Breathe (The Destiny Series: Book 1) (18 page)

Carly was left breathless as she took in the dress before her. “Wow, Dearra! Put it on!”

“Really? You like it?” Dearra bit softly on her lower lip waiting for her friend to answer.

“Dearra…put…the…dress…on.”

“It’s a little early. I mean, shouldn’t we wait? I don’t want to ruin it.”

Carly’s growl so startled Dearra, she jumped a little. “Alright! I’ll put it on, but only if you do, too.”

Together, the young women slipped out of their dressing gowns, and slipped into their dresses. A pretty blush lit Dearra’s face when she saw a bit more of herself than she would have liked reflected back in the mirror.

“Carly, you look so beautiful!” Dearra beamed in admiration at her friend. “No man will be able to look away!”

Carly frowned. Something was wrong. Why, oh, why did she ever design her own dress? It was awful. She should have had one of the other women do it, or Marcus, if he had the time. His gowns were always lovely. What had she been thinking? “I know, Carly,” she said. “It’s too low cut, I’m practically popping out, and it’s too simple, but there isn’t time to do anything about it. Please, tell me it’s alright, Carly. Please don’t frown so.”

“The dress is magnificent, Dearra. You look like a moonbeam that danced in from a dream.”

“Thank you, I think. But then why do you look like that?”

“Two reasons. One, I’m going to lose my best friend to a Breken. There’s no way he will keep his heart after seeing you in that.”

Dearra blushed at her friend’s words but hoped in her heart Carly was right. “You said two reasons. What’s the second?”

“Honestly? I’m afraid that in all the confusion and excitement when we enter the Great Hall, I may miss the expression on Lord Hugh’s face when he sees his ‘little girl’ in that dress.”

The two young women burst into delighted giggles. Dearra turned back to the mirror for a moment and thought to herself,
I really do look pretty
.

Brin had been silent for a long while, so when he spoke, his voice startled her. 
Dearra, you look stunning. There is nothing simply pretty about it. If I were human I would kill the Breken boy and steal you away for myself.

Thank you, Brin.

Don’t mention it, Fuzzy
.

Darius stood in the Great Hall surrounded by the men and boys of Maj, tugging at the neck of his new shirt. Daniel had been right, of course. When he had returned to his room, he had found his new garments laid out on the bed, waiting for him. The sinking sensation he had felt upon seeing the clothing was nothing to what he was experiencing now. If he had been sinking then, he was surely drowning now. He waited anxiously for the activities to start so he could melt into the crowds, feeling completely out of his element.

The garments he wore were not as bad as the lace and pastel nightmares he had imagined. A new pair of shiny, black, knee height boots were on his feet, and although still somewhat stiff, they were nevertheless remarkably comfortable. His pants were a fine, black material he didn’t know the name of. They were fitted and clung to the strong muscles in his legs, making them look even longer and more imposing than they actually were; he quite enjoyed the effect. His shirt was snowy white, fine linen, with loose flowing sleeves, cut to fit his shoulders and broad chest. Lastly, there was a striking black vest, made of silk in the front, and embroidered in thread that exactly matched the gold in his eyes. How Dearra had managed to convey his measurements with such accuracy, or find embroidery floss in just the right color, Darius couldn’t begin to guess. All in all, he found he liked the clothing, but surrounded by the other men who seemed to favor lighter shades, he felt he stood out even more than he would ordinarily have. He would have much preferred to be on the practice fields with Dearra, wearing one of the other, more practical outfits that had been made specifically for him. Somehow, he decided, he would make it through the required celebration and steal away as soon as he was able.

A bell rang, chiming four times, to garner the undivided attention of those assembled. As mistress of Maj Keep, and highest ranking female on the island, Dearra had the honor of leading the women into the hall. At the sight of her glorious perfection, Darius forgot about the shirt that pulled at his neck, forgot the people who surrounded him, and for the full minute as she made her way slowly down the length of the hall, forgot even to breathe. It was as though the gods had taken a moonbeam and wrapped it in starlight to create the vision. The sun shone brightly through the western windows of the hall making her seem to glow in radiance as she floated towards him.

He had always thought her lovely. From that first day, with her hair bound in a braid and that smudge on the tip of her nose, he had never seen a woman to equal her. His body protested the lack of air, and he struggled to take a breath, grateful for the music accompanying the women as they entered, for he was sure, had the room been silent, all would have heard the pounding of his heart as he looked upon Dearra.

The ladies came to the end of the hall, and the men stepped forward. Every woman and girl was honored, either by husband, father, brother, sweetheart, or friend. No female of Maj, whether a child of five or an old woman of one hundred fifty-five, was left to find her seat on her own, each of them proudly escorted by a male of the island. Dearra made her way to the very front of the hall where her father waited to take her arm, and two forms emerged from the crowd. Darius came from her right, and her breath caught when she saw him dressed in his imposing black and bright white garments. For Dearra, he was perfection. When at last she was able to force herself to look away to see who had joined her on her left side, she was shocked to see Jacob, who stood alongside her with his arm held out expectantly.

Hugh stood and stared, dumbstruck at the situation.
Jacob
was trying to claim his daughter? Why hadn’t he seen that coming? Worse, the Breken warrior was there as well, openly stating his interest in Dearra, and in front of all! And what was Dearra doing in that gown? Emmaline would have to answer to Hugh tomorrow. That was certain.

Dearra stood motionless in the incredible triangle long enough for many of the people to have already found their seats in preparation for the feast, and who were now staring at the scene with keen interest. No man took another step toward her.

Though Hugh would have preferred to simply step forward and claim his daughter, tradition dictated that the choice to accept the offered escort was Dearra’s and hers alone.

Dearra was reluctant to offend the volatile Jacob, and equally loath to upset her father, but when she looked at Darius again, she decided she could not and would not give him a reason to think she was disinterested in his attention. His was the arm she had to take.

She turned to Darius, gave a small curtsy of acceptance, and three sounds met her ears at once—there was the collective gasp of the people of Maj as she all but openly declared her interest in the Breken warrior, the hiss from Jacob as he spun in humiliation and stalked from the room, and the almost silent moan that escaped from her father as he stood in front of her. She knew she’d made the right decision when she saw the jubilant flash of Darius’s smile light his face.

Darius took her arm in triumph and then did something she never expected. Darius walked Dearra towards the family table where she sat for meals, but instead of veering off to the side to take her around to her chair, continued to walk straight towards Hugh. Taking his arm from Dearra’s, Darius bowed low, and allowed father to escort daughter the rest of the way. It was a touching gesture, one of respect, and had it not been improper for her to do so she would have thrown her arms around Darius in an embrace of gratitude.

This act of deference was not lost on Hugh, and his opinion of the boy inched higher in that very moment.

Conversation resumed in the hall as the young, unmarried men brought the feast from the kitchens. The women had done their parts yesterday. Today, the women were honored for the role they played, or would someday play, in the continuation of Maj life.

Hugh glanced at his daughter; he could not help but be proud. She was radiant. But oh, that gown! From his height, the boy probably had quite a good view. Respectful gesture or no, if the Breken dog was looking at his daughter, Hugh would skin him where he sat!

Hugh dared to look at Darius, and he saw his anxiety was misplaced, for the boy’s eyes never wavered from Dearra’s. Hugh suppressed a low moan.

This was worse, much, much worse. The way he looked at Dearra was enough to send a chill down Hugh’s spine. For a moment, Hugh almost preferred the boy be distracted by the low cut gown. She was still practically a child, he thought, trying to allay his growing fear, surely he didn’t have to worry about that particular problem for a long time yet.

***

Jacob crept back into the hall, largely unnoticed, and sat sulking in a corner as he glared with venom at the Breken seated at the family table. The fact the mongrel sat beside her pleased him not at all. His ire at the situation grew when he saw the glowing look of happiness on Dearra’s face. He could not understand the attraction. Surely when she looked upon him she could not help but want the very same things as he. How could the Breken dog even begin to compare? As far as Jacob was concerned, the whole situation was intolerable, and he had no doubt Dearra would be his, one way or another.

Hugh stood after the meal had concluded and a hush fell over the room in expectation. “Another season has come and gone,” he said. “We have suffered terrible loss, but we have also been blessed. Today, we temporarily set aside the sadness of our loss and rejoice in our fortune. All efforts to retrieve our most beloved child progress apace. Our success is assured by the brave men and women of Maj, who will overcome any obstacle to triumph against our enemies.”

A roar of approval swept through the hall at his words. Darius squirmed slightly in his seat. The shame he felt at his Breken heritage was never as profound as it was at this moment. Dearra’s hand patted his, hidden from view by the table, and he grasped it for a brief moment, thanking her for her kindness and understanding, and then released it just as quickly.

Hugh continued. “We welcome three additions this year: Cooper, Emily, and Little Hugh. Cooper was born shortly after last Harvest Celebration. He is already walking and leads his mother a merry chase. He will be a fine addition to our island.” Cheers erupted as the proud parents lifted their son for all to see.

“Emily was born in the deep of winter. It was a difficult birth, but she has survived, and if she is anything like her mother, we will all grow fat on her most excellent cooking.” Emily was lifted high to be admired and cooed over, and looks of anticipation flashed on some faces at the thought of another skilled cook filling Maj Hall with delicious smells and flavors.

“And lastly, Little Hugh. He was born only a short time ago. I think it is plain to see that little Hugh is, by far, the most handsome child ever born, and will be a warrior above all others. It’s a shame, really, that the other children will have to compete with him, since he is so obviously superior, by virtue of his namesake.” Laughter rang around the room as Little Hugh was lifted high.

The child was born the day after the Breken attack. His mother, Lily, heavy with child, had not been able to make it to the caves with the others. Hugh had come upon her as one of the fearsome Breken warriors was about to strike her down. They had come for slaves, but a mother so near her time and a squalling newborn were more than they were willing to put up with. Hugh had saved Lily at the last instant. Lily and her husband, Thomas, had been so grateful to Hugh they had named their first born son after the Lord of Maj. Hugh had doted on the infant ever since, proclaiming him the very best of all the babies.

Hugh beamed at the assembled crowd. “Enough words! Let us push back the tables and enjoy the evening’s festivities!”

There was a flurry of activity and the loud scraping of benches and tables being moved tightly against the walls. The musicians tuned their instruments, and all eyes turned to Dearra and Darius.

“What are they looking at us for?” Darius whispered to Dearra. The question was rhetorical; he knew exactly why all of Maj was staring at them. He knew that, as Lady of the keep, it was Dearra’s honor to lead the dance with her chosen partner, but his mind refused to accept it.

“They are waiting for you to lead me in the dance.”

“Dearra…I…we…Breken don’t dance.”

She grinned at him. “That’s okay.
I
do. Come on, now, or they will think you a coward.”

The thought of being labeled a coward sounded just fine with Darius if it got him out of this hideous predicament, but then Dearra took him by the hand and led him to the very center of the room. She placed his hand at her waist, put one hand on his sleeve, and then took his other hand in hers. Had he not been afraid over his imminent humiliation, he might have enjoyed the intimacy of the moment. As it was, he felt like a lumbering fool, towering over his diminutive partner.

The music started with soft notes that began to build. Dearra took one step, and then another. He was naturally graceful, his years of battle experience had seen to that, but the dance was wholly unfamiliar, and he struggled to follow where Dearra led him. Thankfully, it was only a few moments before others streamed onto the dance floor, and they were no longer center of attention. He tried to not be the clumsy oaf he felt, but still he ended up on her toes more often than not.

Dearra didn’t even flinch at what must have been a painful assault to her poor feet, but continued to smile as they moved about the floor.

“Dearra?”

“Yes?”

“You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Don’t be foolish. You’re doing just fine. I’m having a wonderful time.”

“You are?”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Darius thought that, remarkably, she sounded as though she really meant it. He was half convinced there was something to this dance stuff when a sharp tap at his shoulder had him spinning around, fists cocked at the ready.

Jacob sneered. “Lovely manners, Breken,” he said. “Here we simply allow a gentleman to cut in without trying to attack him.”

Darius realized this was some custom of the dance and flushed with embarrassment over his ignorance.

“I am not yet ready to switch partners, but I thank you for the offer, Jacob,” Dearra said sweetly, and reached for Darius’s arm.

“You wouldn’t want people to talk, would you, Dearra? Surely your reputation has suffered enough, what with you allowing the Breken to bed in the same room as you through your, uh, illness.”

Darius was toe to toe with Jacob in an instant. An enraged growl leapt from Darius’s throat and a superior smirk formed on Jacob’s face.

“You go too far, Jacob,” Darius snarled.

“This is my home, Breken dog, not yours. Go back to your homeland and breed with your own kind.”

A high yip pierced the air, loud enough to sound over the milling crowds and music. Reo darted into the hall and broke between Darius and Jacob, putting both paws on Darius’s chest.

“Sorry, Darius.” Royce panted, clearly trying to catch his breath. “I only went to your room to see if he was lonely, and the next thing I know he darts right by me. I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine, Royce,” Dearra said. Her voice sounded calm, but her hands shook as she struggled to calm her anger.

“Darius, why don’t you take Reo outside? He’s been cooped up too long, and I know his presence here makes some people nervous. I will have my dance with Jacob now, and then, when you return, you and I can continue with ours.”