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My gaze meets Felicity’s again as she dances with Lucy and the other orphans on the dance floor. Though I wouldn’t exactly call it dancing. It’s more like swaying and flailing, but when she sees me staring again, her joyous smile makes my breath catch. It’s a strange feeling but not an unpleasant one. “Yeah, I guess I am,” I reply.
“Cyella sends her best, by the way,” Greiko says.
Sure, and I’m a swampster.I wisely keep those doubts to myself. But while we’re on the subject, maybe I can get some information about the corrupt mages out of Greiko. “What’s the story she’s working on, anyway?”
He shrugs. “Since when do you care about journalism? Or Cyella?”
“I’m just wondering what she’s been up to,” I lie. “Marriage has settled me.”
“I’ve learned not to pry. Cyella will tell me when she tells me.” He squints curiously at me. “Is there a reason why you’re so interested in her work?”
Now it’s my turn to shrug. I take a casual bite of the buttered bread and lie smoothly. “I’m just curious. She always struck me as the type to be a werewolf on a mailman’s ass when she has a story. I bet she and Felicity would get along like a house on fire.”
Just hopefully not the kind of fire that would burn down my empire.
Greiko chuckles. “You know, maybe I can nudge her into doing a story about the orphanage. She’d probably want an easy puff piece after this one.”
“Argoss!” Lucy calls. She’s got the broom I gave her as a pre-wedding gift and is zipping above the crowd. It’s a good thing she’s wearing shorts under her red flower girl’s dress. “Check this out!”
Ignoring Felicity’s protests, she shifts her legs to sit side saddle and then drops, hanging upside down. I raise my hand as she passes, and we high-five.
“Don’t encourage her!” Felicity calls above the din of amused and concerned guests.
“Alright, you,” I say, snatching her as she passes me by again and setting her down as she giggles. Without its rider, the broom floats gently to the ground like a dropped piece of paper.
“That was awesome!” she exclaims.
I try to keep my voice even, wanting to redirect her but not discourage her. “Let’s not give your mother a heart attack on her wedding night, okay?”
Lucy sighs, blowing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Fine.”
“But I do have a special job for you,” I say, and then lean down to whisper in her ear.
Her eyes literally sparkle with excitement, and as soon as I straighten up, she’s running to the DJ. With a wink at Greiko, I saunter to the edge of the dance floor, waiting for my cue.
Lucy steps up on her tiptoes and whispers in the DJ’s ear. He sits back, allowing Lucy to take the mic. “Will everyone but the bride and groom please vacate the dance floor? It’s time for their first dance, so get out of the way,” she announces, and I see her lack of filter hasn’t changed.
The DJ swaps out the music and the first notes begin to play. I approach Felicity and hold out my hand. “May I have this dance?”
Felicity giggles. “Sure, if you can call what I do dancing.”
“Waltzing is not so difficult. I happen to be an excellent dancer. Just put your hand here.” I guide her hand to my shoulder. “And let me put my hand here.” I rest my hand on the small of her back and pull her closer.
“Now what?” she asks.
I take her other hand in my free one. “Now I lead and you follow.” I guide her through the first few steps. She’s a bit hesitant, not quite ready to follow me, but soon we’re in rhythm together.
“Did you know?” I whisper to distract her from her nerves. “When the waltz was first invented, people were scandalized.”
She tilts her head. “Really?”
“Absolutely. Before that, the most you would ever touch someone in a dance was palm to palm –”
“ – in holy palmers kiss,” she replies automatically, finishing the Shakespeare quote.
“But a waltz was a bit more than a palmer’s kiss. You held each other close, chest to chest.” I lean in. “Crotch to crotch.”
She throws her head back in a surprised laugh, and I push her into a dip. She gasps but quickly relaxes, trusting me to keep her from falling.
