FOREVER KNIGHTS: #13 Salvaging Souls

Rhyers was quick to check the courtyard and bailey for anything Cimmerii. Checking tracks and inspecting every dark corner. Lurking in the shadows he made his way back to the long bridge which had been left down for the night to welcome attendants of the festival.

Arrogant. He thinks the Citadel immune to any effort at invasion. Rhyers thought as he tugged off his boots and unpinned the wig to set atop them just out of view of the wall guards. Once disassembled he ran barefoot through the perimeter. Doing laps around the Citadel and moving closer to see if he caught sight of a track.

Black hair waved behind him as he scurried. Leaned over to better see the ground as he moved. Adjusting the bones in his nose to the finer ones of the wolf to take in any odor of Cimmerii.

Ensuring there were no Cimmerii beasts outside he pulled his boots back on and expertly pinned the abhorrent wig back into place, after plucking a few stray leaves from it. Returning back into the Dance Hall as quietly as he’d left, he made sure to loudly greed some of the more prominent Widows and Ladies in attendance.

He leaned over one woman’s hand. Recalling that she was a prominent woman in the Sourthern Vale. Though I can’t, for the life of me, recall her name.

But he feigned great recognition as she fluttered over to greet him. Her eyes greedily taking him in as he kissed her hand in greeting. Caressing the tender underside of her arm with his fingertips as a seemingly incidental brush as he lowered her arm.

Though it wasn’t.

The woman’s eyes went hooded in appreciation as she offered him a lascivious curve of her lips.

Another lady was already tapping his shoulder and he turned to her. She smiled warmly as she welcomed him to the festival.

He offered her an arm as she spoke inundanely of the evening’s agenda. He escorted her to the refreshments table where he served her a hearty glass of wine. She whispered huskily that he knew her well.

I don’t. He’d merely assumed anyone would, in truth, prefer wine during a festivity over the more ladylike punch.

I would. As he poured a second glass and turned to find Ebony, another woman injected herself into his path before he could take a single step that direction.

She declared a request for libation as well. He handed her the glass he’d not yet tasted from. Bowing to her as he granted it to her.

Please let me leave. But it was clear she’d no intention of doing so as she asked if he liked her dress.

It is pretty but far outshined by Ebony. Whom he’d already glimpsed across the room. Moving fluidly and lowering her head in passing greeting, as those who recognized her, said hello.

But her eyes returned continually to him. Lingering.

He returned her long look. I’m trying to get back to you.

The woman before him giggled wildly in response to something she’d just said.

I have no idea what it was. He admitted. Laughing weakly in return.

She expressed she yearned to dance and he agreed to take her onto the floor. She offered him her glass for him to remove.

Taking it, he took a moment to stroke her fingers as his hand overlapped hers.

“Thank you, My Lord Rhyers…” She cooed.

He gave her a half-smile and took her drink to a table before returning to escort her onto the dance floor. Exhibiting his great skill in the motions. I’ve done it enough I damn well best be good at it by now. He thought ruefully.

As he kissed her hand bidding her farewell for the night he was found by another Miss he couldn’t recall the name of, he sighed.

“You’re such a fine dancer, My Lord. I truly must impose you dance with me so I may dance with a man tonight who isn’t trodding on my toes.”

’Well, of course.” He feigned a smile as he gripped her fingers and led her out.

It was four more dances before he was finally able to reach Ebony.

“Kill me.” He ordered as he reached her. Offering her an arm.

“Enjoying yourself, I see.” She cooed.

Knowing exactly what I’d met. He gave her a stern look that had her giggling softly.

“You are quite charming…” She said it almost disapprovingly.

He gave her a sharp glance. “Meaning?”

“You’ve great skill at seducing women.”

“I thought I preferred my own gender?” He queried albeit bitterly.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “Fine. I admit it is…Unlikely…Now that I’ve seen how you behave in truth. It is clear you’re a rogue of the first water.”

“Why is it that I fear from you, that is no compliment?” He was looking over her head, scanning the room.

Most certainly isn’t.

“Would it be a compliment to be called a rogue, if it came from another’s lips?”

Lips?

She’d garnered his attention.

His gaze fell to her face. Automatically drawn to the body part she’d mentioned. Hers were lush and ruby from her chewing them while he’d been gone. He stared at them a moment too long before catching himself. Dammit.

She was waiting for an answer.

To what? What in bloody hell did she ask me? Something about her lips.

Taking mercy on him she asked. “Is it ever a compliment to be referred to as a rogue?”

“From a lady?” He lifted a black brow before his face descended into a frown. “No.”