The Shape-Changer's Wife by Sharon Shinn Page B

of wall and leaned his back against it. Misusing private magic in a public space, he spoke a tiny spell of misdirection and turned all eyes away from him, so that he could watch the rest of the dancers undisturbed.
    Although it seemed like an hour, Lilith’s dance with her husband lasted only a few more minutes, but Glyrenden did not return her to anonymity when the music stopped. Greatly to Aubrey’s surprise, they were approached by a tall, dark-haired young man who made a nervous bow to Glyrenden and asked for the favor of a dance with his wife.
    Glyrenden seemed amused, though of course Aubrey could not hear what he said. Aubrey vaguely recalled meeting the young man earlier in the day—Royel Stephanis, that was his name. He was the third son of a powerful lord, and considered an embarrassment to the family because he was of a poetic, artistic nature. Royel had not much enjoyed the hunt and had dropped far behind the field as the dogs closed in on their prey. He had straight, fine hair and a flushed, excitable face; he was reed-thin and awkward, but clearly well-bred. And his credentials were good enough for Glyrenden. The wizard carried Lilith’s unresisting hand to his lips, then transferred it to Royel’s outstretched palm.
    It was another waltz, even slower than the last. Royel, despite his other social lapses, knew how to dance. He had taken Lilith in a careful and reverent hold, and he drew her with authority through the intricate steps of the waltz. As before, Lilith kept her head down. Her hands on his shoulders seemed barely to touch him. Royel bent his head over hers and spoke in her ear—judging from his face, words of entreaty and cajoling. For the most part, she did not appear to answer, or even to hear, except for one time, when she responded with a quick, negative shake of her head. Royel was not discouraged; he asked again, and this time she made no reply at all.
    Aubrey, watching from his self-imposed shadow, was consumed by gradations of fire. He hated Glyrenden and he hated Royel with a bitter, uncontrollable passion; he felt a profound respect for Royel for perceiving and responding to the fey beauty buried in Lilith; he was aghast at himself, furious and frightened, amazed at the depth of feeling and at the obtuseness that had kept it hidden so long. And he was seared by the sight of Lilith herself, so beautiful, so vulnerable, wrapped in another man’s arms.
    Royel took two dances, though Lilith murmured a protest the second time, and Glyrenden took the next. Aubrey determined to take the following one. He dispersed the fog he had drawn around himself, and was instantly accosted by the older woman who had sat beside him during dinner.
    â€œOh, hullo there,” she said, smiling with genuine pleasure. “I didn’t see you. Where did you come from?”
    â€œI’ve been right here,” he said, attempting to smile back. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
    â€œWell, the dance I enjoyed most was the one with you,” she said hopefully.
    Aubrey forced himself to bow. “Then perhaps we can repeat the pleasant experience now,” he said.
    Of course she accepted, and they danced again. As soon as it was politely possible, Aubrey relinquished her to another partner and turned his attention to finding Lilith.
    There she was; alone again, once more standing against a wall. Had she had an ounce of magic in her, he would have suspected her of drawing a veil of invisibility around herself, for again she was ignored by the people who stood closest to her. Even Royel, across the hall, obviously searching the room with his eyes, seemed unable to find her. But no such spell blinded Aubrey’s vision, and he pushed his way through the crowd to her side.
    â€œLilith,” he said, and her eyes came up to his. He had expected to be as flustered as a schoolboy once he finally came face to face with her, but the opposite was true. Sight of those fathomless