A Sour Note

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 11th October 2024

Characters: Elana, Jomum
Description: Jomum claims a dance from Elana
Location: Emerald Falls Hold
Date: month 13, day 29 of Turn 11

Elana, Sellimere and Sellimere's fiance Redmin spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through the market stalls and enjoying runner and canine races. Elana even placed a few bets with her newly-won marks, much to her regret when she ended up losing a whole mark over the course of the afternoon. They separated just before dinner to join their respective families, and Elana ate with her great aunt in the Dining Hall and was very pleased by the number of people who came up to congratulate her.

She returned to the apartment she shared with Panna to change for the evening's dancing, taking time to pull her red hair into an elaborate braid and tucking fresh flowers into it like a crown.

She met up with Sellimere near where the Harpers were playing and the two young women let themselves be swept into the dancing. The music, wine and accolades made her head buzz and her blood fizzle in her veins when someone tapped her shoulder. She turned and found herself face to face with the man she'd met earlier that month, the guardsman from Amber Hill Holds-- **Jomum,** she remembered after a moment. He held a glass out to her. "I saved a seat for you at my wrestling match but you never came."

"I forgot." Elana accepted the glass, which turned out to be full of white wine. An expression rippled across his face that she couldn't quite place, but unsettled her enough that she smiled and batted her eyelashes at him in appeasement. "Did you win?"

"I would have done better if a beautiful woman had been there to cheer me on," he replied. "I missed you, Elana of Nadol Cothold."

"We barely know each other," she reminded him.

"Then I missed an opportunity to get to know you. Mind if I steal her for a dance?" This he directed to Redmin, Sellimere's fiance, who nodded in bemusement. Before Elana could accept or not he'd captured her free hand and was pulling her toward the dancers.

"Stop! I haven't even had a chance to enjoy this!" Elana held up the full glass and was pleased when his steps slowed. "You brought it all the way over to me, let me at least drink it."

He smiled, then led her over to the side of the tent. It was quieter here, a little darker, and away from the press of bodies. Cool air kissed Elana's collarbones as she sipped the wine. It was fruity and floral, and acidic against her tongue. "Tell me about your wrestling match."

"I made it to the third round before I lost, but it was on a technicality. The judge wasn't watching." Jomum frowned. "It's because I'm not from here. If we were home at Amber Hills Hold, I would have had a shot at placing."

"Ah. Such a shame for you." The urge to tell him about her own win was strong, but surely if he'd been watching her as closely as he'd intimated at their last meeting he'd already know.

"There's still time to turn the night around," Jomum said, shifting his weight and swaying a little closer. "I know you've been looking forward to seeing me all day, even if you were too shy to come to my wrestling match. I get it. It's a lot of bare skin for a woman like you."

The wine on her tongue and her earlier win made her feel bold. She didn't like Jomum, but he was interested in her and had taken the time to learn a bit about her before approaching her in the Dining Hall a month ago. So she batted her eyelashes and played along. "That must be the reason."

He held her gaze for a long moment. "Finish your wine," he told her.

Elana felt the urge to tell him no, but decided to do as she was told simply because she _did_ want to dance. She grimaced as she set the glass on a nearby table. "All right. You may now try to convince me that you are an acceptable dance partner."

"Why should I have to convince you?" Jomum took her hand in his own, his fingers tight around hers as he drew her toward the dance floor. "You know you want to be here with me."

"Only if you can dance."

Jomum smiled. "You don't care about that."

"Stop telling me what I do and don't want," Elana said as he wrapped a hand around her waist. He stood a little closer than she'd like as he drew them into the familiar steps and other couples swirled around them.

"I'm just helping you out. You're confused." Jomum pulled her a little closer. "You're not blushing now, for instance."

"What?" Elana looked up in confusion. Jomum's face was fixed in a pleasant smile, but it looked-- off, somehow. Stiff?

"I heard that you spoke with the acting little Lord Holder today, and you were falling all over him. It's really not becoming, you know."

Elana stopped dancing at once, but Jomum pulled her along and she had no choice but to stumble after him. "I-- what are you talking about?! I _won_ the embroidery competition. Of _course_ Lord Corofel spoke with me, and I certainly wasn't-- wasn't acting like you're implying. How come you didn't congratulate me on my win if you knew?"

His expression softened a bit and he winked at her. "Don't feel too proud of yourself. It's good that you won but it's not like embroidery is useful. It doesn't actually _do_ anything."

"It's _Craft_ work," Elana snapped.

Jomum shook his head. "They do say that redheads have tempers."

Elana planted her feet firmly, and this time Jomum stopped as well. The other dancers swirled around them as Elana wrenched her hand out of his. "You're insufferable. I no longer want to dance with you."

"But you _will_ want to dance with me again." Jomum stepped close enough to whisper in her ear. "I will win you over, Elana of Nadol Cothold." When he leaned back, he was holding one of the flowers she'd tucked into her hair. He winked at her and tucked it carefully into his breast pocket.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Elana sneered at him, then turned on her heel and marched back to where she'd left Sellimere and Redmin-- only they were a little ways off, their arms around each other in a dark corner, sharing a kiss.

Elana scowled at them and turned back to watch the dancers, trying to pretend that was what she'd wanted to do all along. How rude of Sellimere. Even if they were to be married, did they really need to carry on like that in public? And Jomum-- what an arrogant, awful man. How dare he spoil her night like that? She'd _won_ the embroidery competition. This Turn's End was meant to be her victory celebration.

When she next looked over her shoulder Sellimere and Redmin had disappeared, so she took herself over to where the wine was being served to claim another glass. Along the way she hoped that someone else would ask her to dance. Perhaps it was the scowl on her face, but nobody did, and her wine tasted sour on her tongue.

Last updated on the October 17th 2024

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A Sour Note