you intended nothing rude.” To prove that I
trusted him, I stood on the tips of my toes to kiss his cheek.

Oh, how that made him
blush! Never had I witnessed a man to turn so red. He was so taken
aback by my gesture that he could not speak clearly for some
time.

I took my turn to
apologize. “Now I have embarrassed you!”

He shook his
head. “No. I
 

well, just that
 
…”
He took a deep breath and managed to compose himself enough to say,
“It was a kind gift, good Lady. Thank you.”

The air of awkwardness
was too fresh still to continue, so we ended the lesson for that
day.

Within a few weeks, he
had taught me several dance steps, and though I know I lacked
feminine grace, I managed to perform adequately. We did not again
become locked in a gaze, nor did I kiss his cheek, and thus we were
able to spend the time together merrily and without blushing. We
were even able to talk of many things without accidental
embarrassment—which he seemed more prone to than I, for some
reason—and I felt that he was not only my friend but a kind and
reliable confidant.

He challenged me on
some of the more difficult steps to go faster and faster. One
afternoon we spun quickly around the ballroom, our feet moving so
fast that I could not even keep track of where they were. I caught
sight of our reflection in the mirrors on the wall, and we looked
marvellous! My dress fluttered out behind me beautifully, and he
was so tall and elegant as he led me around the room.

I became distracted at
the sight of us in the mirror, and my feet crossed when they should
not. Our speed made me stumble badly enough to send me flying out
of his hold to land hard on my backside, sprawled on the floor.

Before I had even
realized what had happened, he was at my side, his expression
distraught. I looked down and saw my skirts scattered about my
legs, rumpled and unladylike. Then I looked again at Jarik, who was
wide-eyed with great concern. It was all so ridiculously clumsy and
inelegant that I burst into laughter. I laughed so that tears
rolled down my cheeks and my sides ached. Poor Jarik—he didn’t know
if I was hurt so badly that I had dashed my mind, or if I was
indeed merry.

I managed to curtail
the laughter enough to touch his sweetly concerned face. “Don’t
fret,” I said. “I’m unhurt. It’s just really, really funny to be so
elegant one moment and here sprawled on the floor like a derelict
the next.”

He didn’t laugh with
me, and his serious expression made me stop laughing myself. He
helped me graciously to my feet and gently dusted off my hands.

“Jarik, really, I’m
fine,” I said, but he was unconvinced.

With a voice full of
guilt he said, “I should not have spun you about so quickly. I was
to teach you to dance, not whip you about like a rag doll.”

“What can I say to
console you?” I asked. “Jarik, I’m fine. Really, I laughed because
it was amusing! Please don’t be so hard on yourself. You can’t
forever protect me from every bump and spill,” I said, trying to
soothe him.

“You should never
suffer so much as a bruise or scrape,” he insisted. “And especially
not at my hand.”

His insistent guilt was
becoming tiresome. I put my hands on my hips and said, “Jarik,
that’s well and good for those other ladies, but you know very well
I am not going to sit in a soft chair and grow wan and weak. I’d
gladly suffer bruises if it meant I was able to be alive and
active. Now stop pouting, or you shall make me sad with you.”

He looked at me
sheepishly, which was a strange sight for such a warrior. “You’re
right. Very well, I will try not to worry so much. But only if you
promise to always be careful. I should die if something bad
happened to you that I could have prevented, or worse, was the
cause of.”

“Jarik, don’t be
silly,” I said, touching his arm tenderly. “You would never be the
cause of anything unpleasant. And between your fretting over my
every clumsy bump and spill, Kurit’s continued fear that I will up
and disappear, and Leiset’s dedicated guard over my virtue and
reputation, I am the most well-protected woman in the kingdom! Come
now, that’s enough dancing for today. Would you be so kind as to
escort me to my chambers, that I might clean myself up before
dinner?”

He seemed to finally be
more relaxed and took me graciously to my room.

Just before dinner,
Kurit came to my chambers as Leiset and I sat in the receiving
chamber talking.

“I came to make sure
you are unhurt,” he said with concern.

“I’m fine, of course,”
I said.

He nodded and smiled,
taking the seat across from my own. “Jarik’s brooding in his
chambers. I pestered him as to why until he told me you had fallen
rather hard during his dance lesson, at which point I came straight
to see you.”

“Oh, by the very
Temple,” I muttered, sighing. “I told him I was fine. I laughed
when I fell! I told him not to worry so.”

“He won’t ever listen
to that, Aenna. He has it in his head that he’s responsible for
your well-being, an attitude that I find as frustrating as you
apparently do. It is as if he thinks I am not man enough to keep
you safe myself.”

“Oh, Kurit, I don’t
think he means anything of the sort. No one questions your
masculinity, and for all that he teases you about your size, you’re
neither small nor weak. He’s the tallest man in this city, I’m
sure, and his bulk is also beyond the norm. You are perfectly
handsome and strong, Kurit, and shouldn’t feel overshadowed by your
cousin.”

I had not realized how
sensitive he was about the difference between himself and Jarik
until a look of delight at my words crept onto his face. “Surely
you don’t imagine that I ever thought you less of a man than
Jarik?” I asked. His awkward shrug betrayed that he had.

My day was
certainly turning into a great one for having to feed the fragile
egos of these men. It was ridiculous how quickly they thought ill
of themselves. Of course, I suppose I had been guilty of the same
in the many discussions of the past where they had reassured me of
my worth. But that was somehow
different
.

“Leiset, I know you’re
going to tell me it’s unseemly, but could I have just a short
moment alone with Kurit?” I asked.

She looked at Kurit
suspiciously but was kind enough to agree. “I shall go to Lord
Jarik’s room and ask him to join you on your way to dinner. But I
will be back very soon,” she warned.

When she had left I
stood and took Kurit’s hand. He rose beside me, and I embraced him.
“Don’t ever imagine that I think you unmanly,” I said.

He smiled again.
“You’re very good to me,” he said and then kissed me gently. “Too
good to me, for all that I’m a beast to you when we’re alone.”

“Behave,” I scolded
softly.

He ignored my directive
and kissed me again, this time with a fervent longing. When he
finished, he whispered, “I cannot help myself. You tell me that I
am your strong man. You make me feel powerful, and my desire grows
with it.” We kissed again, lustfully. He broke the kiss off in time
that we would not be caught, but before releasing me the rogue
whispered into my ear: “On our wedding night, I shall make love
with you until you cannot help but cry out in delight.”

Thus, I was of course
blushing when Leiset arrived with Jarik in tow. She directed a
reproachful look at Kurit, who, naturally, feigned innocence. To
avoid an altercation of any sort, in jest or not, I took the hands
of both Jarik and Kurit and asked them politely to take me down to
dinner.

* * *

The remaining weeks
leading up to the wedding went smoothly as everyone was too busy
for silly worries or inappropriate behaviour. Then, five days
before the wedding, Kurit came to my room in a state of near panic
early in the morning. I had only just finished dressing, and my
hair was still in its night braid when he asked Leiset to leave us
alone.

She refused at first,
having ample reason to be suspicious of his motives. After all, he
had used every moment alone to steal a kiss in the past
months—whilst walking in the garden, in dark halls at night, in my
chambers, and even once between the shelves in the library as I
tried to study for one of Kordos’s unfairly difficult tests.

BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
3.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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