to show what she wanted to see, and she had to remember that.
“Yes, why?”
“You made a sound, like you hurt yourself.”
“These shoes pinch. And I’m with Gendra. Why do you say ‘oh-ho, it’s like that’ with Astar and Zeph?”
He gave them a pitying look. “Obviously Zeph has finally decided to seduce our noble and innocent Willy.”
“Then he is a virgin,” Lena murmured to herself, and Rhyian flashed her an amused smile.
“Sadly, yes. But with Zeph on the job, he won’t last out the night.”
“He has to!” Gendra exclaimed. “Rhy, you have to help us keep her away from him.”
Rhyian looked genuinely surprised. “Why? It’s past time for him, and he could do far worse than Zeph.”
“No, he couldn’t,” Gendra argued. “Zeph is the worst possible choice. She’s way too much for him. She’s been with half of Annfwn.”
“At least,” he agreed. “And all of them very happy for the experience.”
“Including you?” Lena asked, regretting it instantly.
Rhy gave her an opaque look and an enigmatic smile. “Zeph is my friend, so I’m not going to dignify that with an answer. But to address Gendra’s point, Astar is a grown man. If he wants to sample Zeph’s charms—as she so clearly wishes to sample his—then more power to them both. It’s not like they’d be hurting anyone.”
“They would,” Gendra insisted, tears in her eyes, and Lena put her hand over Gendra’s on her arm. “Sex changes everything, Rhy!” Gendra spat, seeming not to notice Lena’s touch. “Only a few moments ago, we vowed to be friends forever, and you should know better than anyone what two of us pairing off does to the rest. It’s wrong and unfair.”
They’d all come to a halt just shy of the ballroom. Rhyian glanced at Lena ruefully, and she shared the discomfort. Gendra, clearly regretting her outburst, looked between them. “I mean, I…”
“It’s all right, Gen,” Lena said, patting her friend’s hand. “Rhyian and I handled things badly, not thinking about how it would affect all of you. We’ve already decided to do better—and be only friends in the future.”
“Is that what we decided?” Rhyian murmured, throwing her words back at her with a smile that didn’t reach his hot blue eyes.
“Yes,” she told him decisively, meaning it.
“Oh,” Gendra huffed in exasperation. “Why am I even saying this to you two? I’m wasting my breath, and valuable dancing time.”
Lena frowned, turning to take Gendra’s hands. She’d been so busy with her job in the desert that she couldn’t recall the last time they’d had a heart-to-heart conversation. “What’s going on, honey?”
Gendra yanked her hands away and glared at both of them. “Neither of you could possibly understand. I’m off to find someone to dance with.”
“Hey,” Rhyian called after her, “I thought you promised me a dance.”
She flung a rude gesture over her shoulder. “Not one of my supposed friends.” And she plunged into the whirl of dancers.
Lena rounded on Rhyian. “What was that all about?”
He considered her, leaning languidly against the archway. The garland of moonflowers dripping with crystals and pearls framed his dark and seductive self, a rivetingly masculine version of Moranu, the avatar of all the deepest night offered—unseen dangers, and also delights never beheld in the light of day. “How should I know?” he purred.
She had to drag her thoughts back to the conversation. “You should know because you’re Gendra’s best friend, and you see her every day.”
“Not every day,” he mused. “At least, not lately.”
“Far more than I do,” she insisted.
“What’s stopping you?”
“I’ve been in Aerron. Gendra rarely leaves Annfwn,” she retorted, “and I—” She skidded to a mental halt, abruptly aware of the treacherous ground she found herself treading.
“And you never come to Annfwn,” he finished for her, his eyes fastened on hers, sparking with annoyance. “Are you claiming that’s my fault?”
Lena faltered, breathless as she felt her toes on the edge of the precipice of the chasm between them. “I don’t want to have this conversation,” she whispered.
He straightened from his indolent slouch. “Well, we’re in the middle of it now. Annfwn is a big place. Did you really never visit Gendra all these years because of me?”
“No.” Yes. “I’ve been busy,” she added, far too defensively.
Smiling slightly, he shook his head. “It’s been a long time, Salena, but I haven’t forgotten how to read you. You ran away to avoid me—and have avoided me for seven years.”
“You knew where to find me,” she shot back, her face hot with embarrassment.
He inclined his head. “I was a coward, too. I