An errant tress of white hair swished from her forehead coming to rest on her cheek. He made no effort to caress it away from her face. He focused on her in full view of the light, alarmingly aware of her every feature. His senses were assaulted with pure elation; the scent of cocoanut perfume subtly drifting through the air, Yshana’s chest quietly rising and falling, her snow white hair, the slope of her elfin nose, the pretty points of her ears and the sparkling jewelry that hung from them, the feel of her body, her warming presence and her soothing voice.
“Ana, there’s something I must confess.” His eyes were stern and he assumed a serious demeanor.
“Now would seem inappropriate, if you’re about to tell me that you’re already betrothed to another woman. I was just starting to like you . . .” she said.
“You’ve guessed my revelation. It’s as you say!”
Yshana played her part well as she donned a mask of mock disbelief. She pouted. “I don’t share well. I’m a jealous lover, Dwyn. That being said, who are you going to choose?”
“She was the first, but you will always be my only.”
“I better be,” she said flatly. And though she was playing along, Yshana glowered. There was truth in that narrow glare.
Dwyn rose to stand erect with Yshana still clasped in his arms. She was weightless as a feather, and softer than the melody of the music box. He carried her over to the daycouch and gently laid her upon it. “My darling, ‘Passion has but one master,’” he quoted.
There was a sense of satisfaction with the delivery. Brendy would have like that one, he thought. Something stirred within him, shook him to his core. Dwyn suddenly felt lightheaded and dizzy, as if he hadn’t stopped dancing in circles yet. His vision blurred and Yshana smeared into lines of peach and snow and shadow. He had to breathe deeply, inhale the aroma of cocoanut and clear his head.