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The sound of soft classical music filled the large venue. The castle typically was empty. Tamas rarely let anyone in the castle after the war. It was brutal, and Adoptest was still recovering, but he knew it was better to let civilians in and bring back a sense of normalcy. At least for Tamas.
He watched from the deck as the citizens danced around. It was by no means the royal balls as Tamas was used to. But he was going to make this city different. There would be no King, no monarchy. The first election was going to be soon, and Tamas was thankful to be rid of the chaos.
He was done with leading. With being the leader of Adoptest, of the army, of everything and everyone. He needed a drink is what he needed.
“Sir, the guest are wondering when you’re going to come down for a dance?”
Tamas turned to face Olem. His bodyguard looked like. Cleaned up nicely. He was used to seeing Olem with his scruffy [and Tamas would add dirty] beard, bags under his eyes, and a uniform that most likely hadn’t been washed in a week or two. Tamas couldn’t blame him because he had done the same while they were fighting a war. They didn’t have time to wash and upkeep their uniforms when they were fighting a war. Onne that was close to Adoptest. But now, Olem was cleaned up. His beard was trimmed and cleaned, same with his hair, and his uniform was fresh. Clean. Maybe even new. It was a nice change.
So with a hum, he turned to look back over the balcony. Dancing was something Tamas never enjoyed, not even with his wife Erika. He did wish, in the reality that she wasn’t dead, he did dance with her more. “Are they now? Didn’t think my presence was needed for the guest to have fun.”
Olem moved to stand next to Tamas on the balcony. Tamas watched as his eyes moved around the grand ballroom. Looking at the little nooks and spaces near the ceiling. Looking for snipers. Always working. “Guess they’d like to see the hero of Adoptest again. They all call you that, y’know.”
A groan left Tamas, “don’t get me started with that. I’m no hero. Just doing my job. If they want a hero they should have you and the Riflejacks.” The way Olem tensed next to Tamas didn’t go unnoticed, but he chose to ignore it. Waiting for a response, but when none came, he continued. “You should be the one dancing down there Olem. Go find a nice lady to dance with. Unfortunately, Vlora isn’t here.”
A nervous twitch left Olem as he rested his hands along the golden railing. Picking at his short nails. There was obviously something on his mind, so with a sigh, Tamas did what any normal person would. “What’s wrong Olem?”
“I… I don’t know how to dance Tamas.”
Tamas blinked a few times before he finally understood what Olem had said. “You can’t dance? You’re telling me you served in the army and didn’t know how to dance? Nobody wanted to dance with you during those little parties the troops throw?” He watched as Olem opened his mouth not once, but three times before keeping it shut. He felt his patience thinning with him. “Spit it out or get down there and pretend you know how to dance.”
A fearful look entered Olem’s eyes before he finally stopped picking at his nails. Lowering his eyes back to the party goers below them. Tamas could tell his mouth was dry by the way he talked. “I, um… It’s not exactly easy to dance when…”
Another pause before Olem simply took a deep breath. Closing his eyes and collecting his thoughts. “It’s not easy to learn how to dance when nobody will dance with you.”
The field marshall simply let out a groan, “Adom Olem, it can’t be that hard to find a lady-”
“No disrespect Tamas, but I don’t mean ladies.”
Tamas turned to face Olem. His expression was unreadable, as it usually was. “Not ladies? Care to elaborate?”
The Colonel before Tamas started to fidget again. Moving to rub at the ends of his cuffs before gesturing down below at the party goers. “Well, most men dance with the ladies. But, uh, I never felt comfortable doing that? I’ve always wanted to…”
“Dance with a man?”
There was fear in Olem’s eyes as he turned to look at Tamas and nod, and the silence between them was tense. Heavy.
“Well pit, if you told me I would’ve taught ya. I taught Taniel when he was younger. Still have some tricks up my sleeve. This dog ain’t that old.”
Now it was Olem’s turn to be surprised, looking at Tamas almost confused. “You-What? You, I’m confused, sir.”
A groan left Tamas before he moved to lay his hand on Olem’s shoulder. Getting the young soldier to look at him. “Listen, I don’t care who you like. Men or women. Just stay away from my son and Vlora. Guess I don’t have to worry about you and Vlora then.” After a short pause Tamas lowered his hand, “still will teach you. So when you do find someone you at least can do something.”
The soft smile that spread over Olem’s face filled Tamas’ heart. The realization of how differently Olem was probably treated because of this information dawned on him. He’d have to whip the troops back into shape once more before he left. So Olem didn’t have to fear. “I’d love that, and from you? Might be learning from the best.”
“Stop pulling on my leg Olem, I ain’t teaching you anything but the basics. Don’t even think I remember that.”
To anyone that glanced up at the balcony would see the Field Marshall teaching his bodyguard how to dance, and without knowing they would look away. But to them, it was more.