“To dance with Altimere was to be delighted by the interplay of muscle and flesh, taking fierce pleasure in every movement."You dance with passion and with grace," he said into her ear, his voice warm and intimate. "Everyone who sees you must delight in your beauty, and yet you would have denied them. Have they angered you?"Becca laughed, and tipped her face up to his. "No one wishes to see a cripple dance, sir. Doubtless, when we are done, we will find that they are angry with me.""Can this be ...so?" he murmured. "How strange is this land!"She laughed again. "Do you not, in your own country, put aside the imperfect in preference to those things which are . . . not ruined?"He paused as they described an abandoned and quite delightful loop across the crowded floor."To be present when one invokes her kest," Altimere said slowly, "that is a gift. I do not understand, perhaps, this word 'cripple.' "Becca looked up into his face. "But what is kest?" Altimere smiled slightly. "I lapse twice in the space of a sentence.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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