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“I couldn’t possibly, my love. See, I have this throbbing pain in my shin.”

“You’ll live,” Runa bit out, pulling me upright.

We joined the outer circle of the writhing group. I eyed the couples next to us with their spry, stomping feet.

It wasn’t a waltz, certainly not a foxtrot. “I do not know this dance,” I declared, managing one step back toward our table and obtuse friends before Runa snagged my wrist.

“Boon number two.” She held up her fingers.

And to think I’d found her attempt to blackmail me earlier charming. She’d been speaking my language, after all. I’d lost count of all the people I’d manipulated over the years. Though I’d expected her to demand something far more dastardly than sweets and dancing. Preferred it, in fact.

“Must I?” I growled.

“You must.”

“Very well.” I sighed, and off we went.

As it turned out, the dance was exhilarating, reminiscent of an Irish jig. The entire group moved as one, coming together with our arms raised and then stomping back to form a larger circle. Being agile and quick on my feet, I picked up the steps with ease.

Runa’s elbow hooked with mine, and we twirled in a circle. The dance floor whirled. Laughter sparked in her eyes. A joyful blush darkened her cheeks. Despite the glamour, she demanded my full attention. I didn’t need to see her true face to know shewas more beautiful than any other female. In this world and mine. It was possible the fates weren’tcompletelymad when they selected her for me.

Dancing with Runa, I felt freer than I had in decades. Unburdened. In that moment, I was no one and yet everyone.

Emotions engulfed me—more than I’d experienced in years. It was odd, taking pleasure from such simple things or pleasure in much of anything, for that matter.

Too soon, the song drew to an end, and we bowed to our partners. My body and mind reeling, I slumped onto a hay bale near the dance floor.

The band started a rowdier tune, and Runa tapped out a smart rhythm before me, tugging my hand. “One more,” she begged.

“You go on,” I demanded.

A posse of dancing females swept by, recruiting Runa into their ranks. She spun away from me, a broad smile upon her lips.

As I observed from the sidelines, contentment rising in my center, a small figure settled beside me on the hay bale. Uninterested in the interloper, I watched Runa twirl. She really was a sight to behold.

Grubby fingers pulled at my sleeve.Tug. Tug.I dragged my attention away from the sorceress to focus on the young boy who sat at my side.

“Your face looks funny,” he declared in a squeaky voice.

In response, I arched a brow and returned to the dancers. The center of my chest drew tight, and I rubbed the ache. What was this?

Tug. Tug.

This time, I didn’t bother glancing down.

“Why does your face look that way?”

The tightness in my chest grew stronger, and my focus sharpened. Something felt off. Could it be the feeling Runa described? I sat straighter, scanning the crowd.

Tug. Tug.

“Her face is strange, too. Why is her face strange?”

“What?” I said absently. Again, that sensation pulsated. Was the guardian near? I scanned those closest to me. None of them appeared divine. Rather, the opposite, in fact. Most stumbled about, fairly inebriated.

Tug. Tug.

At last, I scowled down at the child beside me. It was the little outcast. Bright orange hair stood up at odd angles along his head.