Page 84 of First Light

Musicians filled the room with the sound of pipes, harps, flutes, and drums. Dancers were already spinning in front of the head table where a wide floor had been cleared so the king and his guests could watch as the dancers reached the front, bowing to the royal table before they parted and moved to the back.

Robb sat at an elevated table at the front of the room, King Dafydd beside him, their queens on each side. And next to Queen Elanor, his face glowing and his burnished hair falling in glorious waves to his shoulders, was Lachlan.

By the time her eyes found him, he was already watching her.

“Lachlan saw me.” She gripped Cadell’s arm.

“He sees no one else.” Cadell urged her to the left. “We’ll be sitting at the front, near your uncle.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off Lachlan. He was dressed in a dark-blue-and-green tartan thrown over his shoulder, and his cape was made of black fur. His reddish-brown hair gleamed in the candlelight, his jaw was clean-shaven, and his lips were full as he reached for a goblet of wine.

He watched her as he drank, and Carys could feel the memory of his lips brushing over her breast. His skin would be warm at her neck, and her body ready for him.

Carys. Cadell squeezed her arm and spoke in her mind.

“Sorry.”

You love him. She did too.

It was a harsh slap in the face that reminded Carys what she was doing at the banquet that night and why she’d decided to stay. Yes, she needed to sort out her feelings for Lachlan, but she needed to solve the mystery of Seren’s death too, and this was the perfect place to people-watch.

She turned to Duncan. “Did you ask Lachlan about the journals?”

“I did. He claims that Aisling has them. She packed up all of Seren’s books and put them in storage. He says the journals were among them, but she didn’t put personal information in them. It was a schedule of her work more than a confessional.”

“So he says.” Carys glanced at Lachlan and saw him watching her and Duncan. “Aisling may not have realized that Seren’s journals were mixed in with her books.”

“That was my thought as well.” Duncan glanced up at his brother. “Do you want to make him jealous?”

Carys blinked. “What? No, that’s not what I was thinking at all. I just wanted to?—”

“Dance, I think.” Duncan slid his fingers between her hand and Cadell’s arm. “Dragon, I will dance with the lady while you find our seats.”

“Happy to avoid the dance floor.” Cadell disappeared into the crowd.

Carys found herself pressed to Duncan’s side. “I wasn’t even thinking about dancing. I’d rather?—”

“It’s a banquet.” His voice was uncharacteristically playful. “You have to dance. It’s expected.”

“I don’t know how to do any of this.”

She hung back as they approached the whirling, spinning dancers on the floor, weaving in and out in lines and circles that made her dizzy. The music had changed from a slower, lilting melody to a raucous reel.

“Duncan, I don’t know?—”

“Oh lass” —he linked her hand with his— “you’ve got to be the bravest woman I know. Don’t be afraid of a little bit of dancing now. Just follow my lead.”

And with that, Duncan hooked her arm in his and spun her around, holding her at the waist before he whirled her out and back again, their bodies touching only briefly before he spun her around again.

“What are we doing?” She couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

“Haven’t ye ever been to a ceilidh?”

Carys shook her head. “No!”

The music was loud enough to drown out everything but the stomping of boots on the ground, the slapping of hands, and the laughter from the humans, fae, and unicorns around them.

She spun from Duncan’s arms and into the arms of a man standing next to him, a grey-headed man with twinkling blue eyes and a long beard.