Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 35 - No Choice is a Good Choice

Kastali Dun

Claire collapsed on the sofa, laughing, trying to catch her breath. Her head turned almost as quickly as her feet had, just moments before. Her heart raced too, hammering blood through her ears. Giggles from Desaree, Jocelyn, and Saffra mirrored her own.

They were dancing.

Furniture had been pushed aside to leave a large area for practice. Friends-turned-dance-instructors advised her on all of Dragonwall's formal dances. She learned the steps, the etiquette, the bows. How to flounce and prance and simper. All of it.

"I'm not sure I can breathe if we're circling that fast!" She gasped, hand on her stomach. "Especially in my ball gown." She half sat, half sprawled across the sofa. They'd just gone through a Spiral, Dragonwall's most exhilarating dance, with lots of turns and sweeps. Apparently expert level. Most people bowed out of this one.

"You'll be expected to perform it perfectly, if asked," said Saffra. "And believe me, the musicians perform it at least once every ball, for those who are daring enough to attempt it. There are always a few."

If King Talon challenged her to this particular dance....

"I'll be ready," she assured them. She would not fail in front of the court.

"Let's stop for something to eat," said Jocelyn. "I'm famished!" Jocelyn and Saffra had partnered up together while Desaree and Claire made a second pair. They'd spent nearly two hours that morning—since dawn—practicing. For the opening number, Claire would be expected to dance a variation of a waltz with Talon. Lots of bowing, curtsying, and stepping about, circling each other. Its formal title was a Tromp, and it was a fan favorite.

Their breakfast had long since been delivered, but they hadn't touched it. "Right. Breakfast. Good idea." Claire glanced at the table. "I'm famished too."

It was a stretch. With the tournament's ball taking place later that evening, they had all but run out of time to get her ready. She was coordinated, decent on her feet. Her lessons with Jovari and Koldis had gone a long way in that regard. And she'd had some dance lessons growing up, when her mother wasn't sure what her calling was. A few years of jazz, ballet, and tap. Of course, that was before her teen years. But she'd gained a good sense of self, a good sense of coordination.

Would it be enough?

The idea of being on display for the first dance of the evening set her nerves on edge. She was determined to perform it flawlessly. As an outsider now favored, she had to prove herself. Prove she was able to adjust to Draongwall's customs.

"If you're still feeling uncomfortable, we can run through everything again after we eat," Saffra said, releasing Jocelyn from the embrace they had shared as they acted out a Gallop. "Another hour and you should be as good as the rest of us."

Claire snorted. "I very much doubt that. You've got a lifetime of experience on me. But...we'll see."

They gathered around the table, laughing and speculating over how the night would go. She'd just filled her plate when a knock came at the door. "I'll get it," Des said, jumping to her feet. Bedelth swept into the room.

Claire dropped her fork, starting to rise. "Bedelth? Is everything all right? Talon?"

"Our king is fine. Please, sit. Forgive me for the unexpected interruption." He hesitated, taking in the scattered furniture and table full of food. His gaze settled on Saffra as he said, "Might I have a word?" His posture was rigid, perhaps even a little uncertain.

The four of them glanced at each other across the table.

Saffra frowned. "Surely it is nothing that cannot be said before the others."