Chapter 82: The Whisk

ETAN

He had been in a foul mood ever since dinner. It descended on him as soon as the music began and Ayleth had made her way to the dancefloor. But instead of dancing she'd stood there with her Ladies, and Trystan, and some other nobles... having fun.

Now, as he gave in to the torment of being so close, yet so far, and approached her, seeing her humor fade to be replaced by tension was a blade to his heart.

Wonderful.

He was such a joy to be around tonight that even his betrothed dreaded his arrival.

"Evening, Trystan," he said, clicking his heels as he bowed before his friend. Every hair on the right side of his body rose under Ayleth's gaze, though she didn't speak, and he didn't look at her.

"Well met, Etan. How are you tonight?"