Chapter Thirty-Four

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Annabeth looked out of a window at a perfect December evening: the sky was clear and bright and illuminated by a silver-gold full moon and bluish-white stars. These celestial bodies lit the way for the carriages arriving at Skye Castle. It was just frosty enough that Annabeth's breath clouded the glass panes and the breath of guests walking to the front door hung around their heads like wreaths of smoke.
Three-hundred beeswax candles, tall enough to burn for eight hours, lit up the ballroom. Their mirrors and gilt-work shone and glittered and made the room seem even brighter. His Grace and the Duchess greeted the guests as they filed in, bowing and curtsying. All these grand and well-dressed people looked like figures from a fairytale; attendees at a ball where a princess dances with her prince.
So much depended on this ball. Annabeth was restless from excitement one moment and paralyzed with nerves the next. What if her gown wasn't smart enough? What if her dancing were clumsy? What if no one asked her to stand up with them? What if this ball was everything she'd ever dreamed it would be? All these conflicting feelings left Annabeth dizzy and muddled.
"Miss Chase, " Lord Skye approached her and bowed. He wore a new suit sent down by his London tailor: a high-collared red tailcoat and cream-colored waistcoat and breeches.
"Would you care to be my partner for the Grand March?"

 "Would you care to be my partner for the Grand March?"

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"I'd be delighted, My Lord, " she replied

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"I'd be delighted, My Lord, " she replied. She took his hand and they joined the line of dancers.
The Grand March was simply a promenade around the ballroom which offered an opportunity for everyone to show off their clothes and spot potential dance partners.

A/N Grand March

Lord Skye's gaze was on Piper, who was with Mr. Malcolm Pace, the young village curate.
"She's wearing her ring again, you know, " Annabeth said to Lord Skye. The ring glittered against the white kid's skin of Piper's glove. "You should ask her for the next dance."
He breathed a sigh of relief.
"I will."
The next dance was Auretti's, Dutch Skipper. Mr. Vitellius, Dona Reyna's rejected beau, asked Annabeth to partner with him. Annabeth did not particularly want to but she had no other options. If she said no, she would have to sit that dance out.
He looked awkward leaping and prancing through the movements of the dance. His palms felt clammy through his gloves when Annabeth had to touch hands with him.

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