Vhalla wondered if she imagined the swordsman leaning toward her a fraction.

She took a deep breath and grabbed for his flagon, the water forgotten a moment. Daniel relinquished it. “He wants me for his father, for their war, that’s all.”

“Then he’s more of a fool and an ass than people give him credit for.” Daniel’s fingers brushed hers as she passed the flagon back to him.

“Do you have someone?” Vhalla already was certain she knew the answer was not going to be affirmative. If she was honest, she’d already begun to see the way her fellow Easterner looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

“I did.” He took a long drink. “I returned from my last tour and found she’d decided that ‘when the war is over’ was too long to wait.”

“I’m sorry,” Vhalla sighed, accepting his flagon back.

“I’m getting over it.” He shrugged. He wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

“You know what will help?” She swung her legs back around and stood with a stumble and a laugh. “More alcohol, more dancing.” She held out her hands for him and he chuckled, resigning himself to her.

They both had something to run from, Vhalla realized, or rather someone. He ran from the shroud of this other woman, and she ran from the painful possibilities that surrounded her and Aldrik. Vhalla took the stairs with resolve, his hand wrapped in hers as she led him back below. Tonight they would run together.

The first stop was the bar. Just because she realized she was running didn’t make her judgment any more sound. Her hand was in the air and she ordered two shot glasses of a liquid that burnt all the way down.

Daniel coughed. “How are you drinking this?” He slammed the glass back down on the bar.

“You’re drinking it too,” she coughed. Vhalla felt the alcohol hit her system and she swayed, laughing again. “Come on.”

Daniel paid the bartender and they were on the dance floor anew. He took her hands and spun her three times. Vhalla’s insides bubbled, and she was laughing again. Her hips swayed and her hands clapped to the music as they stepped and twisted their hips. She kicked to his left and he to her right, before changing directions.

They came back together and one hand was wrapped in his, the other on his shoulder and his on hers. Vhalla found herself beaming from ear to ear. They were both awful dancers. But she was completely intoxicated on the alcohol, on the crowd, on the heat, on Daniel’s sweet smiles, on his gentle admiration, and on his hands.