Dance With the Enemy Read Free Page A

would be forced into becoming civil neighbors after being at odds for nearly a century. The Courts would demand it, especially with Princess Damalenya’s line continuing their cause, claiming the death of the Aleone man should have served as punishment enough and that the exile as a whole was unjust.
    Damn their claim! Zanak had been wronged. Life had been lost there too. The woman, marked for someone else, had given birth to a child, a scrawny boy with hair the color of honeyed cinnamon, not long before the woman’s death. And soon after, the child had died as well. How could they not believe the punishment was just? And what did it matter to him? He would not be paired with the daughter of his enemy. As absurd as the reasoning for these pairings seemed, so that the royal bloodlines would remain pure and strong, idiocy in the matches did not appear to rein. Thankfully.
    The dark gray breeches of the softest leather received a rough thrust into black boots before the warrior straightened, towering over the man sent to assist him. He paid little heed to the corisan, bellowing instead for Nema. The older woman breezed in, pride simmering in the depths of her eyes nearly as dark as Tahruk’s blue-black ones. She looked him over, her neck craning toward the ceiling to take in all of him.
    “A finer man among the elite has never been, my lord.” Her voice cracked, garnering a sharp scowl from the young warrior. She chuckled, nonplused by his dark demeanor, and brushed away an errant tear. “Your chosen will be honored to carry your blood, and your children.”
    Tahruk huffed, pushing back a strand of the night black hair as it escaped its leather tie. “Were my chosen here to see me … perhaps. Though, if she were, I would surely know,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
    “As you say.” Nema pointed to a chair near the garden door of Tahruk’s chamber. “Now sit so I may properly bind your hair. You have a long night ahead of you.”
    He stared at her for a few moments before complying, both of them continuing in silence -- the warrior’s thoughts returned to the feeling that gnawed his insides, Nema on what she believed she knew to be true. If she was right, tonight would change the course of the young master’s life.
    “Why do you smile, Nema? You look as guilty as a cat whose mouth is full of yellow feathers.” His eyes locked with hers in the reflection of the gazing glass before him. “What do you know?”
    “No more than you.” Her gaze was steady, lips thinned after she answered.
    “My senses tell me nothing.” One fine brow shot up.
    “You have already said as much.”
    Tahruk watched, knowing her shrewd senses were on alert. She would know, perhaps even before he knew himself, that his body sensed the presence of his chosen . “Your intuition tells you otherwise?”
    The older woman who had always been a part of his life, who had acted as his nursemaid and governess when he was young, sat at the family table, and took the same liberties as any other family member didn’t answer at first. Instead she stared out the garden door appearing to look beyond the lovely flowers.
    Tahruk’s heartbeat quickened, his mouth drying as he watched her, relaxing only slightly when she shrugged her bony shoulders.
    “We all wait in anticipation, my lord. Each year, you go to the ceremony while we idle away the hours, hopeful your chosen will be among the maidens and the match will be superior. Until she arrives, it will be so.”
    The warrior stood, drawing the older woman’s gaze back to him. She smiled. He returned the gesture before pulling her to him. “You are a terrible liar, Nema.”.
    Her aged cackle rose into the air as she pushed him away. “An old woman is unfit for the arms of a mighty warrior when fair maidens await, my lord. And you shall much sooner find your answer there than here.” She shooed him toward the chamber’s door with a look over her shoulder. “See, the Dremis moon has begun