Etta Osi Walker
Occupied Seoul
July, 1941
Smoke swirled through the Paradise Club's sultry spotlights as the band's tempo reached a fever pitch, marking the night's later hours. I strode confidently back through the rear entrance doors, nodding casually to the bartender's knowing glance. The din of drunken laughter and glasses clinking greeted me like an old friend.
Making my way through the maze of crowded tables, I spotted Lilac and Jade, two of the club's longtime singers, gossiping closely on an upholstered lounge. I suppressed an eye roll at their florid English stage names. Lilac's heavily lined cat-eyes tracked my movement while Jade kept her gaze down, her jet black bob shielding her face.
Lilac's pink lips pressed into a thin line, one pencil-thin brow arching ever so slightly. Her garish floral Kimono rustled as she shifted position. Beside her, Jade straightened almost imperceptibly, the line of her shoulders tensing. Her long-fingered hands, knuckles adorned with jade rings, twisted nervously in her lap.
I felt their subtle hostility like knives between my shoulder blades. Foreigners might find their painted smiles dazzling under the club's glittering lights. But I knew too well the bitter envy in their darting eyes, sizing up the newest singer to threaten their coveted spots. I inclined my chin and met Lilac's gaze directly as I passed by their lounge, my heels clicking crisply through the smoke-filled room.
Hands on cocked hips, I playfully addressed the pair. "What's this then? Some moonshine secrets too spicy for my delicate ears, ladies?" I punctuated the tease with a dramatic wink.
Lilac and Jade exchanged a loaded glance. Lilac's dark eyes narrowed while Jade bit her painted lower lip. Lilac turned to me again, exhaling a long stream of pungent cigarette smoke. Her bejeweled hand gestured airily. "We were just discussing that man you seemed rather...familiar with outside."
I detected a pinched note lurking behind Lilac's syrupy tone. Fumiko was her real name, the disgraced daughter of a Japanese dignitary now dancing under strobe lights rather than morning sun. Despite her temperamental nature, I acknowledged her vocal talents.
My gaze turned toward Jade. Her downturned eyes and wringing hands signified my rising solo performances were making some senior dancers feel neglected.
I let out an amused laugh, trying to keep my tone playful. "Jealous, Fumiko dear? I can't help attracting refined gentlemen with my continental looks." I stated dramatically, sinking onto the lounge beside her.
She let out a scoff as I patted her hand teasingly. Her lined eyes flashed at my use of her birth name. I held up my hands in mock surrender. "Jokes, sorry!" I smiled to soften the jab.
Schooling my features, I waved one perfectly manicured hand in casual dismissal. "You know these officers love spinning dreams of Broadway to us starry-eyed performers. Mr. Park is simply expanding his club ventures." I softened the verbal needle with a wink. "Surely it's wise to simply hear the man out?"
Fumiko sniffed, mollified. Her pretty features darkening subtly at the name drop. She paused her a moment, trying to reestablish her position and shook her head.
"Perhaps. But take care, Etta - you may trust too freely." She lowered her voice. "He's suppose to be engaged to an heiress." Her expression hovered between warning and envy.
I nodded seriously, before tapping her shoulder playfully. "I don't trust easily, you know that. But in trying times, we must at least listen." I stood, straightening my dress.
Jade's shoulders relaxed a fraction while Lilac took a long drag of her cigarette, scarlet lips pursed around the smoldering end. Her glance towards Jade held a silent exchange before she replied, smoke coiling upwards.
"I suppose you're right..."
" Regardless, what does it matter if he's to be engaged? He's not yet engaged, and even if he was...I'm performing for the man not sleeping with him." I reminded them as I adjusted myself from my seat.
"Now, enough dreary chatter! I heard the bartender imported real French champagne tonight..." Laughing airily, I swept toward the bar, hoping I had successfully dispelled the tension. For now.
The Paradise Lounge's kindly proprietor, Mr. Anderson, Freddie Anderson. Sometimes he never know if he wanted to spell it with a y or -ie.
He was one of the best things about this place. He halted his wiping of tumblers as I reappeared through the side staff door in a swish of rain-speckled skirts. As I approached, he absently smoothed his moustache while glancing out the front window at an elegant black vehicle purring off into the night.
He clucked his tongue knowingly, bushy brow raising. "Miss Soon-ja's been watching you sharp as an eagle, lately. " he remarked, referring to Jade. I followed his meaningful look to the lounge corner where Jade now perched, after leaving Lilac behind. She sat shuffling cards with practiced hands while keeping one eye pinned on me.
I tilted my head, puzzled by her intense focus. Freddie chuckled, resuming drying glasses. "What, you think those birds gossip about fashion and film stars, when they look at me? I asked sarcastically.
He snorted. "More like any backroom business that lets them turn trouble to their advantage."
I smiled ruefully, leaning against the smooth mahogany counter. "It seems I'm making some of the ladies jealous."
He chuckled, resuming his glass polishing with circular strokes of the rag. "Can't blame them for ruffling their feathers. Talent like yours demands attention."
I glanced at him wiping the counter, ever so meticulous. "Freddie or Freddy today?" I asked lightly, nodding at his handwritten name tag with both spellings scratched out. His spelling quandary always made me smile.
"Aw, just Freddie I suppose," he said with a twinkle in his eye, glancing down at his stained apron. Through the hazy room, the tempo increased as Lilac took the stage in a hypnotic swirl of color.
I grew silent for a moment, gazing back towards Jade and Lilac's corner. "Was she really watching me like a hawk though?" I asked, doubtful. "I didn't do anything when they were out there talking to Mr. Park the other day. So why am I suddenly the villain?" I crossed my arms, lips pressing together.
Mr. Anderson, shook his head, before he simply chuckled, one shoulder lifting in a slight shrug. "Maybe because your conversation seemed a bit more...intense." He paused, bushy grey brows raising suggestively. "Seems that high-steppin' Mr. Park couldn't resist your charms after all. My my..."
I hummed noncommittally in response and leaned back against the piano, ankles casually crossing as I stretched lithe arms overhead with feline grace. Watching Freddie finish closing up shop, I mused softly, "We simply discussed terms for some private bookings. Strictly business, that's all..."
I let the statement linger, hoping he wouldn't pry further. The less Freddie knew, the better. Plausible deniability and all that. I glanced sidelong at the older man, but his wrinkled features betrayed nothing as he wiped the last glass and set it atop the counter.
The older man barked a laughing cough as he pocketed his cleaning rag, ambling over to fix me with a pointed look. "That man runs with wolves, songbird. Mind the games you get mixed up in now..."
Uttering a melodic hum in my throat, I turned instead to peruse the sheet music scattered atop the lounge's baby grand piano. Hoisting myself up elegantly to sit beside it, I flashed Freddie an assured smile.
"Oh, it was only a matter of time before that sharp fellow came asking after these golden pipes..." I gestured theatrically to my neck, hinting at my singing skills. "I merely helped the timing along." I added a nonchalant shrug, hoping to ease his worries.
Freddie shook his head, bushy grey brows drawn together. But his eyes glinted with mirth rather than true concern. "That silver tongue will land you in trouble one day, mark my words."
I gasped in faux affront, one hand flying to my chest. "Mr. Anderson! Such accusations..."
He took a moment as he counted the evening's take, glancing up to fix me with a serious look. "Still say you're playing games with wolves, Etta." He eyed me kindly as I absorbed this. "If you won't trust me about him, then just take old Freddie's advice and steer clear of those vipers' nests, eh?" He said gesturing his eyes over towards Jade then lilac on stage.
My bright laugh turned heads from the few drunken stragglers being gently ushered out. "Oh, you fret too much, Freddie! I don't talk to those birds as it is anyway." I casually tapped my nails against one another. "It's the USO boys I'm worried about - those lugs will be so distraught losing my stellar performance to the next tour!"
I swung nimbly off my perch, before affectionately squeezing Freddie's shoulder. "Think I'll request an extension actually. We creative types never roost long." My smile softened, hoping to reassure him. " We melancholy artists seldom stay rooted long anyway." I scoffed, before returning my gaze.
" But chin up! Once those Broadway bigwigs discover moi, I'll be back to sign autographs faster than you can shake a muddler!"
Freddie just shook his head, a grudging smile twisting his moustache. "Never one to shy from the spotlight, are you" His eyes glinted paternal concern beneath the good humor.
I kissed Freddie's stubbled cheek impishly and headed for the door, turning to send a playful salute. "Don't fret none over me, Freddie. Keep the lights glowing for my encore act once fame comes knocking!" I tossed him a playful salute. " Goodnight..." I added, with a flutter of my fingers, I vanished into the cool night mist and lurking shadows.
Freddie could only chuckle and shoo me home as dawn threatened through the club's smoky shadows. As the door swung closed behind me, I glimpsed him shaking his grey head, worry creasing his brow beneath the good humor. We both knew my breezy defiance hid restless dreams and ambitions.
Pulling my coat tighter against the chill, I hurried down the empty predawn streets. Freddie's warnings echoed in my mind, but I tamped them down. The Paradise Club was a gilded cage - I had come here for a second chance at life, even that was not by choice. So, I aimed to seize what I could. If that meant outrunning a wolf or two, so be it.
I soon arrived at the small home I shared with my roommate Yura. Sliding the door open, I called out brightly, "Honey, I'm home!" But as I entered, I caught sight of Yura twisted up with some unknown man.
I quickly turned away, shielding my gaze. Yura exclaimed in surprise, "Etta! I didn't expect you back yet!" Rustling sounds followed as she covered herself.
Hands over my eyes, I awkwardly chuckled. "Do carry on you two!" I said, to cover my flustered state. Needing some air, I went back outside to the porch steps, enjoying the summer breeze, keeping eyes downcast from patrolling Japanese soldiers.
Yura's romantic exploits weren't my affair. She had her own struggles - who was I to judge? I settled on the weathered wood steps, staring at nothing, determined not to dwell on the encounter.
Soon the man stumbled out fixing his clothes, not meeting my amused glance.
After some time, The door slid open again with Yura looking rather unperturbed, and her black kimono casually rearranged. She joined me on the porch steps, lighting a long cigarette.
Still she wavered a touch between contrition and defiance.
"No need to hide out here pouting, Etta. You know I entertain now and then." She exhaled casually.
I patted the step beside me. "It's already forgotten," I assured gently. After a moment she sat, crossing her bare legs. "I might even marry that one," she remarked, cigarette gesturing at his retreat. "He has prospects." She gave me a teasing look while I bit back an amused smirk at the thought.
"Yes, wedding bells on the horizon. How lovely for you both." I injected just enough sarcasm in my tone to make her break fully into her laughter.
I returned my attention towards the sky, gazing up at the dusky evening. My thoughts returned to the earlier conversation with Mr. Park, replaying his interest, in my voice. A private performance tour of his elite clubs could provide the perfect springboard to bigger venues and brighter spotlight. The classical aspects of it all.
Yura nudged my arm, eyebrow raised. "Copper for your thoughts? Don't tell me you're still sulking..."
I shook my head with a wry smile. "Just contemplating the future, that's all." Yura looked at me curiously but didn't pry. We sat in companionable silence as the moon rose over the sky.
Yura took a long drag of her cigarette, gazing up at the hazy night sky. "You have a bright future, Etta. Whatever this new offer is, just grab it. Bam!" She smacked one fist into her palm decisively.
I looked over at Yura's sharply lined eyes and lips, in it's reflection of sadness much like my own smile.
"It's enough that some of us got stuck in...all this." Yura waved her hand vaguely at the patrolling Japanese uniforms occupying the Korean streets. She exhaled bitter laughter around her cigarette.
"I was top of my class, you know. Could have made something of myself." She shook her head, mouth twisting. "If not for the damned occupation...We were barely allowed schooling as women by then."
I bumped her shoulder gently in solidarity. "Ah, but don't sell yourself short. You're still so bright, Yura."
She smiled thinly before flicking her spent cigarette away angrily. "Bright? For what? I satisfy urges of men I once pitied their wives for bedding. My father died in the war. And my mother can't bear to face me now that we're...stuck." Her voice caught slightly.
She fell silent as I pulled her into a fierce embrace. As she relaxed against me, I reminded gently, "You're the sharpest woman I know, Yura. I'd have floundered here without you."
She sighed, dabbing her eyes before giving me a squeeze.
" Promise you'll soar so high out of this hellhole, that they can't cage you again."
"On one condition - you soar with me. No matter how long it takes, we'll flee this prison together."
After a fraught pause, Yura managed a watery chuckle. "Better start packing then..." She took a deep breath, dabbing her eyes and regaining composure.
"Ah, by the way, I've been meaning to ask..." I began lightly, hoping to lift her spirits. Yura turned my way, head canted in query.
"Aren't you a bit older than me? Why do you insist on calling me unnie?" I gave her a playful nudge, eliciting a hint of a smile.
Yura rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yah, don't get cheeky with your elders." She pinched my arm, unable to restrain a genuine grin now.
"Let me have this one thing at least...it's nice imagining a simpler life, like we were just schoolmates without a care."
" In other words you're calling me old." I teased. " That's called manipulation."
Yura smirked, gazing back up at the hazy night sky. She rested her sleek head on my shoulder with a sigh. "When you get older than me, you can tell me what to call you."
I shook my head amused as she took a long drag, smoke spiraling upwards. Her voice turned serious.
"But truly - you've got your life on track, moving toward bigger things. Let me pretend at least..." Her eyes were wistful yet sincere. "And you take good care of me too, Etta. I've always wished for an older sister to call my own, strange as that sounds." She chuckled softly.
I smiled into the darkness, squeezing her shoulders. We sat in easy quiet, my head coming to rest gently atop hers. The night breeze carried sounds of disorder - soldiers shouting, a train whistling far off.
"You'll always have me, Yura," I finally murmured. "I may tease, but I'm honored you think me worthy of the title. Now hush." I added playfully as I pinched her cheek. Giggling, she swatted my hand away.
But she snuggled closer under my arm as we kept nostalgic watch over our corner of the slumbering city.
Park Ji-Tae
Occupied Seoul,
July, 1941
"Hyung-nim..." My newest guard's nervous tones preceded him through the private office door left cracked as etiquette demanded. "A woman insists she is expected by you."
I glanced up distracted momentarily from the alarming letter crafted in my mother's graceful script left conspicuously across my desk, no doubt by her hand personally. Before I could wave off Yuto's stammering announcement of some presumptuous visitor who lacked proper appointment decorum, a second set of shoe heels echoed sharp down the corridor.
"Here I thought you had better memory than that Mr. Park..." An amused voice followed by one daring knuckle wrap upon oak frame now ajar.
I lifted my gaze to the cavalier smile playing at the corner of signature crimson lips on that stunning vocalist I had encountered the day prior. My lips parted in pleased surprise even as propriety reflexes nearly propelled me to stand.
She allowed herself into the leather chair facing mine without waiting for invitation. Crossing her legs leisurely as she made herself quite at home while Yuto gawked by degrees confused at such boldness breaching my notorious habits for privacy and protocol alike.
I cared little in the moment. Waving off his tentative protests, I redirected crisply, "No matter, please pour us libations..." My smile threatened wider rupture of composure to address her directly again.I allowed myself moments simply taking her presence in - bold red skirt suit hugging each sinuous angle as divine right, tight coils pinned just so to graze nape of her slender neck.
" Why hello, Songbird." I began, leaning back in my chair as a subtle smile crept across my lips.
She rolled her eyes slowly, a fleeting expression of annoyance crossing her face before her ruby lips curved into an effortless smile. "So you do remember me." She tilted her chin up ever so slightly as she spoke.
"Well, Had I a name that day, such unannounced delight would be hardly necessary..." I reminded her, twirling my pen dexterously between my fingers as I met her gaze. "Nevertheless, such royal visitation hardly requires invitation."
I paused, letting my gaze drift over her figure, reading each subtle movement as I carefully chose my next words. "Did you miss me?" I asked lightly, one eyebrow arched.
Her full lips pursed at my teasing, mild displeasure crossing her delicate features. "You still think yourself so charming then..." She cast an elegant glance around my richly furnished office, as if assessing its worth, before meeting my eyes levelly over steepled hands.
I smiled, unable to help admiring her composure. She met my gaze so directly, with depthless eyes, awaiting my response.
"No more charming than you are captivating, my dear," I replied honestly. She blinked once at the candid compliment but otherwise did not react. I took that as encouragement to go on.
"I'm sure with talent like yours, choosing paths is not easy." I acknowledged. "But I can open doors with the right connections. That is, if you'll still have me..." I let the offer reintroduce itself between us.
She smiled cryptically. "I am here, perhaps out of interest...Mr. Park." My name rolled silkily off her tongue.
"Unfortunately for you, I'm not swayed by sweet words any more than you are." One sculpted brow arched playfully. "But do go on...I do admire gilded admiration."
I chuckled at her quick wit and candor - so unlike the fawning sycophants that usually frequented my circles. Men and women alike. I sensed that much already. The truth was, I appreciated the challenge.
I reclined casually, meeting her eyes. "Then speak honestly - what would best serve your interests here? You intrigue me, I'll admit. What might convince you to...align yourself with me?" I let subtle hunger touch my voice while verbally placing cards on the table. However, she was not piqued yet, but she was listening very closely.
Her smile soon turned coy, almost pitying. "If I gave you tips, you could become threatening, Mr. Park."
I took her in slowly. She was cunning to match my own. That much was established. Exquisite and so brazenly beautiful. That too, was documented in stars.
"Well we wouldn't want threats between friends now..." I agreed, as I rested my head onto my knuckles as I looked at her. She was the kind of woman countless men beyond these walls would slaughter their inheritance simply to worship ground her heel strode on. She gazed at me as if she was turning me into one of them without my permission.
Even as she reclined, she maintained an air of elegance, crossing one stockinged leg precisely over the other. I watched her closely as she scoffed bluntly towards my extensive bookshelves and oil paintings, the corner of her lips turning down ever so slightly.
"I took the wealthy elite for having better taste..." she remarked, starting a new conversation.
One of my eyebrows arched playfully as I watched her eyes trace over the ornate surroundings. " The décor?" I inquired, my gaze fixed on her face.
She glanced around once more, thoughtfully biting her bottom lip before shrugging her shoulders. "Doesn't seem like you, that's all..." she mused, her voice trailing off. "Or maybe it's projection because I might've made it look a little different."
Her critical words brought an amused smirk to my lips. "And you know me so well, I take it?" I probed, leaning an elbow on the armrest as I regarded her intently.
For a moment she deliberately ignored me, her focus drifting to examine her immaculate nails. Then she posed a question of her own, one perfectly sculpted brow raised in challenge. "Unless the mighty Park heir still takes décor tips from his mother...?"
I smoothed away the documents cluttering my desk, a poorly hidden grin creeping onto my face as I continued my organizing. Shifting a smooth jade paperweight to the side, I confessed, "Is it that obvious?"
I glanced down at the paperwork, adding a few looping signatures as I continued. "You seem to have her unnerving talents for perception."
"I'll take that as a compliment, since it seems you heed her words," she replied, the corner of her mouth quirking up into an amused smile as she lightly tapped one nail on the leather armrest.
I found myself watching the graceful movements of her hands - delicate yet deliberate. She needed me in this game we were playing, but in the same breath, she reminded me that I needed her too. She had dared diminish my family's wealth so bluntly, yet indirectly at the same time. It wasn't just the bold words themselves, but the way she wielded them with effortless charm that intrigued me.
I met her gaze directly, searching for any cracks in her flawless composure as I brought the crystal glass to my lips. The as the amber liquid warmed a slow trail down my throat.
Tapping the end of my fountain pen lightly on the lacquered tabletop, I leaned back in my leather chair, observing her reactions closely. "How about this, songbird..." I proposed, one corner of my mouth quirking up. "When you promise to sing here exclusively, then I can let you decorate this office to your exquisite tastes. Until then, what use is it complaining about the décor when one isn't wealthy enough to change it?"
I watched in quiet amusement as a series of expressions flitted almost imperceptibly across her features at my bold challenge - surprise, then annoyance, followed by grudging respect. She tilted her head ever so slightly as she regarded me anew.
"Fair point, Mr. Park," she conceded after a moment, the hints of a smile playing about her lips. She uncrossed and re-crossed her stockinged legs smoothly, straightening her posture as if to meet my provocation head-on with poise and grace.
With a nod, I guested towards the door for a tour around, I rested a hand lightly on the small of her back, guiding her through the dimly lit club towards the empty stage.
Her presence had already begun drawing curious glances from various patrons that I imagined were unaccustomed to seeing a woman of her complexion and beauty outside of the occasional visiting American soldiers.
We stepped up onto the polished wood of the stage floor as she took in the sight of the vacant room, scarlet curtains sweeping up to the vaulted ceiling.
"Wealthy women aren't easily impressed, miss," I stated, moving to stand behind her as I observed her reaction.
She continued gazing out at the vacant seats for a long moment before turning her head to meet my eyes, one brow arched in curiosity. "Is this my first lesson on being wealthy?" she inquired, the hint of a wry smile playing on her lips.
I mirrored her expression, angling my body closer to hers. "Because from what I've seen, you have the poise and perception of a queen already," I replied bluntly. "You needn't pretend to be impressed. Unamusement is a luxury, only the powerful can afford." I advised.
She was silent for a moment, as I searched her features, looking for any indication my words had found their mark.
Her intelligent eyes held a glint of interest as she finally decided to regard me.
"Do you disagree, songbird?" I asked once more.
She chuckled softly at this, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly. Uncrossing her arms, she straightened her posture, standing to her full height — though the top of her elegant afro barely reached my shoulders. Her gaze remained boldly locked with mine, undaunted.
A flicker of surprise passed over my features then, as her eyes deliberately traced over my lips before meeting my gaze directly once more.
"Do you want me to say I'm impressed, Mr. Park?" she asked, one brow arched. "Because I am."
I watched the playful curve of her mouth as she issued this subtle challenge, and I couldn't help leaning in, drawn helplessly into her orbit. That she stood gracefully just out of reach of.
"Well, songbird, it seems I've succeeded in impressing you after all," I replied, watching with quiet satisfaction as a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her full lips.
"So you'll come sing for us exclusively then?" I added.
She tilted her head ever so slightly, the stage lights catching on the smooth out line of her lashes and the sway of her golden earrings.
"I'm a lady, Mr. Park," she demurred, the picture of nonchalance, except for the playful spark in her eyes. She arched one groomed brow, slowly wagging a manicured finger from side to side in mock admonishment as she made a gentle tsk of disapproval.
"I'll pretend I don't want to at first," she proposed then, her voice low and musical. She crossed her hands and looked at her feet, casually. "So you can come visit me at Paradise for a night or two..."
I found myself leaning in helplessly as I listened to the beguiling cadence of her words.
"And why should I bother working to convince you, even more?" I challenged, as my fingers somehow found way to brushing delicately over her earlobe. "When I could have my pick of the city's best talent..."
I trailed off intentionally, awaiting her reaction. She tilted her chin up to meet my gaze directly, undaunted by my provocation. If anything, a spark of taunt and pull glinted in her eyes.
"I am the best in the city," she stated simply.
My thumb stilled its movements on her skin as I took in the elegant defiance of her posture, the subtle lift of her brow. I let out a soft huff of laughter.
"Is that so?" I murmured. My other hand came to rest lightly on the curve of her waist then without thought, testing the boundaries of our game. "Then what is it about your voice that makes it so superior? Convince me."
She didn't pull away from my touch, only angled herself marginally closer. I felt the warmth of her hip under my palm. Our gazes remained locked in a silent challenge — her daring me to drop the pretense first and close the scant distance still left between us.
This alluring woman had me thoroughly snared without even trying, yet I couldn't bring myself to regret it. Not when she looked at me just like that.
"Well?" I prompted softly when she didn't immediately respond. My eyes dropped briefly to her mouth before meeting her penetrating stare again. "I'm waiting..."
This time it was her, that scoffed lightly before speaking.
"You're willing to sign me as a singer without knowing my name, Mr. Park," she stated matter-of-factly, reaching out to pat my shoulder almost condescendingly, as if dusting off my ego. "It would be cruel to pretend I must convince you."
I huffed out a surprised laugh at her audacity, shaking my head. She withdrew her hand but maintained her position mere inches from me.
"Now, as I was saying..." she continued airily, as if we were discussing nothing more important than the weather. Yet her hypnotic gaze remained boldly locked with mine. "On the third night, bring a contract. And I'll pretend to sign because I couldn't find another decent gig." She paused for a moment. "How about that?"
I admired the elegant line of her neck as she spoke, once more the graceful way she angled her chin. I couldn't resist reaching out to delicately wrap my fingers around one of her glinting earrings again.
"You like that I convince you, instead?"I asked lowly, trailing my thumb just under her ear in teasing strokes. I knew I should release her, but could not seem to make myself withdraw.
She leaned into my touch ever so slightly, in a subtle tell that she wanted this contact just as much.
"Why, you don't want to?" she prodded softly, the corner of her mouth quirking into a smile.
"I think I would enjoy that very much, songbird," I stated in a murmur, as I wondered if she could feel my racing pulse under her ear where my thumb still brushed gently back and forth over her skin.
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What do you guys think about the dynamics so far?
This book had to come with a lot of research, because I wanted to make the timelines make sense. I think this is going to be one of my favorites after the Dusken veil because it gives me a chance to play with a new writing style for the time period.