The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [19]
They sauntered over to the table, and Regnet immediately busied himself with a flirtation. Danilo applauded his choice. The girl was a merry lass with red-gold hair, laughing gray eyes, and dimples that flashed in genuine good humor. Her voice might be rough with the accents of the shantytowns of Dock Ward, but there was nothing blunt about her wit.
"Don't be taking this amiss," she advised Regnet, "but you'd best be moving on. There's a moor fire burning this way."
Danilo followed the line of her gaze and burst out laughing. Myrna Cassalanter advanced, her gaze intent upon Regnet. With her scarlet hair and even brighter gown, she did rather resemble a wind-driven blaze. Moor fires were considered terrible omens, and in practical terms the burning bog gasses left a foul scent behind. Dan could not imagine a better description of Myrna, a gossipmonger by profession and inclination, than that supplied by the barmaid.
When Myrna had dragged her prey away to the dancing, Danilo lifted his glass to the serving girl in silent salute. She responded with a quick, impish smile and then a shrug.
"I've seen enough of such things to name them true."
"Bog fires?" Dan inquired with a grin.
"Wouldn't that be fine!" the girl replied wistfully. "No, I've never stepped beyond these city walls."
He helped himself to a bottle from the table and refilled his glass. There was no self-pity in the girl's voice, but he recognized the sound of genuine longing-and the echo of his own restless nature. "Where would you go?"
She shrugged again. "Anywhere that doesn't smell of fish and ale would suit me fine."
Danilo laughed and captured a ripe apricot from the tray of a passing servant. "These help a bit, when I'm feeling restless. Taste it, and see if the flavor doesn't conjure images of warm sunshine and distant lands."
"Oh, I dare not eat on duty," she protested, although she considered the fruit as if it were a rare gem. "Besides, if I pocket it, folks might think ill of me."
He nodded, understanding this. Thievery by servants was severely punished. Even so, it didn't seem right to deny them the festive fare they helped to serve. "Give me your name, then, and I'll have some sent to you."
"Will you, now?" she retorted with good-natured skepticism. "Along with a case of that elven wine, I suppose…"
Her words faded as something seized her attention. Danilo followed the line of her gaze and grimaced. Not far away, an exceedingly curvaceous young woman was dancing with an amorous nobleman. Both partners' hands were far busier than their feet. Normally, Danilo would not consider this odd-after all, the attention Myrna lavished upon Regnet was even less subtle-but he had reason to distrust this particular woman. It would seem that Sofia the pickpocket was having a bit of a problem with her transition to Lady Isabeau.
"Excuse me," he murmured as he set down his glass.
A look of deep consternation flashed across the girl's pretty face. "Have a care with that one, sir. Looks fine as frog's hair, she does, but I've seen things. That one is trouble."
"You've a very good eye," he commented as he began to move away. "Thank you for your advice. I shall bear it in mind."
"Lilly," she said abruptly.
He turned back, lifting one brow in inquiry.
"My name," the girl explained. "Just wanted you to be knowing it. Your name, I'm already knowing." She grinned again. "It's been spoken."
"Yes, I can imagine," he said dryly, enjoying the woman's wry, impish humor-even when it came at his expense. He touched his forehead in parting salute. "Lilly, it has been a rare pleasure."
He deftly intercepted Isabeau from her partner and danced her as unobtrusively as possible into an alcove.
As soon as no eyes were upon them, Isabeau pulled away. She squared her shoulders, not so much in defiance as to better frame the expanse of feminine charm displayed between her ruby necklace and her low-laced gown.
"Calling in your debts, Lord Thann?" she said mockingly. "A tryst, in exchange for my rescue