In Which Yvanette Doubts the Idea

July 15, 1189

"Feeling better?"

Yvanette shrugged as Sevvie sat down. He shouldn't have been here. He shouldn't have been standing guard outside his cousin Searle's bedroom. It was his father's wedding. He ought to have been enjoying the party. "You can go if you like. I don't want to keep you here."

"And leave you here alone?"

"Why not? I shouldn't have come in the first place." Why had she let Aspen talk her into it?

Sevvie sighed. "You shouldn't have to feel like you need to sit everything out. I'm always happy to help, and I know your brother and sister are too."

"I don't want to be a burden."

"You wouldn't be. And you're not." Like he knew. "Didn't Deian say you'd learn to control it eventually?"

She snorted. It was probably the closest she'd come to laughing in a while, even if it was pure sarcasm. "That was long enough ago that we can probably call him a liar."

"But even if he is, you still deserve to be happy. To be able to do what you want and go where you please. When was the last wedding you attended, even?"

"My Uncle Abrich's, maybe?" Her Uncle Searle would be getting married in November, and she'd be expected to attend. She was dreading it already.

"Your Uncle Abrich? Hasn't he been married for seven or eight years?"

Yvanette swallowed. "Closer to nine."

"You've never even danced, have you?"

She shook her head. "Just with Darry and my parents."

"Huh." Sevvie stood. He stepped a little closer, one hand outstretched. "If you want, we can dance now."

Could they? She did want to, even if she was still a little light-headed. It couldn't have been a good idea, but she took his hand anyway. "I'm not very good."

"That's all right." He set his other hand at the center of her back. "Neither am I."

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