True grinned at her but felt it as Farah’s attention came to him.

Therefore, he turned his to her.

She was still dancing, but doing it smiling in his direction.

He felt his grin turn into a smile and tipped his chin up at her.

“Her beauty is great.”

As Farah was whirled away by Bram joining the dancing, he looked back at Áine.

“Firenz women are known for their beauty, but I’ll tell you true, Farah is the greatest I’ve ever seen,” he shared.

She tilted her head to the side and her face turned from shrewd to kind. “I’m not talking about that kind of beauty, my prince.” Her chin dipped, she looked under her lashes at him and murmured, “And here she is, to demonstrate the beauty I’m talking about.”

And just then, he felt his hand taken up and pulled.

He looked that way and saw Farah had hold of him, her happy face now close, warming True to his core.

“Come. Dance,” she urged when he resisted her pull.

“I must finish speaking with Áine, my sweet,” he denied.

She turned her gaze to Áine and pleaded, “Just one song…or three. Then you can have him back.”

He chuckled, and Áine replied, “It would give me great gladness if you danced with your prince the rest of the night.”

Farah instantly pounced on her words.

“There you have it, True,” she said, pulling harder.

He looked to Áine, intent to resist, but he didn’t get his mouth open to say that first word.

“We will sit behind the gnomes, and pixies and sprites,” she declared. “If we get to be in attendance to witness our prince find his happiness, we will sit wherever we’re placed. Now go. Dance.”

“You are my favorite being in the land,” Farah avowed to Áine.

“Even above Baldrick?” Áine asked drolly. “For you must know, he boasts broadly that you are partial to the gnomes of The Doors. I know this for the pixies are spreading that tale throughout the land.”

“All right, then at least tonight you are my favorite,” Farah admitted.

The bells of Áine’s laughter rose above the music, and the fairies were so sensitive to any perceived slight, True was taken aback she showed no offense.

Through her amusement, Áine urged True, “Dance with your bride, my prince.”

Only then did he allow himself to be pulled out of his seat and led to the dancefloor. Males and females of the human and fairy varieties cheered and made room as Farah and he came close.

But he felt immediately strange, for they were not dancing any dance he knew and was adept at doing. There were no waltzes. No structured minuets.

There seemed a lot of hopping, skipping, jogging without getting much of anywhere and twirling, all of this without any rhyme or reason, though there was rhythm.