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“Yes,” Cassia said. “Tonight, life offers us something sweet. Let us enjoy it.”
Buoyed by the women’s well-wishes, she took her place across from Lio. His familiar smile reassured her, and yet took her breath away. His lips parted, as if he were about to say something, but the romantic moment was interrupted by the arrival of the mages. Master Gorgos supervised with a frown as Eudias came to stand beside Lio, and Ariadne by Cassia.
“Was dancing part of your diplomatic education?” Eudias murmured to Lio. “Do you know the steps of the Autumn Greeting?”
“Not to worry,” Lio replied. “My parents taught me all the Tenebran dances. This one hasn’t changed since my father’s time.”
Flavian approached them, his movements tired, carrying the sickle he had wielded in last year’s Autumn Greeting rites.
“No, no, this cannot be,” Master Gorgos blustered. “A Hesperine cannot wield the sacred sickle and become Anthros’s champion in this dance!”
“I’m afraid I must agree,” came the Semna’s voice.
Ben escorted her forward, avoiding Cassia’s gaze.
“Until Ambassador Deukalion undergoes his official conversion,” the venerable mage said, “he cannot take on the role of Anthros. But he may certainly complete the promise dance, just like all the other young men every year who aren’t selected to represent the god.”
“Thank you for instructing me, Semna,” Lio said with much more calm than Cassia felt.
She made an effort to keep her tone conciliatory, but gave Flavian a significant look. “As long as our dance is legally recognized as a betrothal promise, that is what matters.”
“Allow me to preside as Anthros’s champion from last year,” Flavian replied. “No one can doubt this match if I bless it.”
He would keep his end of the bargain, it seemed.
It took a few minutes of negotiation before a modification to the ritual was decided on, but at last the Semna gave them her blessing and let Ben escort her to a bench to watch. Master Gorgos made no further protests, but left Eudias to perform his role in the ritual. How politically convenient, to be able to claim or deny he had supported this union, depending on how the wind blew in the future.
Ariadne handed Cassia a sheaf of wheat, her eyes smiling. Cassia held it out to her Grace, and he took hold of it with her. Such a weak human symbol, compared to the bond that ran in their blood. But powerful for how it would protect them from their opponents.
Eudias raised his hands and said a prayer in Divine, ending in Vulgus, “With his Sickle, may Anthros bring his season of the sun to its end.”
“With her generous hands,” Ariadne finished the blessing, “may Kyria deliver unto us the season of her Bounty.”
Flavian raised the sickle, and Cassia had a sudden vision of him taking revenge on Lio with that blade. But Flavian brought the scythe down without much force and cut cleanly through the wheat. Flavian surrendered his sickle to Eudias and joined the line of dancers.
Cassia and Lio joined hands and threw the two sheaves into the bonfire. Anthros’s element crackled, while their friends cheered. Lio turned Cassia away from the flames, lifting their joined hands. The minstrels’ tune floated up through the night, and he guided her into the first twirl of the age-old Autumn Greeting dance.
“You look so beautiful tonight,” he said, when the steps brought him near.
“I see Kassandra sent a surprise along in your clothing trunks, as well.”
“Is my attire appropriate for the occasion, Your Highness?”
“There is one very serious problem with it, my lord.”
Doubt flickered across his face as they danced past each other. “What aspect of mortal clothes did I get wrong?”
She laughed, circling him. “Nothing. The problem is how much I want to take them off of you.”
His smile returned, a bit wicked. “But I’ve been told that humans consummate their unions with their clothes on. I insist on taking part in all of these traditions.”
“In that case, I will make sure to thoroughly enjoy keeping your clothes on you.” She didn’t care if the whole crowd could see the flush on her cheeks in the firelight.
There was a sly tilt to Lio’s brow. “What did you and Flavian talk about when you danced?”
She giggled. “Not this, I assure you.”
Lio was entitled to his smug expression. “Let me guess. Horses or hunting.”
