Brian Kittrell - The Consuls of the Vicariate

She swallowed the rest of her wine, nodded slowly, and pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket. “All right. If you want.”

Valyrie stood and walked toward the stage, then gave Laedron a glance before approaching the band. Following a brief conversation, the lute player seemed to have convinced the others to participate because they nodded approvingly. She walked with them to the stage, then stood in front of the band. Looking out over the crowd, she wavered and appeared nervous, so Laedron gave her a nod of encouragement.

She glanced over her shoulder at the band, and they started playing. Laedron became fascinated at the tune, which began with a somber prelude, but evolved into spirited melody when she sang.

Laedron sat awestruck by the flawlessness of her voice, every note sang with perfect tone and inflection. The passion behind her words sent chills racing down his spine, a sensation he rarely felt with music, a feeling not unlike the one he had experienced when they had kissed. The sweet melody completed the picture of her true inner beauty, and his desire for her gentle embrace heightened.

When the song ended, a silence filled the room before the patrons gave her an ovation. Clapping his hands, Laedron rose to honor her singing, and she returned to the table, her cheeks flush and her eyes wet. The applause ceased only when she gave them a bow and took her seat.

“Quite a performance,” Laedron said, scooting closer to her. “You have a wonderful, no, a magnificent singing voice.”

“Thank you.” She hid her face, seemingly out of shyness.

“What’s wrong, Val? Did you make a mistake? If you did, I don’t think anyone noticed.”

“No, it’s not that.”

Laedron took her hand, trying to do something to help. “What is it, then?”

“The validation. I never thought it could feel so good.” She brushed her hand across her cheek.

He knew the feeling. It was the same sensation he felt the first time someone called him sorcerer , and it was akin to the excitement that had stirred within him when he defeated Gustav. He raised her hand to his face and gently kissed the back of it.

“What’s that for?” she asked.

“Appreciation.” He glanced at the band when they began another song, then gazed at her again. “Would you care to dance?”

Caught up in the moment, Laedron had forgotten that he didn’t know much about dancing. In fact, he didn’t know the first thing about it, and the only time he’d ever done it before was when his ma or sister asked. Then, he wondered how well Valyrie could dance. I bet she’s experienced. Maybe she doesn’t want to.

She nodded, and Laedron swallowed deeply. He rose and escorted her to an open area of the floor. Thankfully, the band played a song with a moderately slow tempo. He drew her close to his body and placed his hand on her hip. She rested her head on his shoulder. He held her hand close to his heart and swayed with the rhythm.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled her scent, detecting the hint of perfume on her skin. Jasmine?No matter. It’s not important . Blocking out everything except the music and her touch, Laedron felt as if they had escaped all of Bloodmyr in favor of their own nook of the universe, a place where time stood still and no one from the outside could enter. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had been so relaxed, and he didn’t want it to end.

When the song ended, he opened his eyes. “That was nice.”

“Very nice,” she said, taking half a step back and smiling.

He walked to their table, still grasping her hand, and the serving woman refilled their goblets. They sipped wine quietly for a few moments before Marac came over.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Marac asked, his words slurred slightly.

Laedron nodded. “I can see you’re having fun. Where’s Brice?”

“Left a while ago. Said he had something to take care of.”

“Left? Just like that?” Laedron asked.

“Yeah.” Marac let out a hiccup. “Sorry.”

“Looks like we’d better get you back.”

“No need to leave early on my part, my friend. I think I’ll head on back, but don’t trouble yourselves.”

“You sure?”

Marac slapped him on the shoulder. “Absolutely. I’ve found my way back before with far more than this to drink. I’ll be fine.”

Laedron smiled when Marac turned away and weaved toward the door. “Looks like he’s lost his tolerance for fine liquor.”

“Seems like you haven’t,” Valyrie said.

He furrowed his brow and stared at his half-empty goblet of wine. How many have I had?Two-and-a-half now and no effect? No sign of inebriation? “How do you feel, Val?”

“Oh, quite well, thank you,” she said, giving him a smile that he attributed, at least in part, to the alcohol.

Laedron offered his hand after dropping a few coins on the table. “Want to get out of here?”

Taking his hand, Valyrie stood, stumbled over her chair, and balanced herself. “Sorry, stood up too fast.”

“It’s perfectly all right.”

Exiting into the street, Laedron kept her hand wrapped under his arm and escorted her along the road back to the Shimmering Dawn. Although Valyrie was clearly intoxicated, she had consumed less wine than he had, and he felt no ill effects whatsoever. In fact, despite the late hour, he still felt well-rested and fresh.

When they arrived at the bedraggled church, Valyrie’s hand slipped down his arm and clasped his hand. He gave her some resistance when she entered his room, but she pulled him the rest of the way through the door before closing it. Once inside, Laedron felt his back against the wall and her kiss on his lips. Then, he noticed her fingers slowly running through his hair and caressing the side of his face. Her other hand stroked his shoulder then slid down the side of his body.

The drink has gotten to her, taken control , he thought when her hand reached his waistband. “No, not like this.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, the wine adding an unusual accent to her speech. He could tell she wanted him, but he feared that the alcohol might have heightened her lust instead of her affection.

“Just… not like this.”

She backed away, looking ashamed. “You don’t desire me?”

“Nothing like that.” Laedron shook his head, walked over to the bed, and sat on the edge. “If it happens, I want it to be something special for both of us, something we’ll remember in the morning and for the rest of our lives. I don’t want to be too hasty.”

She sat next to him. “It’s all right, Lae. Really, it’s-”

“No.” He took her hand in his and kissed it. “I care for you, and I don’t want what we have to be ruined by a night of carelessness; I don’t ever want regret coming to mind when you look my way. Not ever.”

She nodded, then pressed her hands against his chest, causing him to lie back until his head hit the pillow. His eyes fixed on the ceiling, he felt Valyrie crawl up alongside, then she rested her head above his heart.

“If you’ll do nothing else, hold me close, Sorcerer.”

He lay with his arm wrapped about her shoulders, holding her tight. Unable to judge the time, he decided to stay until he felt tired and could fall asleep, but the feeling never came.

Valyrie stirred at his side when the dawn light beamed into her face. The stained glass subdued the light, but it was clearly enough to rouse her from her sleep. Rubbing her eyes, she arched her back and stretched her limbs. Then, her eyes met his, and shock filled them.

“What… what happened?” she asked.

Laedron grinned. “Nothing to be ashamed of, for we’ve only slumbered here. You wanted more. Well, the wine took control once we returned, to be perfectly honest.”