“Pity,” Vayden said. “Isla’s a right fine dancer.”
“Why don’t you ever dance with me, then, love?” Isla replied.
“Because I’ve two left feet, dearest, as you well know.”
Letting Ilain lead him over to more open ground, Ethenn tried to forget the presence of the others in the camp around them. A particularly hard feat when Rafferty was making snide remarks to Thom, who was failing to hold in his laughter. Evylin slapped Thom on the back of the head, then turned to Deckard. “Help Ethenn,” she said.
Deckard frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t know how to dance,” she said. “Teach him.”
“I can teach him,” Ilain said.
“It is the man who leads,” Brea interjected. “Let a man teach him.”
Though Ilain pursed her lips at the lieutenant’s orders, she stepped back nonetheless.
With a sigh, Deckard rose. He came over, offered an apologetic look to Ethenn, and then walked him through the proper form and steps of the most common Ephrian dances. Deckard demonstrated with Ilain so that Ethenn could watch before attempting it himself. Then Deckard guided the couple into the proper positioning.
Once Ethenn clasped Ilain’s hand in his and set the other on her waist, Vayden asked, “Ready?”
Ethenn took a deep breath. His palms and fingers burned where they touched Ilain, but he refused to let his nervousness show. “Yes,” he said.
In a steady, rich baritone, Vayden began to sing.
Ethenn didn’t move.
“You’re supposed to move your feet,” Ilain advised quietly.
“I’m getting a feel for the rhythm,” he said.
“Oh.”
After several more beats, Ethenn took the first step...and promptly landed on Ilain’s toes. She grimaced, and he apologized, but she pressed him to keep moving even as several in the group fought off laughter.
Evylin shushed Rafferty and Thom, then grabbed Deckard’s hand, taking the opportunity to dance with him as well. Ethenn appreciated her attempt to make the moment less awkward, though it didn’t help much.
He glanced down, eyes on the ground. Carefully, he stepped to the rhythm, the toe of his boots brushing against Ilain’s dark skirt.
“Look up,” Ilain instructed.
“If I do that, I’ll step on you.”
“You can’t lead the dance if you’re looking at your feet.”
He scoffed. “I can’t lead the dance if I injure my partner either.”
A gentle laugh filled her voice as she said, “Look at me, Ethenn.”
Afraid he’d crush her toes, Ethenn lifted his eyes cautiously. The night had come, casting heavy shadows through the camp and across her face. However, her vibrant hair glimmered in the firelight.
“That’s better,” Ilain said, even as he stumbled through the next few steps. “So why does Brea have us dancing again?”
“Evidently, it helps a fighter gain finesse,” he explained.
“And you’re lacking that?”
Thinking she should already be aware of his failings, Ethenn nodded. “I’m lacking a lot of things,” he said.
