night with a girl locked in a tent.”
My face turns so red I’m positive it clashes with the golden hues of my dress. “I guess the other night was my first time spending the night with a boy.”
Tzain snorts. “Was it everything you ever dreamed?”
“I don’t know…” I press my finger to my lips. “I always imagined less bondage.”
To my surprise a laugh breaks free, louder than any he’s had in my presence. The sound makes my chest swell. I haven’t made anyone laugh this loud since Binta. Unspoken words swim inside me, but before I can respond, a giggle catches our attention.
I shift to find Zélie a few tents away, dancing at the edge of the crowd. She laughs as she sips on a bottle of palm wine, spinning a divîner child round and round. Though I smile at her joy, Tzain’s face darkens into the sadness he showed in the tent. But all sadness fades when Tzain spots Inan. My brother stares at Zélie like she’s the single red rose in a garden of white.
“Do you see that?” I grab Tzain’s hand and pull him toward a circle of cheering divîners. A flutter erupts in my stomach when his hand wraps back over mine.
Tzain’s broad shoulders part the crowd like a herder moving through a flock of sheep. Within moments we reach the vibrant dancer in the center of the circle, bursting with exuberance and life. Her beaded dress sparkles in the moonlight, accentuating every shake and roll of her hips. Each curve of her body circles to the beat, electrifying the crowd with every thrust.
Tzain nudges me forward and I grip his arm. “What in skies’ name are you doing?”
“Get in,” he laughs. “It’s time I see your moves.”
“You’ve had too much ogogoro,” I laugh.
“What if I go?” Tzain asks. “If I do it, will you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Tzain, I said no—”
He jumps into the circle, startling the dancer, causing the whole crowd to step back. For a long moment he doesn’t make a move, studying everyone with mock seriousness pasted on his face. But when the horns of the song ring, he practically explodes in dance. He shakes and pops like fire ants have been dropped in his pants.
I laugh so hard I cannot breathe, gripping the divîner next to me to stay upright. Each move he makes incites more cheers, causing the circle of onlookers to double in size.
As he shakes his shoulders and drops to the ground, the dancing girl joins back in, twirling around the space. My skin prickles as she moves, seduction dripping from each roll of her hips. She fixes Tzain with a flirtatious gaze that makes me grimace. How can I be surprised? With his kind smile, his strong, imposing frame—
Calloused hands wrap around my wrists. Large hands. Tzain’s hands.
“Tzain, no!”
His mischief overpowers my fright. Before I know it, I stand in the center of the circle. I freeze, paralyzed as countless eyes land on me. I turn to escape, but Tzain holds me tight, spinning me for the world to see.
“Tzain!” I shriek, but my terror dissolves into a laughter I cannot stop. Excitement swirls through me as we move, my two left feet somehow catching the beat. For a moment the crowd disappears and I only see Tzain—his smile, his kind brown eyes.
I could live an eternity like this, spinning and laughing in the safety of his arms.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
INAN
ZÉLIE HAS NEVER LOOKED more beautiful than she does now.
Hand in hand with a young divîner boy, she shines in her soft purple dress, a twirling goddess among the crowd. The sea-salt scent of her soul rises above the vast aromas of festival foods. It hits me with full force.
An ocean tide pulling me in.
Watching her, it’s almost easy to forget about the maji. The monarchy. Father. In this moment, all I can think about is Zél. Her smile lights the world like a full moon on a starless night.
When she can twirl no longer, she gives the child a hug. He squeals when she plants a kiss on his forehead. But as soon as he runs off, three young men step forward to take his place.
“Excuse me—”
“Hi, I’m Deka—”
“You look lovely tonight—”
I smile as they try to charm her. Each squawks over the other. While they chatter, I wrap my hand around Zélie’s side and squeeze.
“May I have this dance?”
She whips around, outraged. Then she realizes it’s me. As she smiles, I’m struck with her delight. Then longing.