"That was the beauty of it, Mistress Bethberry; it was no set dance!" said Saeryn as she demonstrated the feat. With her thick braid twisting through the air behind her like a snake, Saeryn twirled about the room happily. "With feet flying this way and that, barely treading the floor, we flew about the room. I am not sure how precisely we won that competition, as neither--"
"We?" quietly interrupted Eodwine. "I thought this story was about a girl and her brother."
Colliding loudly with a table, Saeryn turned a vivid shade of crimson and sputtered. "I... uh... Well it um..."
"Do I detect some underhanded covering up of the truth?!" cried Falco with an amused smile.
"Now you wait just one moment, Master Falco!" cried Saeryn, only half offended. "The story is about a girl and her brother, but that girl just happens to be me, and the brother happens to be my own."
"No need for raised voices." interceded Bethberry. "It's a lovely story. Please continue..."
"Well anyhow... Fenrir and I beat the tavern-goers at their own game... I assure you, they did not much like that, nor the idea that I should be allowed to stay. I assure you, I never would have tolerated the race or the dance-off had I not been in the mood for the games."
"Of course not."
"And so then the men of the place decided that fairly or not, I was not to stay in that building. The oafs impolitely asked that I remain outside while Fenrir had a drink to celebrate his victory, which, I might add, was mine!"
"He did not agree to it!?"
"He did indeed. For all that I love my brother dearly, he is a fool. And so I slapped him across the face."
"Good for you! Three cheers for the Lady Saeryn! Hip hip--"
"Be silent, half-pint, and let the lady finish."
"Half-pint! Why you--"
"Gentlemen."
Saeryn offered no attempt to cover the smile that now broadly adorned her face. Her amusement was evident in the lilt in her voice.
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