One of my favorite deleted scenes (that I constantly tried to work into the finished version but always ended up cutting because it just doesn’t serve any purpose beyond the “Awwww” factor) takes place towards the middle-ish of the book, when Meira, Theron, and their group are about to leave Summer. It’s just . . . cute. And happy. In a book where not much is cute and happy.
This scene takes place in Meira’s room in the Summerian palace. Nessa and Dendera are packing to leave when Theron comes in, and they all start talking about Yakim. This is SUPER UNEDITED, so be gentle.
This scene takes place in Meira’s room in the Summerian palace. Nessa and Dendera are packing to leave when Theron comes in, and they all start talking about Yakim. This is SUPER UNEDITED, so be gentle.
Nessa stands and shuts the trunk.
“Have you been there?”
Theron smiles at her. This smile is
real, and it makes my heart cool to know he’s still capable of truly smiling.
“Many years ago. The climate is much less aggressive than Summer, and the
parties are . . .” He pauses, jaw dropping as his eyes wander. “Appropriate.”
Nessa tugs on her skirt, the simple
linen a pale yellow. Her eyes drift out as her hand lingers on the fabric. “A
party,” she whispers like even the word is bathed in gold and pretty, fabulous
things. “I bet they’re gorgeous.”
Her awe is contagious. I want to
bottle her joy and keep this moment preserved.
Theron bounces up and holds his hand
out to Nessa. “You’ll need to know a few Rhythm dances if you wish to go to a
proper ball. Lady Nessa, would you do me the honor?”
I can’t contain my smile when
Nessa’s whole face flares as red as the popping, crackling embers in the fire
pit. Even more beautiful is the grin that sweeps across her face, an
embarrassed yet thrilled happiness that makes me giddy. Her eyes shoot to me
once, read my joy, and flit back to him. She lays her hand in his palm, her
cheeks morphing into a beautiful scarlet-purple as he drags her toward him.
Theron shows her where to position
her hands, how far apart they should stand, then counts out a few beats. On the
second round of one-two-three-four, he dives, sliding one arm behind
Nessa’s back and guiding her with the other. Both of them spin around the room
in steady circles, lulled by Theron’s repetition of one, two, three, four.
Nessa’s giggles are incessant, and even Dendera smiles, bobbing her head back
and forth to made-up music.
Movement at the door catches my eye,
and Henn, Conall, and Garrigan file in. Henn moves to tuck a hand behind
Dendera’s back while a blinding smile explodes across Garrigan’s face and
Conall laughs.
“A Winterian can out-dance a
Cordellan any day!” Garrigan calls.
Theron whips his head over his
shoulder, smiling. “Winter beats Cordell in many respects.”
His eyes find me and he winks. That
smile, the careful way he guides Nessa through the movements, how everyone in
the room is smiling because of him—he chased away the darkness in a matter of
seconds.
I lean forward, hands digging into
the bed’s quilt. This respite startles my system with the sudden switch
from stressed to happy. Theron has done this so many times, fought off misery
with a long, careful look, a simple connection of our eyes that clicks
everything back into place.
Whatever Theron is to me, whatever
pain he hides, he is still an undeniable source of joy.
