Jealous Kadan
The celebration had gone on far longer than anyone planned.
Music filled the hall, loud and bright, punctuated by laughter and the clink of mugs. Someone had pushed the tables aside to make room for dancing, and the bard had been pulled into it almost immediately, her own songs echoing back at her from other voices.
Kadan stayed where he always didâat the edge of the room, half in shadow, watching.
He didnât drink. Didnât dance. Didnât speak unless spoken to. But he stayed.
Mostly, he watched her.
She was glowing tonight, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, hair slipping loose as she spun with strangers and friends alike. Someone kept handing her refills, and she kept accepting them with a laugh.
He noticed the change before anyone else did.
The way her steps got a little uneven. The way she laughed a little too loudly. The way she leaned into people when she spoke, not quite steady on her feet.
Drunk, he realized.
He had just started forward when she slipped from the dance floor and made her way toward the far end of the hall, where a few others were gathered.
Armen was there, smiling patiently as she spoke to him, hands wrapped around a cup of his own. Thirain stood nearby, mid-conversation with someone else, but he turned when he heard her voice.
Kadan stopped a few paces away.
He wasnât close enough to hear every word, but he could see her expression. Soft. Warm. A little unfocused.
âYouâre very kind,â she was saying to Armen, her words slightly slurred but sincere. âYou always listen. Even when I ramble.â
Armen chuckled gently. âI donât think you ramble.â
She stepped closer to him, swaying just a little.
Kadanâs jaw tightened.
âAnd youâre very handsome,â she added, as if this were an important discovery sheâd just made. âHas anyone told you that recently?â
Armen blinked, clearly caught off guard. âIâthank you, butââ
The bard reached up, fingers brushing his sleeve, and leaned in.
That was enough.
Kadan closed the distance in two strides. His hand caught her wrist before she could finish the motion, firm but not rough, and he gently pulled her back.
She turned, startled. âKadan?â
His expression was calm. Controlled. But there was something sharp beneath it.
âYouâve had too much,â he said.
âIâm fine,â she protested, though she nearly stumbled trying to turn toward him. He steadied her automatically, his hand shifting to her waist.
Behind them, Armen politely excused himself, already retreating with a knowing smile.
âYouâre not fine,â Kadan said quietly.
She looked up at him, eyes unfocused but warm. âYouâre always so serious.â
He didnât answer.
âThirain!â she called suddenly, spotting the king a few steps away. âYouâre handsome too, you know.â
Thirain laughed, clearly amused. âIâll take that as a compliment.â
She tried to step toward him.
Kadanâs arm tightened around her before she could.
âCome on,â he said, already guiding her away from the crowd.
She frowned, confused, glancing back. âI was talkingââ
âYou were about to do something youâd regret tomorrow.â
âI donât regret things,â she said stubbornly, though she leaned heavily into him as they stepped into the quieter hallway beyond the hall.
The music faded behind them, replaced by the soft hush of distant voices.
Kadan stopped once they were alone.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then she looked up at him, really looked this time, and her expression softened. âYouâre warm,â she murmured, her hands coming to rest against his chest as she tried to steady herself.
He went very still.
âYou pulled me away,â she added, tilting her head. âYou didnât want me to kiss them.â
It wasnât a question.
Kadanâs gaze dropped to her face. Her lips. The faint flush across her cheeks.
âNo,â he said.
âWhy?â
The word came out small. Curious. Almost vulnerable.
His hand was still at her waist. He hadnât let go.
âBecause,â he said, his voice lower now, âyou donât look at them the way you look at me.â
Her breath caught, just slightly.
Even drunk, she seemed to understand.
âThenâŚâ she started, swaying closer. âWhat if I wanted to kiss you instead?â
That was the last fragile thread of his restraint.
Kadanâs hand came up to cradle the side of her face, steadying her before she could lose her balance again. For a split second, he hesitatedâlike he was giving her time to pull away.
She didnât.
He kissed her.
It wasnât careful this time. It wasnât hesitant or restrained. It was warm and deep and full of something heâd been holding back for far too long. His other arm tightened around her, pulling her closer as she clutched at the front of his coat.
She melted into it, returning the kiss without thinking, fingers curling into the fabric at his shoulders.
When he finally pulled back, their foreheads nearly touched, her breath uneven.
âYouâre jealous,â she mumbled, sounding oddly pleased.
Kadan exhaled slowly, his composure already knitting itself back together. âYouâre drunk.â
She smiled up at him, eyes half-lidded. âMaybe.â
Her head tipped forward, resting against his chest.
This time, when he held her, it wasnât hesitant at all.












