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What kind of backwards dance was this?
Nevertheless, I raised my arm overhead and started in a circle as Bishop left to start the music. Flutes started the tune first, quickly joined by a spritely fiddle and pounding drums. If I had to place it, it sounded Irish to me, but different, more flutes and pipes. Each beat put a skip in my step as I turned in a circle.
“Faster,” Bishop instructed. “And you’re supposed to have your eyes closed. Love can’t find you if you’re watching.”
I rolled my eyes before I closed them. I still didn’t get what he meant when he said a man would sweep me away by my waist. Close as I could tell, he was videotaping me doing a spinning jig and he would upload it to YouTube with the caption: Dumb American falls for prank and spins until she pukes.
Strength captured my waist, using the momentum of my turn to whirl me away from where I’d been. Laughter burbled in my chest, but as I opened my eyes, Bishop was quick to remind me, “Eyes closed. When the music stops, you’re supposed to end up with the love of your life. If you’re peeking, it won’t work.”
The door clicked behind us. Kabir had come to find me, and I didn’t blame him. I waited for him to interrupt, but he stayed quiet. Maybe this was a tradition he could respect, despite my dance partner.
“The only problem, Bishop, is you’re the only one here, so this dance is kind of rigged.”
He tightened the spin, creating momentum as we turned. “Do you want to become a Nolcovian lady or not?”
I started to answer, but someone else pulled me from Bishop’s grasp and spun us in the opposite direction. I laughed as my head grew light. How long was the song? Once more, I transferred arms and directions. Then back again.
“You plan to keep it up all day, Cousin?” Bishop’s voice echoed in my ear, but I kept my eyes closed. The music’s tempo increased as did the tightness of our turns. A hand slid over my stomach, stealing me away from Bishop, right before I heard his voice.
“As long as it takes,” Fitz replied as his arm led me in the opposite direction. “I know the rules.” I felt Bishop try to steal me back, but Fitz moved us easily out of his reach as the music wound down to the final moments. As the last notes played in the hearty jig, my partner brought us to a stop, both hands on my waist as the world spun. Even without opening my eyes, or without hearing his voice, I knew it was Fitz by the shape of him, the smell of him, the way my body reacted with him close. On fire, but completely still and at peace, because he felt like coming home every time he held me.
“Go on then,” Bishop prompted from a distance, “open your eyes and see your love.”
I did as instructed, though I didn’t see Fitz. Well, I didn’t see just one Fitz. More like three blurred Fitzs still spinning.
“Hello, Your Highness.” I blinked and tried to focus him into one person. “I didn’t expect you.”
“I saw Kabir and I wagered that…” Fitz’s voice trailed off as his eyes twitched with suspicion. He released his hands from my waist and stepped back. “What’s going on in here?”
“A little cultural education,” Bishop offered with his usual dash of ill-timed charisma as he moved between us. “I thought I would help our exchange student understand a few of our traditions.”
Fitz’s eyes ventured to mine. “You could have asked me if you were interested.”
Bishop didn’t allow me a chance to explain. “Clearly, you’re positively swamped, Cousin. I’m always happy to run to your aid. Fill in where you’re needed, as it were.”
The muscles in Fitz’s jaw clenched at his words, which only delighted Bishop more. I took the moment to try to smooth things over.
“It’s nothing, Fitz.” I stepped in front of Bishop. “He was worried I would screw up the dancing at the ball, make a fool of myself, and disgrace the whole country in the process.”
Fitz’s face softened at the explanation. “You never have been one to keep rhythm, have you?”
“I don’t even have two left feet. I have no dancing feet.”
A smile hid behind his eyes, like the sun playing peekaboo behind dark clouds. “I suppose I’ll have to save a dance for you then, yes? A test of my cousin’s tutelage.”
Bishop groaned, breaking the spell between us. “It’s simply not fair to judge my abilities against her lack of skill. She’s practically hopeless.”
Fitz nodded as if it wasn’t news to him. “I know, and yet she always pulls through despite everything against her, doesn’t she?” The feeling between us sparked even more, flickering back to life. Before my moment with Bishop, I might have shoved it away, but after his advice to stand out as competition, I let it burn. If there was even a chance we could find a way…
“How was your date?” Bishop’s words not only broke the spell between us, but he physically jarred Fitz. The prince reversed a couple of steps, unable to meet my eyes.
“Uh—fine. Great, really. She’s… erm… she’s special.” He pointed at Bishop. “In fact, there’s a matter you could help with, if you’re willing?”
“What’s that, then?” Bishop straightened his vest as if preparing for battle.
“Mother. I need to talk with her about changes to the ball.” Fitz shifted, displaying his obvious discomfort with the idea of confronting the queen. “I thought you might lend your… progressive thinking and impeccable sarcasm to break the tension where needed.”
Bishop bowed, dramatically tilting forward, arms out to either side, more a mockery than a sign of respect. “At your service, my liege.” He rose, grinning wickedly, and tipped an imaginary hat at me. “Until next time, milady.”
