A Dove's Tale

Chapter 96

Once I got past the feel of Nokto's hand on my waist and the awkwardness of having to hold his dark crimson gaze, I really enjoyed dancing. And I was good at it. I followed his instructions and his lead, I didn't step on his toes, and his words tapered off as we fell into a rhythm.

"You've done this before," he noted after a few minutes passed, a smile playing across his lips.

"No, I really haven't," I replied. "Well - promise not to laugh?"

"Mm, we'll see."

That inspired no confidence in me, but I was having too much fun to be concerned about his noncommittal answer.

"I hated doing laundry when I was little, so Mother made a game out of it. She'd sing while we were scrubbing the clothes, and then she'd dance while we were hanging them up to dry, and I'd try to copy what she was doing, or sometimes I'd chase her and try to steal whatever she had in her hands, but that usually ended in both of us falling over and dirtying the laundry again. It was just...it was fun. Even when I got older."

I smiled at the memories, but a lump rose in my throat and a sharp pang stabbed at my heart, and I had to drop his gaze. Thinking of Mother always hurt. I bit my lip, blinking hard to fight the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. This was why I filled my mind and my schedule with anything and everything. I didn't want to feel this ache.

"Sing something," Nokto prompted gently.

I shook my head and swallowed hard to move the lump enough for me to talk. "All the songs were in another language."

"So hum."

I swallowed again and nodded. There was a song on the tip of my tongue before this conversation started, one that Mother sang every time we did laundry, and it was just the right tempo to match our steps. I hummed the first tentative notes. They squeaked past the lump in my throat, touched the air, and fell into silence. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to try again. This time, the notes flowed freely, weaving around us as Nokto led me in the dance. It was a cheerful tune, light and carefree, belying the heaviness of my heart, and when it stopped, so did I. He wrapped his arms around me, pressing my tear-streaked face into his chest.

"Sorry," I choked.

"It was time for us to stop, anyway," he said lightly.

"I'm sorry," I repeated. "I hate crying."

He sighed and rubbed my back. "You need to get it out, Ivetta."

I shook my head. "What if I do this at the coronation ceremony?"

"You won't. You always do what you need to do at the moment. But if you need a shoulder to cry on later, you know where to find me."

I shook my head again and wrapped my arms around his waist. "I don't know why you and Chevalier put up with me."

He tensed, just for a second, his hand freezing on my back, but it resumed its soothing rubbing motion before I had time to wonder what was wrong.

"Is that what he was doing in your room last night?" he asked softly.

I nodded. "Except I wasn't crying about Mother. It was a nightmare." I sighed and added, "I hate nightmares, too."

"Do you get them a lot?"

"Yes, for as long as I can remember. They're always about things that have happened to me, or things I saw happen to Mother." I swallowed and pulled free from his embrace, keeping my eyes on the floor. "Sorry. Licht said you have nightmares, too."

"He told you that?" Nokto asked, his hand appearing in front of me with a handkerchief. I took it and nodded.

"Not what they're about, just that you both have them," I said, wiping my face. "He found me sitting outside my house when he was on patrol one night during the gala. I used to sit out there when the nightmares woke me up." I crumpled the soiled handkerchief in my hand. "It was so stupid of me. I made it so easy for-"