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Numair.

Lara jumps down from her stool and downs the rest of her drink with a crinkle of her nose. “Don’t think you’ve managed to fool me, Neylan, but I must make sure that no girl gets too close to that ray of sunshine.”

“Ray of sunshine?” I repeat incredulously.

She smiles and dashes away into the crowd gathering on a small dance floor between high tables and drinking men as Numair taps the body of the guitar and a rapid tune fills the cellar. Men and women tap the heels of their boots and twirl, laughter spilling through the room.

A scrape of the chair on the stone floor, and Valdus pulls next to me, a Dusty Rumble resting between his metal fingers.

“Thank you,” I say, looking at the crowd pulsing with music, excitement, and freedom. “For showing me The Broken Sands and for letting me meet the rebels.”

“You’ve figured that one out, huh?”

“Devious princess, remember?”

“Clever, not devious.” Valdus looks at the bottom of the glass and adds, “And very reckless.”

A burst of laughter breaks through my lips, fueled by alcohol and something else entirely. Something I’m not yet ready to put a name to.

Valdus drops his glass on the bar before standing up. “Would you like to dance?”

“I don’t…I’m not a good dancer, and I definitely don’t know how to dance to that,” I say, pointing at the crowd swaying to Numair pulling the strings and tapping on the body of the guitar in a fast tempo.

“I know you’ll accept a trade. I teach you how to dance and you answer a single question. No avoiding, no lying.”

“I have never lied to you.”

Valdus shrugs. “Is that a deal, then?”

I put my glass on the bar and accept his offered hand. Holding his metal hand shoots a pleasant shiver up my arm, and I fight the blush that creeps up my cheeks.

We join the dancing crowd, and Valdus shows me the steps everyone is doing in such a rapid succession their feet blur. I stumble as I try it myself, but Valdus’s hand rests lightly on my back, anchoring me in place when I feel like I’m falling even if my feet are steady on the ground. I clear my throat, pull away, look down at my boots, and try again.

It takes me a few more tries before I master the steps, and soon, we are twirling to the rapid tempo. When Lara comes, swaying her hips and clapping her hands, I let her spin me around before she leaves to find someone else, she knows in the crowd.

I watch her go until Valdus tugs on my hand, and I’m facing him again. As he makes me spin, he doesn’t let go of my hand, and everything recedes except the electrifying cold of his hands on my skin, and those brown eyes scorching where he won’t look away from me. Not a princess of Usmad, not a daughter of the emperor, but me. Neylan.

We dance until my kaftan sticks to the skin of my back, and I stumble again. Without a word, Valdus pulls me off the dance floor and toward the bar, motioning to Kyle as soon as we find an empty spot.

“So,” Valdus starts.

Kyle puts down two glasses with what I imagine must be Valdus’s favorite drink, even if he’d rather swirl the liquid than actually drink it.

“So?” I echo, waiting for him to ask the question.

Valdus sets down the glass and turns to me. “Who is Bonar to you?”

“You know who the Nameless One is?”

“Knowledge is one of the few things I value more than silver. I’ve told you that already.”

I chew on my lip, thinking of the best way to describe our relationship. “A friend, I guess.”

“In my world, he either is, or he isn’t. There is no in between.”

I sigh. “I’m not trying to avoid the question. It’s just…I’ve met him once. We’ve talked and laughed and shared, what you would call, a pleasant meal.” Memories unfurl from where I keep them tucked away in my brain. “When the governor…and the rebels…” I rub my scarred brow, unable to say out loud what happened that day. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and start again. “Let’s say when everything happened, he was there for me. He saved my life when he could have left me to die. So, even if I don’t know him well, I would call him a friend. Is that enough for you?”

Valdus never has time to answer. With a thump of his palm on the lower bout of the guitar, the song ends, and the room falls into silence.