Page 102 of A Dance of Lies

One leap and they’re off the ground, flying around each other like birds seeking their mates. This is where they deviate from what I had planned, and I can’t help but recall Copelan telling me they didn’t have the setup for aerialists. Not that it matters. I’m not strong enough for it. Still, the reminder sits like soot in my belly as I watch them swirl and glide with incredible poise until the ribbons twine them together into a single, corded rope.

Esmée coils her legs around his torso. Copelan releases his ribbons. Just when I think he might fall, Esmée clenches her thighs tight, catching him so that he’s suspended between them.

Even from here, I can see the breadth of his smile. They take turns, using muscles I forgot existed to form shapes in the air—shapes made together, balanced between each other’s arms.

And I’m so blindingly jealous. Tears sting my eyes and I swallow and swallow, willing them to disappear. I don’t want to be jealous. But the bitterness—it surprises me, because it isn’t her proximity to Copelan that I envy. I thought that would bother me, but somehow, it doesn’t.

It’sher.

Esmée. She’s everything I admire; everything I had longed to be. I imagine that, if given the chance, we would even be friends.

But what hurts the most is howwholeshe is. How strong. All the things I wish my body could do, she does with ease. She can dance without limit—spin and leap and curl into the air with an effortless sort of grace. Oh, how I had taken my abled body for granted. I hadn’t realized what a privilege it was, how thankful I should have been.

She can do things with Copelan that I never can.

More so, she is the embodiment of confidence and poise. The type of woman who could look down her nose at my father. The woman I failed to become.

With the back of my hand, I swipe away a tear. I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have watched this. As for Copelan, I can’t have him. I see that now. She’s a star and he’s her moon. They belong together, in the air, surrounded by the glimmer of a thousand lights.

I press a hand to my heart, willing it to freeze.

I made myself a promise. And though things have not gone as planned, there’s still an inch of hope. Hope that Anton was truthful about his intentions. That he will indeed help me. That we will thwart Illian, and that I will keep my promise to Emilia.Somehow.

I must cling to that hope. Because without it, I will sink into the earth like rainwater, then cease to exist at all.

Copelan drifts down once more, and during his descent, Esmée peels off his shirt. On his chest are painted stripes of color, as if the ribbons bled onto his skin. Once again, the audience crackles with applause as he lands on his feet. He stands there, collecting his praise, with Esmée suspended above him like a swan eclipsing the now-emerging moon. My breathing turns ragged, and no matter how much air I drag in, I don’t feel replenished. So labored are my breaths that I don’t hear the footfalls when they approach.

“Impressive,” a voice drawls. “I suppose I see the appeal.”

I afford Anton a sideways glance before turning back to the stage, so consumed that I forget to bow. Esmée descends in a waterfall of spins. Copelan catches her in his arms, then swings her around in a triumphant twirl before placing her on her feet. It’s her turn for applause now. What a vision they are as they clasp hands, raise them, grins aimed at each other.

I turn away, breathing out the last bit of pain residing in my chest.

Anton tsks. “Trouble in love?”

Of course. He saw our kiss, as did everyone else. All of whom see them together now.

I wrap my arms around myself, trying not to fall apart.

“A shame,” Anton continues, stepping beside me. His eyes are dark, lined in glitter, and a sleeveless emerald jerkin rimmed in gold reveals his sculpted arms. When his shoulder brushes mine, I’m not naïve enough to think it wasn’t on purpose. “He’s attractive, you’re attractive,” he muses. “What fine and talented offspring you might have made.”

Offspring?I wheel around, all rational thought flying from my head. Sparks fill my vision and I shove him backward. “How dare you insinuate—”

He slams against the tree and my eyes go wide, a mirror to hisshock, and it hits me what I’ve done. I just assaulted a Crown. I rush to him. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry—”

He snags my wrists and yanks me toward him. His breath is hot, full of fresh peaches and wine. And he’s grinning.

Grinning.

“There you are,” he says. “I so enjoyed your snark from before; I’d hoped you’d find it again.”

My cheeks flame. But then his fingers tighten on my wrists, and all I can feel are shackles—binding me, locking me in place. “Release me,” I say. “Atonce.”

His eyes lose all humor. “I apologize,” he breathes, dropping his hands, and I blink at him. He just apologized. Tome.“But surely you must know everyone at this Gathering can’t keep their eyes off you—including me, if it wasn’t perfectly obvious. You do not need the one man who gazes elsewhere.”

“Says the man with the Glory Court at his disposal. You have eyes for a hundred women, do you not?” I say it because I have no idea what to make of his statement or the annoying little sparks filling my belly like a swarm of fireflies.

He’s merely trying to get under my skin—because he enjoys that, apparently.