Page 4 of A Taste for the Peculiar

Lord Riften grins lazily. “You have seen straight to the heart of me, my lady.”

Her lips press into a thin line. All of Lord Riften’s needling has worked its way under her skin, but she can’t be sure if she likes it. She can’t be sure how she’s meant to take it. More than once, she has been the unknowing recipient of ridicule, and she prickles at the memory. If Lord Riften means to ridicule her, she must cut it off quickly…and since he has forgone the precepts of polite society, maybe that means Avirin can, too. Just this once. Just to know what it feels like.

Her eyes narrow as they spin. “Contrary to what you may believe, Lord Riften, I am not some doe-eyed girl who understands nothing of the world. I will not be disparaged for sport. I am not a fool.”

Avirin keeps her pace, despite the way her heart thuds. A sense of pride swells in her, but it is quickly consumed by fear. Perhaps she has misspoken. Perhaps she misunderstood Lord Riften, but before she can speak again, his voice comes gently.

“I do not think you foolish, Lady Avirin.” He guides her hand in an arc over their heads and settles his other arm around her waist. “And I do not tease you out of unkindness. Please, make your request, and I shall help in any way I can.”

Avirin blinks. These parties have always been meant for preening and strutting, where people apply polish and then pretend they wear no veneer. Sincerity was the last thing she expected. It takes all Avirin has to remember what she means to ask for. “I need to learn the ways of attracting a husband. Of keeping him happy. Of…pleasing him.”

Lord Riften’s brows lift knowingly. “As I do not have a husband, I’m not sure I would be of much use to you, my lady.”

Avirin blushes. “No, but you are…”

“A man?”

“Is that correct?”

Lord Riften considers this. “I am a man…” The music picks up. He pulls her flush and spins them quickly, using the force to keep her pressed against his chest. “But not only that.”

Her head swims, and it can’t all be blamed on the twirling. She lowers her gaze to his collar in hopes that it is easier than focusing on Lord Riften’s face. “You attract people,” she tries to explain. “You attract attention. You know how to draw peoples’ eyes.”

“And have I drawn yours?” His eyelids are heavy, long lashes all but brushing the freckles on his cheeks.

Her toes curl in her shoes. “It’s clear you are —”

“Convenient?”

She sweats at the turn of phrase. “I do not mean to imply —”

“A doxy?”

Her eyes dart around the room. Are they being overheard? Do the other guests know what conversation they’re having?

Lord Riften leans toward her conspiratorially. “A Bird of Paradise?”

God, where is her fan? The room is sweltering, and there is something so confusing about the way Lord Riften’s strapping and delicate natures combine to make Avirin feel faint. “No. I — well.” Her tongue is thick and clumsy in her mouth. “I do believe your — experience could prove useful.”

Lord Riften’s grin is positively impish. “So you are a doe-eyed girl who needs help to understand the ways of the world?”

She wants to strangle him with his stock. His smart, smug look feels like it peels away the layers of her clothing to what lies beneath. Still, she can’t deny the truth. She does need his help, but before she can admit it, he guides her hands over her head in the dance.

“What is it about a husband that interests you?” Lord Riften’s wings flutter behind him. “A clever woman like you could find one in due time. For you to seek my aid, it must be rather intriguing…or you must be rather desperate.”

She coughs abruptly. There is no possibility that Lord Riften knows the real reason she has sought him out. She has kept her black eyes hidden. She has buried her hunger deep inside. She tries to sound bright and airy, but her voice comes out dull. “It is my third season. I must prioritize what is most important. And,” she adds quickly, “I can pay for your service.”

Lord Riften looks skeptical, but they don’t press further, pulling her close before their expression sobers. “Prior to any exchange, you should know that the rumors about me are not completely false. Some of the wildest ones are true.”

Avirin waits for more, but Lord Riften does not specify. They merely watch her face for a reaction.

“The company I keep,” they continue, “the company I am, may affect your reputation. Is this endeavor of yours worth that?”

Avirin purses her lips. He needn’t know there is a far bigger threat to her standing among society. Nonetheless, at the sight of the two of them together, people will talk. No doubt some tongues have already begun to wag. But if she is already being divinely punished for indiscretions she hasn’t taken, she might as well see what all the fuss is about.

Resolutely, she straightens her shoulders. “Perhaps that’s exactly what I need. My reputation is rather lackluster, to say the least. A bit of conspiracy might finally have the suitors knocking down my door.”

Lord Riften catches the humor in her words. His smirk returns, and this time, it warms her from the inside out. “Then I will assist you, Lady Avirin.”