When We Were Dancing (The Wolf of Oberhame Book 2)

by Auryn Hadley

"Oh yeah," he purred, taunting her. "Makes a man moan like nothing else." With yet another laugh, he pulled the shirt on, then winked. "Maybe we should teach noble women about the idea and create all sorts of excitement in their marriages. Did you know it's possible to do it in other positions besides just laying on your back?"

  She gasped and smacked at the air in his direction. "I think you enjoy this too much."

  "Maybe, but you didn't answer the question."

  Rummaging in her wardrobe, she said, "No. I don't even want to know how you could make those parts fit together in another position."

  "So, you just lay there, clutching the sheets and praying for conception, huh? You'd think with as many mistresses as noblemen have, they'd learn how to at least get their wife to writhe a bit."

  "Not listening!"

  She chose a pale purple dress that would be appropriate. In her mind, she remembered the one time she'd walked in on him with one of those rich patrons. The woman had been on her back, clutching the sheets - but she'd been writhing. Leyli could remember every detail of that accidental glimpse. Before her cheeks could start to turn red, she pulled off her training clothes.

  Tristan leaned against the open wardrobe door, his eyes looking over her body, but his face was serene. "The scar on your side healed well."

  The one on her breast. "Yeah. Will you lace me up?"

  His smile grew and he ducked his head to hide it. "Sure, after you get that on. It's a good color."

  She stepped into the gown, shifting it across her body. "Tristan, how do I play this part? How do I convince them that I'm not trying to be a man, yet will be capable of ruling the country?"

  "Be a goddess." He moved closer, lifting her hair over her shoulder to reach the laces. "They're just nobles. You're so much more. Embrace that. I think the goddess of war is a good choice." He bent close to her ear as his hands worked. "She wears dresses, too, and prefers a shield."

  "Does she have a companion that she trusts above all else?" Leyli looked back at him.

  His shoulders slumped. It was slight, but she noticed. "Yes. Her lover."

  Leyli swallowed. "What are we doing?"

  "Ignoring it. That line is still clear in the sand, and I am not going to cross it, Highness." His lip twitched as his smile began to fail.

  "Tristan." She turned to him.

  He stepped back. "Ley, don't. I'm a farmer's boy. I'll protect you. I'll respect you. I'll even adore you, but that line is there for a reason. It has to be."

  "I know. Dad wants me to look at my offers for marriage. I'm not sure I can be impartial."

  "Why do you have to marry so quickly, anyway?"

  "Heirs. If something happens to me, my cousin inherits the throne. The same cousin that sold me into the games."

  He nodded, accepting that. "So, what about alliances?"

  "Not many left to make, it seems. Even less with enough power to influence Norihame."

  "So pick the man you like the most. Seems simple to me." He shrugged. "It's how commoners do it."

  "Not us. I have to consider his family's personal guard, their wealth, the potential relatives that could become tied to my son's succession, and more. It's also typical to offer a financial transaction of some kind. Lands, money, that sort of thing."

  "Happiness? Love?"

  She shook her head. "Those are commodities that nobles do not trade in."

  "Then how do you live together?"

  A laugh slipped out. "Typically, we don't. Once a week, the wife does her duty to her husband until she's sure she's pregnant. After that, he entertains himself with hunting, politics, and whoring."

  "Ley, nothing about your position is typical. You are not his chattel, to be used until the babies start coming. You're going to be the Queen of Norihame. You will be the one summoning him like a well trained stud. Remember, you are the one in control, not your future husband."

  She nodded. "Help me, Tristan? I'm not sure I can do this alone."

  "I will always be there, Ley. Always, even when I hate what you have to do." He pushed her hair back to where it'd started, then smoothed the sides of her gown. "Always. And tomorrow, I want you to help me find five other men who will help me keep your cousin from hurting you again."

  "He didn't hurt me."

  His hand moved higher up her ribs, until his thumb could trace the scar tissue through the fabric. "He's the reason you got that, pup. Your father told me to protect you, and that bastard won't be happy until the throne belongs to a dragon instead of my Wolf."

  His Wolf. Not a wolf, but his. Leyli licked her lips, refusing to smile at the remark, then nodded. "I assume you have a few men in mind?"

  "Yeah," Tristan assured her. "Like the one that managed to get a killing blow on me in practice."

  "Ok. So what are you looking for in my new guardsmen? I guess we don't want anymore gladiators."

  He chuckled. "Yeah, pup, we do. I need men to guard the first female heir to the throne. They need to be smart, skilled, and know how to fight dirty. I think gladiators is a pretty damned good description."

  Chapter 3

  That evening, Tristan was announced as Secor before the entire court. Dressed in clothes similar to the guards, his uniform was black leather with brass fittings, and meant to be not only beautiful but functional. Leyli thought he looked even more glorious for it. She wasn't the only one. The ladies' eyes followed his entrance. The lords marked him as a man to keep from their wives.

  And Palino, the cousin who had abducted her and left her to die as a gladiator, glared.

  The fool had no idea Leyli had seen him that night. He assumed she'd been too panicked to do more than scream and thrash. Since she'd been freed, neither her nor her father had said a thing. They were walking a fine line, pretending to be ignorant of his plans while building a case that would end with the bastard convicted of treason. Leyli's testimony was little more than hearsay, but a few more witnesses could seal his fate.

  Which was why Tristan had been given his position. The Secor was an old title, one that hadn't been used in generations. The bearer was outside the court hierarchy. He bowed to no one, not even his charge. His duty was to serve as protector and advisor to the heir or ruler. In other words, it was no different than a tandem partner in the gladiatorial games. Tristan and Leyli would live or die together. The title made it acceptable to the nobility in court.

  The King described the position to the assembly using words like companion, confidant, and shadow. He made it clear that Tristan would never be far from her side, and that his rank removed social stigma from his relationship with the Princess, regardless of her gender. Tristan's responses were all given in a calm, cold voice. In just one day, he'd figured out how best to fit into his place in society. If the lords feared him, they were less likely to cause problems, so he became terrifying.

  Once the ordeal was over, Tristan moved to her side, keeping his place just behind her chair. A few other minor nuisances were handled, then dinner was served. This was the life Leyli had grown up with. To her, it was a typical day, but her time as a gladiator had changed her. What used to be expected was now tedious. The life she'd dreamed of sounded like misery. No longer did she wish to be nothing more than a quiet and obedient wife. Now, Leyli wanted to improve the country, and her father had put her in the position to do it.

  Sitting at his right hand while they ate, she leaned closer to her father. "Dad, I want to invite Theodian to court."

  "Who?" Like her, he kept his voice down.

  "The man who owned my second team. The one that was kind. He offered to help me understand how the games are tied into our judicial system."

  Ilario lifted his glass of wine and took a drink, his eyes roaming the people around them. Before he answered, he took a long breath, sounding tired. "The games have kept taxes low for almost thirty years. They pay for themselves. I know it's disgusting, but our people need to keep enough money to eat, not pay for sheltering criminals."

  "I know," she assured him
. "But they don't need to live in fear of losing their children because they tried to buy an education. Starting a new trade - one outside the family traditions - isn't a reason to die. Dad, no one's life is worth a debt!" She was hissing with vehemence by the last sentence.

  He nodded once, showing he was truly listening. "So the person who sold the goods or service should just accept the theft? It's a crime, Leyli, no different than taking jewels from inside a house. Someone needs to pay for it, and I don't think it should be the victim."

  "Which is why I want to talk to Theodian." She snatched her own wine glass and took a sip before she ended up yelling. "You're trying to make this into a yes or no situation. I'm trying to find the middle ground. Why couldn't debtors be sold to work the compost heaps or clean the latrines? Do they really need to die because they borrowed money and couldn't pay it back?"

  "And who would oversee them?" the King asked.

  Leyli shrugged. "No idea. Kinda why I wanted to get more information. It's a twisted and convoluted subject, but one I think can be improved for everyone's benefit."

  Ilario looked over her shoulder. "What do you think, Lion?"

  "I think she's right. I think many poor farmers refuse to take any risks, even changing crops, because they don't want to become a gladiator." He shifted, clasping his hands behind his back but still standing proudly. "I think that seven years ago in Lenlochlien, my family planted wheat knowing it was too dry, but were terrified to try anything different and go into debt."

  "Ah, yes," Ilario muttered. "I do remember that." Then he turned to his daughter. "Invite your man. Remind him that this is court, not the arena, and I expect him and his staff to present themselves properly. We can't push the nobility too far, Leyli."

  She nodded emphatically. "Theodian will be fine. And I'll show you my plan before anyone else sees it, ok?"

  Ilario chuckled. "Except Tristan, I'm sure."

  She flipped her hand back toward the Lion. "He doesn't count."

  "I think he counts for plenty, and you should appreciate him."

  "Sire," Tristan said softly, "I know my place."

  "And that is?" The King lifted a brow, but the smile on his face was teasing.

  Tristan glanced at the people around them before answering. "At her back, sire, reading her mind."

  "He is supposed to serve as a confidant," Leyli reminded her father.

  Ilario nodded. "And one should never take those for granted. True friends are a rare thing, child. They are never something that doesn't count."

  "Then let me rephrase that." Leyli tilted her head and stuck out her chin, daring her father to disagree. She was also smiling. "Of course my Lion will see everything before you. He doesn't count as anyone else because he's above that."

  The King reached for his glass, then tilted it at the Secor. "I can agree to that. The man who kept my little girl alive is most certainly above everyone else in my book."

  She'd been relieved when her father was willing to work so hard to find him. Now that the King seemed to be not only accepting, but also fond of her best friend? Leyli was thrilled. Life was a lot easier when her dad agreed with her.

  That night, she finally found a maid, recommended by one of the girls who'd been giggling over Tristan during their sparring session. Unlike the idiot Lady Brentano had loaned her, this one's attitude was amiable. When Leyli returned to her rooms after dinner to dress down, the girl was ready. She sat Leyli before a mirror and started removing the pins in her hair, chatting about more appealing styles they should try in the future. Then Tristan walked in.

  Leyli saw him through the mirror first. He'd taken off the formal layers, leaving only a loose shirt, pulled free of his tight leather pants. The laces at his throat hung open to expose the hard lines of his chest. The next thing she noticed was the maid staring in wonder, her hands still working calmly on Leyli's hair.

  "Fiona, have you met Tristan, yet?"

  She shook her head. "No, Highness. I've seen him, of course."

  Leyli looked at her partner in the glass. "He's hard to miss. Do you think it's his size, or his nearly god-like beauty?"

  Fiona gasped, turning to Leyli. "Highness? I wouldn't presume to say."

  Tristan laughed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "She's trying to make me blush, Fiona. Have you ever succeeded, Ley?"

  "Nope, but I'm not willing to quit. Consider it payback."

  A tiny dimple appeared on the girl's cheek as she turned to look at the Lion. "The lords think he must prefer other men. That's why your father allows him in your rooms."

  "And what does Lady Sina think?" Leyli asked, hoping Tristan understood.

  "The horse faced cunt?" He tossed a glance to Leyli, proving he suspected. "I bet she'd fall in my bed without much coaxing at all, then tell her father I raped her."

  "Possible," Leyli agreed.

  Fiona gasped, turning her attention to the last of the pins. "Lady Sina would do no such thing!"

  "The fucking, or the lying?" Tristan asked. "Ley, you think any of your peers knows how to enjoy the act?"

  "Pretty sure it doesn't happen," Leyli assured him. "It's the men who make such a fuss of it."

  "What about you?" Tristan asked the maid. "Married?"

  "No, sir. Lady's maids typically aren't."

  "Mm," he muttered. "You know, my bed does get cold at night. Already know Ley can ignore what I do. She had to often enough in the games."

  Fiona's head snapped up. "What?"

  Leyli waved Tristan off. "Team owners often sell the 'services' of their fighters. Tristan was kind enough to take twice as many nights with lonely widows so I wouldn't be forced to do something I didn't want. He seems rather proud of his skills."

  "Basically," he teased. "And so amused at how stuffy nobles are about the whole thing in public when paying for me in private. Leyli's been kind enough to point out the available women in the palace, though."

  Fiona looked between them, then turned her face back to the Princess's hair, brushing it smooth. "You allow that?" she asked softly.

  Leyli shrugged, looking at her maid from the edge of her eye. "You have a brother?"

  "Yes, Highness. I have three of them, and two sisters."

  "Have you ever introduced one to your friends?"

  "That's not the same," Fiona breathed.

  "Yes," Leyli told her, "it is. Tristan is my shield brother. I lost Kale but gained him. Kale had to make a political marriage, Tristan doesn't, so I get to throw women at him until he finds one he can tolerate."

  Tristan chuckled. "But half the nobles are convinced I'm trying to seduce you."

  Leyli giggled as she gestured for Fiona to put away the brush. "Half the nobles think the other half are, too. You know, I should invite Lenlochlien to court. Rumors say he's very kind."

  "You'd marry down to a Boier?" Tristan's smile showed he was proud he'd learned that much.

  "Because I don't lose my position regardless of my husband's former title, yes. Having an advantage on grain purchases is appealing, plus he's widowed."

  "Does he have a son?"

  Leyli sighed. "Yeah, but he's fourteen."

  "Easier to mold," he teased.

  "Oh!" she gasped, turning to her maid. "Do you think Lady Sina knows anything about Rochdale?"

  "I could ask," Fiona said.

  "Would you?" Leyli stood, making a shooing gesture at Tristan. "Out. Find us some wine and set up the Go board? I'll show you the basics."

  "Yes, Highness," he said, walking into the sitting room of her suite.

  Fiona's eyes followed. "Did you want me to stay, Highness? To protect your honor?"

  "No. My honor vanished the moment I entered the games. It doesn't bother me if court thinks my relationship with the Lion is intimate. I'll get a cooperative husband regardless. And a better mannered one if he thinks he has competition."

  "Oh," the girl said, nodding.

  Leyli knew she was taking it all in, expecting a reward from Lady Sina for the gossip.
It was hard not to laugh, but most of what they'd said was even true. They'd embellished a few things and left off the strange tension that was getting worse between them, but Sina would only hear what helped Leyli's goals. After she changed into her night clothing, the maid was dismissed. Tristan made a point of locking the door before taking the chair across from her.

  "Guess I need to start flirting, huh?"

  She gestured for him to pour the wine. "Wouldn't hurt. You might even meet a girl you like."

  He looked up, meeting her eyes. "I doubt it."

  "Still pining for your miller's daughter?"

  He shook his head. "Nah. I managed to get over her."

  "Just picky?"

  He dropped his head, focusing on the game set between them. For the first time in her life, Leyli saw color darken his cheeks. "Something like that. I'm a bit distracted by my responsibilities."

  "You sound like a nobleman."

  He looked up at her through his bronze lashes. "I doubt that's a compliment."

  She shrugged. "For you, it is. Means you're smart enough to learn how to play this game in only a day."

  "I have an amazing mentor."

  "Partner," she corrected, reaching over for his hand. "You and I, we're partners, and I hope it stays that way forever."

  "Yeah," he said, nodding at the table. "I can do that."

  Chapter 4

  Having a maid created complications. The next morning, she came to wake Leyli. Tristan met her in the sitting room with a dagger at her throat. Fiona yelled, he laughed, then told her she walked like a herd of horses. The sound woke Leyli, who stormed in with a short sword. It was more than the poor girl could take and she nearly fainted in place.

  Once everything was straightened out, Tristan ordered the Princess to dress for weapons practice. The maid's reaction convinced him Leyli was not safe without a team of specialized guards. That Fiona had been able to simply walk in bothered him and, no matter how many times Leyli explained that it was standard practice in the palace, Tristan didn't like it.

  "Is that how your cousin made it into your room?" he asked.