high glossy boots and long crimson coat. He even had a cutlass hanging from his belt. “Are you supposed to be a pirate?”
Jak scowled at her. “So cruel, fair Lena.” He plucked up her hand and kissed it, bowing with a dramatic flourish. “I bought this in Jofarstyrr and thought it would be perfect for tonight.”
“It is perfect,” Gendra assured him with perfect sincerity—and giving Lena a reproving glare. “You look very handsome.”
“Ah, sweet Gendra!” Jak whirled her into his arms and spun her in a few steps of a waltz. “And you look dazzlingly lovely tonight. Say you’ll save every dance for me.”
She giggled, and Zeph made a face. “Except for when you’re dancing with us,” she called.
“Bah.” Jak didn’t even pause, spinning Gendra faster. “I know how this goes. You will be drooling over Astar, and Lena will be mooning after Rhy. A plain sailor like me doesn’t stand a chance.”
“And Stella won’t notice Jak is alive,” Zeph murmured to Lena, who agreed with a rueful smile. Jak had his Dasnarian father’s height, but his loose-limbed and agile bone structure was all from his mother, Jepp. He had her keen dark eyes, dusky skin, and brown hair, too—and all of her zesty lack of restraint.
“But I forget!” Jak whirled Gendra to an abrupt halt, kissing her hand, too. “I am commanded to escort you ladies to the private salon Astar arranged for our merry crew. I was sent to seek you out. Now that I have, you are my prisoners, and you must face the censure of your king.” He winked. “Or the high king in waiting, which as good as the likes of us will get.”
That was where Astar and Stella had taken Rhyian. And where Jak intended to take them. Lena’s heart jammed in her throat, choking her breath away, and she felt abruptly far too warm. “I… have to go check in with my parents,” she stammered. “Tell me where, and I’ll join you. Later.”
The look all three gave her was far too knowing.
“Don’t be absurd, lovely Lena.” Jak hooked her arm firmly over his. “The kings and queens are not thinking of us—for once in our lives—and we have toasts to make. The seven of us, together again. This will be a night to remember.”
Lena dragged her feet, but Zeph poked her in the back, she and Gendra falling in behind them to prevent escape. “The Feast of Moranu is a night for forgiveness and renewal,” Gendra reminded her.
“You can’t forgive someone who isn’t sorry,” Lena retorted over her shoulder.
“Of course you can,” Jak replied cheerfully. “People forgive me all the time, and I’ve never once been sorry.”
“Besides,” Zeph said, “how do you know he isn’t sorry?”
“The tiny fact that he’s never said so,” Lena muttered.
“He can’t apologize if you won’t speak to him,” Gendra put in.
“I’ve never not been speaking to him,” Lena protested.
All three very loudly said nothing.
“I’ve been busy,” she added into their accusing silence. “In the Aerron Desert.”
“Yes, darling Lena.” Jak patted her hand on his arm, as if that made up for the vise grip she had on him. “We know.” Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, he darted in to kiss her cheek. “And we love you. Let’s all just set aside any differences and have fun tonight.”
“Bless Moranu, yes,” Zeph agreed fervently.
Neatly trapped, Lena turned with them into the small salon, where Astar, Stella, and Rhyian sat in a conversation circle of ornately upholstered chairs and sofas. Rhyian’s cobalt-blue eyes immediately fastened on hers—immobilizing her like a snake strike to the heart.
~ 3 ~
And there she was. Salena. Looking like she’d stepped out of his fantasies. Rhy couldn’t look away. He was dimly aware he sat riveted to the spot, frozen like an idiot, holding a goblet of truly excellent Branlian whiskey in his hand, but he seemed unable to do anything about it.
Of course he’d known that she’d grow up in the intervening years, but Salena had truly become a woman as formidable as her namesake’s reputation. With the wide, angled cheekbones of the Nahanauns, bronze skin and a full, generous mouth, Salena’s face had matured from the pretty blossom of her teens into mesmerizing beauty. Her gleaming hair was the color of rich caramel kissed by the sun, and her thick, dark lashes framed her Tala blue eyes, full of magic and sharp intelligence. She wore white—an unfair reminder, there—lavishly embroidered with pearls and small crystals, which caught the light and