Chapter Thirteen
I didn’t know when I fell asleep, but the next thing I knew, the hall was quiet, nearly empty. It must have been well after midnight. I rubbed my aching head—perhaps I had one glass too many—stretched, yawned, and looked around. Elaine and Isolde were having an animated conversation in the corner. From their wide grins and excited eyes, I guessed they were discussing their respective dance partners. Lyonesse was flitting about, loudly directing the servants who had stayed behind to clean up, her good mood having faded along with the effects of the wine. In another corner, Pellinor was gently removing the last of the loitering guests, a particularly troublesome man who it appeared would need more than persuasive words to convince him to leave.
“My good sir, the night dra
