Warbill laughs. “I told him not to worry. I figured you’d made friends with the kitchen staff and been roped into helping bake bread or something of the sort.”
“Actually, I was painting.”
“Painting?” Damien looks perplexed.
“They have an artist’s enclave that meets by the river while the tent is going up.” I hold up my hand to show Damien the paint on my fingers. “Speaking of, I didn’t see you tonight with the others. Where were you two?”
“We used the opportunity to investigate the caravan while everyone was distracted,” Warbill whispers, his eyes shifting to Damien.
“Did you find anything?” I ask.
Damien scowls. “No. And still no contact to negotiate hiring their men.”
Maggie zooms in and slides a bowl of stew in front of me. “Like it or not, it’s what’s on the menu,” she says to me.
“Looks hot and brown. Good enough for me.”
She laughs and takes off toward the kitchen, while Damien and Warbill look down at their own bowls, noticing that I have twice as much and mine looks a hell of a lot tastier. All our bowls were the same last night.
“Looks like mysisterhas charmed the Rivertoads,” Warbill says, raising an eyebrow.
I take a bite, and it’s positively delicious. “You know, Grams used to say you could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. You two could be more personable. Make some friends.”
“Why did she want to catch flies?” Warbill asks.
“I, uh… It’s an expression. Like if you’re trying to clear them from the room.”
Both Warbill and Damien squint at me.
“Never mind. It was a bad analogy. These people aren’t flies. Just be nice and make friends. It’s not that hard.”
Couples take to the dance floor, twirling by me in a way that reminds me of a combination of the waltz and swing dancing. I’m enchanted and tap my foot to the beat the entire time I’m eating.
“This is the most fun I’ve seen a group of people have in your world since we arrived in Tenebris,” I say. “And that includes the Harvest Festival.”
The illusion I’ve placed over Damien’s face does not hide his bitterness. “In my people’s defense, there hasn’t been a lot to celebrate.”
The Rivertoads must feel the weight of what’s happening as well, but they find a way to come together despite all of it. It’s beautiful to me. “Do you know this dance?”
“I vaguely remember it.”
“Want to swing your cousin around the room, Marquis?” I say playfully.
He glances toward Warbill. “Only if your brother stays put in case our promised contact arrives.”
Warbill leans harder on his elbows, his ale between his palms. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Damien stands and holds out his hand to me. “Come. I’ll teach you.”
We join the others on the makeshift dance floor, Damien tossing me around as if I weigh nothing, swinging me between his legs and launching me into the air as he turns to the count along with the other dancers. Before long, we’re laughing, and I feel lighter than I have in ages. When the song is over, I’m tempted to kiss him, then remember that we’re supposed to be cousins and opt to put more room between us.
I almost jump when a hand lands on the center of my back. I turn to find Jaqual, dressed in a suit of purple velvet and a white linen shirt. He’s covered in beads and the same necklace I saw wink at me before, the one with a large eye in the center of the flat stone.
“Do you mind if I cut in?” he asks Damien.
My mate has no choice but to bow and politely leave the floor. He’s supposed to be my cousin after all, not some jealous husband. To make matters worse, the music changes, and I find myself slow dancing with my new friend.
“Did you enjoy painting tonight?” he asks me.
