Page 6 of The Shadows Between Us
I imagine what the scene must look like from up on the dais—the black center of a daisy amid sage petals.
More and more girls exit the ballroom after obtaining their introductions. I hope the line ends soon. There can’t bethatmany girls of noble blood.
A sudden spark of heat lands on my neck and spreads down to my toes. I’m being watched. “Tell me, Father, have we attracted the notice of the king yet?”
Father glimpses the throne out of the corner of his eye. They widen. “I believe we have.”
“Excellent. Keep dancing.”
“But—”
“Father,” I warn.
I let myself get lost in the steps. I do so love dancing. I love the way my body becomes light and fluid when I go through the motions, the way the spins send my hair over my shoulders, the way my skirt twirls around my legs.
When the song is nearly over, I ask, “How many women are left in line?”
“Ten.”
The song ends, and the orchestra strikes up another.
“Should we—?” Father starts.
“I’m parched. Let’s go to the tables for some refreshment.”
“But—”
At my glare, he takes my arm once more and leads me up to a table laden with red-filled glasses and tiny samples of food on trays.
I select a glass, holding it in my fingers by the long stem, and bring it to my lips.
“Lord Masis,” a bright voice says from the other side of the thin table.
I look up. Before us is a golden-haired noble older than I. Perhaps thirty. He still appears young in the face, but he’s much broader in the shoulders than the men I’m used to entertaining.
“Lord Eliades!” Father greets, forgetting me for a moment. “Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in weeks at the club.”
I haven’t the faintest idea what club he’s referencing, but I suppose I should have known Father wasn’t spending his evenings at a mistress’s. He never has gotten over Mother.
Father stretches out a hand to shake Eliades’s, and I note that the younger gentleman has quite the calluses on his right hand. How unusual for a lord. But as I take note of the distinct muscles visible through his dress pants, I’d deem him an accomplished horseman.
“Alas, my estates have needed my full attention this long while. I’ve needed to…”
Already bored with the conversation, I don’t bother listening in. Instead, I turn around to survey those dancing. One gentleman steps on his partner’s foot during a turn because he has his eyes on my legs.
“Ow,” she protests.
I smile down into my glass, taking another sip, careful not to look anywhere near the throne. I swear I can still feel a ray of heat bearing down on me from that direction.
“Forgive my rudeness!” Father suddenly exclaims more loudly.“Orrin, this is my daughter Alessandra. Now that Chrysantha is betrothed, I’m permitting her an outing at the palace.”
I stifle a groan before turning. I suppose it only helps my cause to be seen interacting with other guests and not showing any interest in the king. But I’m also certain I will find any friend of my father’s to be intolerable.
I grasp my overskirt in my free hand and curtsy. “A pleasure.”
Eliades’s eyes sparkle before he dips into a bow. “She’s as beautiful as the elder. Is her temperament just as sweet?”
Before Father has to scramble for an answer to that question, Eliades adds, “I’m still put out that you did not give Chrysantha to me. My money is just as good as a duke’s!”
