Page 30 of North Queen
Her words dropped as a poignant melody filled the hall, and she stopped. She knew this song. Norah turned and stared at the string orchestra as they played the familiar tune. A wave of nostalgia rippled through her, leaving her light-headed.
“Are you all right?” Alexander asked, stepping forward and ever so lightly catching her arm.
Her mind blurred.
“Norah?” Catherine asked. Her voice was distant.
“I know this song,” she breathed. “I know this dance.”
Alexander leaned closer. “You remember ‘Allameade’?”
“Allameade.”Yes, that’s what it was called.She nodded and glanced at Catherine, who stared back at her, wide-eyed.
“Do you remember anything else?” he asked, eagerness growing in his voice.
She shook her head and closed her eyes, listening. “Just the dance, the music. I know it.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him. Before Catherine could object, she grabbed his arm. “Come with me,” she said breathlessly as she pulled him to the center of the hall amid others dancing, who readily made way.
They stood for a moment, facing each other. She bit her lip at his humble unease, trying to hold back a laugh, and then bowed, inviting him. He hesitated, then returned the bow, accepting.
They brought their right arms up together in a twist, but not touching. Their eyes met as they circled one another and then changed arms. For someone who seemed so reluctant, he knew the movements well, she mused. She did too.
He held his arm out to the side as she moved in a series of steps around him, through the story of the song. They carried themselves in the arrangement across the floor. He slipped behind her and curved his arm around her, but he was careful to keep ever the faintest of space between them. That was the challenge of this intricate dance: two people unable to touch, unable to truly be as one. She drew her arm across her chest between them, reaching back and stroking the air, down the length of his arm, then out to her side.
They moved in unison, losing themselves to the melody and in their closeness to each other. She turned in step to face him as he reached up and brought his palm so close to her cheek she could feel the warmth of his hand. Still, he didn’t touch her. His eyes burned with a wild intensity and stirred something wild inside her.
The song ended, and their closeness left her breathless.
His lips parted—a question seemed to linger on them—but he didn’t speak it. Instead, he took her hand and bowed, placing a gentle kiss on the back of her fingers.
“Well done, Your Highness. Thank you for that. It was a pleasant surprise.” Then he straightened, his formality returning, and Norah realized all eyes in the room were on them. His voice came quieter now. “I should see you back to your grandmother.”
Her head felt light as he swept her back to the company of the regent, who cast her a disapproving eye.
“Your Highness,” Alexander said to Norah with another bow of his head. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” He gave a small bow to Catherine. “Queen Regent.” His eyes again locked with Norah’s in a gaze that haunted the shadows of her mind. Then he took his leave to the other side of the hall.
“When invited, Norah,” her grandmother chided in a harsh whisper. “You can’t just go fluttering about and pulling men in to dance.”
But Norah paid no mind to Catherine’s chastisement. Her heart raced. She had been here before. Even though she had no memory, she knew the dance to “Allameade.” She knew the bright light of Alexander’s eyes.
Her heart beat even faster.
She knew the feel of his lips on her skin.
Chapter nine
Alexandermadehiswaytoward James’s chamber, taking the stairs two at a time. The councilman had been in Damask when Norah had returned, and it surprised Alexander he’d arrived back so quickly. Damask was two days’ ride away. James had to have left as soon as the bird’s message had arrived, then ridden through the night. Perhaps that shouldn’t be a surprise. The entire kingdom had been waiting for Norah’s return.
The seer had painted the vision of Norah in the forest before her father had taken her. Alexander hadn’t known what it had meant then. He hadn’t known she’d be lost to him. It was only after King Aamon had died, taking the secret of her location with him, that James thought the painting was a clue to finding her. More than that, James had believed it was part of Alexander’s destiny to bring her home. Alexander had wanted to believe that, so much that he had dreamt about it night and day.
For three years, he’d searched the forests throughout the kingdom, and even those beyond Mercia’s borders. For three years, he’d returned alone. Until he had ventured where no men dared to go, the land from which men did not return—the Wild. He should have gone sooner, but it was a place he truly hadn’t expected to find her.
But he had.
A deep pride swelled within him as he walked the long hall. There had been so many times he’d doubted, so many times he’d feared failure and that Norah would be lost to him forever. And he’d feared disappointing James. No one could take the place of Alexander’s father, the great Beurnat the Bear, but James had always been like a father—guiding him, coaching him, loving him, even.
Alexander caught himself and cast his pride aside. This wasn’t his accomplishment. This was his duty, his obligation to both Norah and Mercia, his promise to his father and to James. He could be happy and grateful, but he couldn’t be prideful.
He reached the councilman’s chamber and knocked on the door.
