lifting a finger so she could slide it down the length of his nose, “are a romantic. Aren’t you?”
It wasn’t a question. Blushing, Eduor ducked his head. Deciding it was best to make a tactical retreat, he carefully stood, mindful of the wine he had drunk. Then, because he couldn’t resist, he swooped down and kissed her. And very briefly, very quickly, licked her lips with his tongue.
After all, he thought as he pulled back, leaving her smiling and dreamy-eyed, if my tongue is going to get me into yet more trouble ...
The music stopped. Eduor became aware that all three of the musicians were staring at the two of them. Their stares and their silence were drawing more attention. Definitely time to retreat.
He didn’t get very far. Chanson’s mother, a matronly figured woman in bright brocaded green, bustled up to him, a cup of date wine cradled casually in one hand. She poked him with her other hand, alarming the young man. The older a woman got in this corner of Sundara, he had learned, the more inclined she was to speak her mind. Apparently, this particular middle-aged mother intended to speak it to him.
“You,” Marison stated crisply, “are something. You are one, and a total, total one, at that!”
“Milady, I swear my actions were not meant to offend anyone,” Eduor replied under his breath. Her confrontation was embarrassing and awkward, and drawing a lot of interest from the other adults still up this late. The last thing he wanted to do was raise his voice and let the others know what was being discussed.
“What?” She frowned at him, then sighed and shook her head. “No, no, no, boy! You are something . A better something than that Falkon was. Why, when he was courting my little girl, he always treated her like the girl next door! He took her for granted . Just look at him!” She flipped her hand expressively at nothing, both emphasizing her point and dismissing the man in question, then sipped from her cup. “Run off to fight. Silly man. The desert’s a hard enough life without adding warfare to strife ... mmm, heh, that rhymed ...
“But as I was saying, you are something. You have substance!” She clapped him on the shoulder, and being a somewhat large, well-built woman, made him stagger a little. Chuckling, Marison saluted him with her cup. “Make sure you stick around.”
Turning, she sashayed away, gathered skirts swaying with each step. A glance at the others still lingering at the celebration showed them smiling. Apparently, if Marison gave her approval, everyone else would. Eduor swayed a little from the sensation of being accepted by this community. Either that or it was the wine, but he felt good about tonight all the same.
“She’s right, you know,” Chanson murmured from right behind him, so close that Eduor jumped a little. She smirked at him as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “You are something, and I would like you to stick around. Preferably a good, long time.”
Her hand touched his back, then slid down to pat the curves of his buttocks through the brocaded purple of his festival thawa . It made him jump a second time, alarmed by the touch. That was what Midalla had done to let him know she ... This is not that dead hag of a merchant, nor her harridan niece, Eduor reminded himself firmly. Chanson will not demand I satisfy her, nor withhold everything else in my life until I comply. She is nothing like those two harpies ... for which, I thank the Gods.
It helped that when he looked at her, all he saw was a beautiful young woman with deep brown skin and nut brown eyes. Her twist-rolled locks had been swept up into a sort of dark cockscomb and confined in place by the length of sky blue linen wrapped around her head, nothing like the silky brown or blond tresses of a Natallian woman. When she walked, she walked with the same feminine sway to her hips that her mother used. Her ankles were bare beneath the straps of her sandals instead of covered in hose, and
It wasn’t a question. Blushing, Eduor ducked his head. Deciding it was best to make a tactical retreat, he carefully stood, mindful of the wine he had drunk. Then, because he couldn’t resist, he swooped down and kissed her. And very briefly, very quickly, licked her lips with his tongue.
After all, he thought as he pulled back, leaving her smiling and dreamy-eyed, if my tongue is going to get me into yet more trouble ...
The music stopped. Eduor became aware that all three of the musicians were staring at the two of them. Their stares and their silence were drawing more attention. Definitely time to retreat.
He didn’t get very far. Chanson’s mother, a matronly figured woman in bright brocaded green, bustled up to him, a cup of date wine cradled casually in one hand. She poked him with her other hand, alarming the young man. The older a woman got in this corner of Sundara, he had learned, the more inclined she was to speak her mind. Apparently, this particular middle-aged mother intended to speak it to him.
“You,” Marison stated crisply, “are something. You are one, and a total, total one, at that!”
“Milady, I swear my actions were not meant to offend anyone,” Eduor replied under his breath. Her confrontation was embarrassing and awkward, and drawing a lot of interest from the other adults still up this late. The last thing he wanted to do was raise his voice and let the others know what was being discussed.
“What?” She frowned at him, then sighed and shook her head. “No, no, no, boy! You are something . A better something than that Falkon was. Why, when he was courting my little girl, he always treated her like the girl next door! He took her for granted . Just look at him!” She flipped her hand expressively at nothing, both emphasizing her point and dismissing the man in question, then sipped from her cup. “Run off to fight. Silly man. The desert’s a hard enough life without adding warfare to strife ... mmm, heh, that rhymed ...
“But as I was saying, you are something. You have substance!” She clapped him on the shoulder, and being a somewhat large, well-built woman, made him stagger a little. Chuckling, Marison saluted him with her cup. “Make sure you stick around.”
Turning, she sashayed away, gathered skirts swaying with each step. A glance at the others still lingering at the celebration showed them smiling. Apparently, if Marison gave her approval, everyone else would. Eduor swayed a little from the sensation of being accepted by this community. Either that or it was the wine, but he felt good about tonight all the same.
“She’s right, you know,” Chanson murmured from right behind him, so close that Eduor jumped a little. She smirked at him as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “You are something, and I would like you to stick around. Preferably a good, long time.”
Her hand touched his back, then slid down to pat the curves of his buttocks through the brocaded purple of his festival thawa . It made him jump a second time, alarmed by the touch. That was what Midalla had done to let him know she ... This is not that dead hag of a merchant, nor her harridan niece, Eduor reminded himself firmly. Chanson will not demand I satisfy her, nor withhold everything else in my life until I comply. She is nothing like those two harpies ... for which, I thank the Gods.
It helped that when he looked at her, all he saw was a beautiful young woman with deep brown skin and nut brown eyes. Her twist-rolled locks had been swept up into a sort of dark cockscomb and confined in place by the length of sky blue linen wrapped around her head, nothing like the silky brown or blond tresses of a Natallian woman. When she walked, she walked with the same feminine sway to her hips that her mother used. Her ankles were bare beneath the straps of her sandals instead of covered in hose, and
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