Those dancing were not behaving with any decorum whatsoever. Each couple danced in their own fashion, separate from the rest, not in a line as Vrell was used to. This was not a proper place for a lady to spend time, nor a prince.
She tore her eyes away from the tawdry display. "Do you see them?"
Sir Eagan pointed to a table before a frosty window. Achan and Kurtz sat alone, a large pitcher between them. Achan wore a burgundy head scarf over his hair like some sort of marauder. Kurtz wore one in navy blue.
Sir Kurtz met Vrell's reprimanding stare and whispered in Achan's ear. Achan looked up, a big grin on his face, and waved Vrell over.
Foolish boy.
Sir Eagan and Vrell wove around the tables, past the lively dancers, and stopped before the table.
"Kurtz, I see you have decided to disobey Caleb," Sir Eagan said, "Not the best way to resume your service to the crown."
Kurtz waved a hand to the two empty chairs at their table. "Join us, eh?"
Vrell rolled her eyes. "Achan, we must-"
"No," Kurtz whispered. "I'm Hal Rackham, I am. Sailor aboard the Mirfak, just into port from Hamonah. And this here's one of our oarsmen, Pacey."
I'm an oarsman, Achan told Vrell. That means I row.
Oarsman. Really, Vrell scolded.
But Achan grinned so wide Vrell couldn't help but smile.
Sir Eagan drew in a groaning breath and claimed the seat beside Kurtz. "You will finish your drink and we will go."
"But we've already ordered more, we have," Kurtz said. "Pie and a dance."
Vrell sat next to Achan. "You ordered a dance?"
"Two ladies," Achan said in an amused tone.
Vrell cast a scathing glare at Kurtz.
Kurtz leaned across the table toward Vrell. "Barmaids, Minnow. Friendliest women in all Er'Rets, you wait and see. Told them we're celebrating Pacey's coming-of-age day."
Achan winked at Vrell.
"What are you hoping to accomplish on this outing?" Vrell asked. "A chance to get drunk, or something more?"
"Blazes, boy! I've been in prison for thirteen years, I have. The prime of my life lost! I deserve some fun. Besides, our future king should see the master at work, eh? I'll teach him a thing or two about attracting a female."
Vrell gritted her teeth. As if Achan needed help with that. "Sir Eagan, you deem this noble behavior?"
Sir Eagan's expression remained somber. "I do not."
"Bah!" Kurtz leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. "Well, Pacey, it seems Mother and Father found us, eh? What mischief can we get into while they're watching?"
Vrell did not understand Kurtz's motivation. "You claim to follow Arman, Kurtz? Can he possibly be pleased with your deceiving Sir Caleb and endangering Ach-Pacey?"
"I'm not in danger," Achan said.
Kurtz leaned across the table, his sour breath wafting over Vrell's face. "Me and Arman, we got us an understandin', boy. I'm a work in progress, I am."
"Thirteen years in prison and your work in progress has progressed little," Sir Eagan said.
A barmaid stopped at the table and set two plates of a dark berry pie in front of Achan and Kurtz. She had long brown hair tied back in a long plait and a kind face. "There you are, boys."
"Thank you, Darri."
Vrell pursed her lips. Kurtz would already be on a first-name basis with the barmaid. Thankfully, the woman was old enough to be Achan's mother. Round in all the right places for Kurtz' attention, she wore a sleeveless corset top and a long red skirt.
Darri cast her brown eyes from Vrell to Sir Eagan. "And what can I get fer you two?"
Sir Eagan smiled. "Nothing, th-"
"Another round, eh?" Kurtz pushed the jug to the edge of the table.
"Will do. And I found some willing partners for you and your young lad, here." Darri raised her eyebrows at Achan, a coy smile curling her lips. "They'll be right out."
"Heh hay!" Kurtz sipped his mead. "Now the fun begins, eh?"
"Achan, please come back to the room where you will be safe," Vrell said.
Kurtz sighed. "I say we ditch the minnow, Pacey. He's already poor company, eh?"
Achan shoved a large bite of pie into his mouth and licked his fingers. He pushed the plate toward her with his other hand. "Want some?"
"I do not."
Darri approached the table again. In one hand she held a pitcher frothing over with amber liquid, in the other, two empty mugs. She plunked a mug before Sir Eagan and Vrell, filled them with mead, re-filled Kurtz's mug, and set the pitcher down in the center of the table.
A small consolation, Achan was so preoccupied with the pie, he hadn't seemed to have touched his mug.
Two women flanked Darri and she introduced them. "This here is my sister, Meldeen, and her daughter Beska."
Vrell's insides coiled. Meldeen was Darri's age, but Beska, a tall, slender woman with long, dirty blond hair, appeared to be in her early twenties. They were both dressed in corset-laced white tops and red sweeping skirts like Darri's.
"What's it yer wantin'?" Meldeen asked, a suspicious gleam in her eyes.
"Only a dance or two, lassie." Kurtz grabbed the scruff of Achan's neck. "Pacey here turned sixteen. Needs to learn to move his feet, eh?"
"And a handsome one he is," Meldeen said. "Best wishes to yeh on yer comin'-of-age, Master Pacey. May Thalassa bless yeh and bring yeh endless joy."
Achan grinned. "Thank you, ma'am."
Sir Kurtz stood and stepped past Sir Eagan's chair.
"Wait," Achan said, shoving the last bite of pie in his mouth and he stood and inched past Vrell's chair.
"Thirteen years," Kurtz whispered. "Pick up the pace, eh? I need to dance, I do."
Vrell disapproved of this. "Are you not married, ma'am?"
Meldeen scowled down on Vrell. "What's that yer business?"
Vrell glanced at Beska in accusation.
"Don't yeh worry, lad," Meldeen said. "We won't taint yer pa 'n' brother. An' if yer sweet, Beska might dance with yeh, too."
Vrell's cheeks blazed. As if she wanted to dance with…
Kurtz barreled between Meldeen and Beska, grabbed both their hands, and tugged them to the dance floor.
Achan chuckled and kicked Vrell's boot. "You're sure you don't want to come?"
"What good could come of this, Ach-" She pursed her lips, not wanting to speak Achan's name aloud. She whispered, "Do you serve Arman or your flesh?"
Achan blinked, his smile fading. "It's just a dance, Sparrow. Have you never wanted to be just one of the men?" He placed his hands on the table and leaned down to speak in her ear. "I'm not a fool. My life is changing before I've had much chance to live it. I only want to relax for a few hours. Be nobody. Won't you come dance with us?"
Vrell shook her head. "Thank you, but I shall watch from here with Sir Eagan. Someone must act as your conscience if things go sour."
Achan's cheeks darkened. "I don't need a nursemaid."
"You do not need a barmaid, either," Vrell said.
"Fine." Achan shrugged. "Miss all the fun if you like." He strode to where Sir Kurtz and the women were dancing.
Sir Eagan wrinkled his nose. "That went well."
Vrell glared at Sir Eagan. "You had little to say."
"We shall give them their dance, then end it."
Vrell folded her arms and glowered at the dancing mob. Kurtz and Meldeen held hands and skipped from side to side, a harmless enough dance, though they plowed through others without bothering to apologize or tame their steps.
Beska and Achan, however…that woman led with brazen confidence. She held his hands above her head and twirled before him, drew closer and stomped her feet to the beat. Achan's cheeks reddened three times during the first song alone. That and his novice dance skills made him even more charming. Vrell sighed. If given the chance, he would dazzle every eligible noblewoman in Er'Rets.