Page 45 of Of Might and Mettle

Antonio fought a sigh. He knew the teasing that would entail. “We’ll see.”

“Or maybe now.” Cristian stood and bowed.

Antonio glanced up and started to his feet. “Lorelle.” She’d snuck up on him again, and this time, she shot him a shy grin.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked, glancing between them.

Antonio looked to Cristian, but his brother had already slammed the kitchen door behind him. Peluche ran to Lorelle, and she scooped him up. She looked more at ease with the pup in her arms.

“My aunt and uncle tell me that you’re the one to thank for the inventor coming,” she said, not tearing her gaze away from Peluche. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

His throat tightened. “I couldn’t think of a better use for the reward,” he said lamely.

Now she looked at him. “Oh, of course not.” She shot him a wry grin. “Though maybe it would be good to spend some of that fortune on a good oil for your knee.”

His knee creaked as he took a few steps closer to her, closing the distance so they were an arm’s length apart. “You got me there.”

“Anything else you need to get off your chest while I’m here?” she said, eyes shining with mischief. “Maybe what you said to my aunt and uncle to get you in their good graces? They don’t like just anybody.”

“Not that.” He lowered his voice so they wouldn’t be overhead from the open windows. “But there is one more thing I must confess.” He offered a teasing grin.

“Oh?” Her eyes widened, and her cheeks pinked. “What’s that?”

He leaned closer, glancing about as if to check they were really alone. “Peluche is an Elevski wolf.”

Surprise and disappointment flickered in her green eyes. She blinked, shaking her head, and leaned back slightly. “Wh-what?”

He frowned. “Do you not like wolves? He’ll grow much bigger than a regular dog, but he’ll still be trainable. Is that—”

“Ay, tonto.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. His mouth snapped shut. She crossed her arms, flashing another wry grin. “I thought you were going to confess something else,” she said, though her cheeks flamed red.

He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. She relaxed into his embrace, even as Peluche squirmed for release. “Ah, that too,” he said. “I was just waiting for the right moment.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you waiting until we get washed down the river again?”

His smile widened. “Maybe we can make it an annual thing.”

“Estás loco.” She swatted his arm, stepping back to set Peluche down. “Maybe that’s why Tía invited you for dinner tonight. She’s a bit crazy herself sometimes.”

“Clarisa invited me? Not you?” He gave her a mock frown.

“No, but I might be persuaded yet.” Something silver flashed in her fingers and before he could protest, she pinned his medal onto his collar with as much careful determination as could be expected when she could only do it one-handed. “You are a hero, after all,” she said. “Even if it takes a little mettle for people to see it.”

Her grin widened, and he couldn’t help but feel humbled at the admiration in her gaze. That this brave dancer, strong in both heart and spirit, would take the time to look at him.

She was made of finer stuff than tin—something quite like gold.

Epilogue - Curtain Call

Six months later . . .

Lorelle tied the ribbon of her shoe and let it fall from her mouth as she straightened. Laughter carried through the wall of the dressing room, and she stood, entering the large ballroom preferred by the princess for practice.

“I’m not sure why we always need this much space,” teased Lorelle as she caught sight of the princess in the other corner of the room. She crossed her arms. “And where’s your costume?”

Teresa shrugged. “I’ll get it later,” she grinned. “Come.” She waved Lorelle over to the barre. With a cue from Teresa, the four-piece orchestra started, filling the air with beautiful strains. Maybe that was why Teresa had picked the large ballroom even though it was only ever the two of them.

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows as Lorelle worked through stretches and exercises. She glanced over at Teresa and frowned. “You’re not stretching.”