Treacherous Witch

14. Dancing Lessons

"The first domain is mastery over the self. That's the first thing we teach our acolytes when they accept the blessing."
Interview with Queen Shikra III, as told to Master Anwen

To her surprise, the dancing lessons continued. Lord Avon wanted her to learn the waltz for their visit to Enyr. She'd had two lessons so far with Jaxon, one of the courtiers, but she had expected her part in the visit to be swiftly curtailed.

"One day off sick, and you think you should give it up altogether?" Jaxon chided her. "The court won't wait. You must be ready."

They'd explained away her absence with a mild intemperance, though she had to wonder whether any of the courtiers knew the truth. They were sharp on gossip in the court, and the entire palace guard had no doubt been instructed to keep a close eye on her.

In the palace ballroom, which was the largest hall she had ever set foot in, Jaxon placed a hand on her waist. She assumed the hold he had taught her.

"Now, play."

Another of the courtiers, Argo, played the opening notes on the grand piano. She had learned that he was not attached to any particular lord and instead enjoyed the patronage of the court thanks to his gifts in music, singing, and poetry.

The waltz began, Jaxon's hand on her waist guiding her through it. One, two—she tried to remember to hold her arm firm—turning about the ballroom, focusing on the steps.

"You're looking at your feet," said Jaxon. "Always look into your lord's eyes during the dance. Look at him as if there's no one else."

She looked up. Jaxon's eyes were warm. He loved the dance, and he was a patient teacher. But in Enyr, she would be dancing with Avon. Looking into his eyes.

He had broken his promise not to harm her. In that terrifying moment when the blade had plunged into her flesh, she had seen what she had always feared in him. She supposed that she had broken her side of the deal first by trying to run away. Where they stood now, she didn't know.

What could she do other than try to escape? What could he do other than trap her further?

"Stop," said Jaxon, and she blinked, stumbling. Wrong step. "You need to focus."

She grimaced. "I'm not feeling well."

It wasn't even a lie. She let go of Jaxon's hand, flexing her fingers. No sign of her injury remained except for a phantom pain, the memory of violence.

"Are you well enough to walk?"

She nodded.

"Then you're well enough to try again."

Try again.

There was a question. 

*

Later that night, Priska delivered another letter from her grandmother.

Valerie,

We are hoping to see you. I've written to Captain Doryn who says it should be possible to arrange a supervised visit. Please don't worry about us. Koel grumbles about his missing work tools, but we are alive and well. The family stays strong.

Hold fast and keep the faith.

Aurelia

PS. Markus sends his love.

She read it twice, then curled up under the bed covers and crumpled the letter against her chest. What awful timing. Any visit that Doryn might have agreed to would no doubt be cancelled. Lord Avon would never approve.