The void in my lungs shrank, shrank, shrank…and then exploded.
I wasn’t sure when I started screaming, or if it was even originating from my mouth or from what felt like the gaping hole in my chest. But then I could feel it ripping through my throat. My hand strained for Arjan against the straps.
A half-dozen guards were already holding me down, and someone in a lab coat was readying a syringe.
I couldn’t free myself. But I did encounter blackness like never before. Blackness that entirely swallowed my vision, and then turned to the brightest, purest white.
Keeping a smile in place while returning to the royal dais was one of the hardest things I’d had to do in my life. It took everything I’d ever learned about controlling my facial features and body language. As I made my way through the crowd, part of me didn’t care if I managed to fool the hundreds of onlookers into thinking Prince Nevarian was as lively as ever. And yet I had to care. Saving face for myself might not matter, but if I embarrassed my family here, now, with all the systems watching, the result would be catastrophic.
I heard people talking, and the Unifier Bishop spread his hands in blessing, but it was in the background. My mouth formed a smile and my hand took Ket’s, but all I could think about was Qole, somewhere in the palace, angry and despising everything about me.
The music began again, a choir lending our first dance as a betrothed couple an almost reverential air.
Ket tilted her chin up and didn’t smile as we began to dance, alone on the giant ballroom floor. One of her hands rested in mine, the other on my arm, which I held out in the rigid posture customary for the slow walks and cross changes of the form.
If Ket remained this emotionless and unengaged, it would almost be worse than not having the dance at all. I tore my mind away from Qole and set it on the task at hand.
“Ketrana, you dance as lovely as you look.” Before the sentence was out, I knew it was a pathetic attempt.
She didn’t respond, except to arch her neck away from me even more. My dance with Qole must have been more attention-grabbing than I had realized. That, and Solara’s snide commentary couldn’t have helped.
I briefly toyed with ordering her to look happy, but if that made her angrier it could seriously backfire. I couldn’t fight with her on the dance floor; I had to make her smile.
Everything I’d been learning about how to make Qole smile simply didn’t apply here. Any sense of the absurd, any self-recognition, and most especially any honesty would have the exact wrong effect.
Which probably meant I would just have to act the opposite.
“This is one of the most important moments of my life,” I told her. If I hadn’t felt such revulsion, I would have laughed hysterically.
No reaction.
“The honor you grant me is supreme. I thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart.” I want nothing to do with this; I want nothing to do with this.
Evidently, Ket was vain enough to believe she was honoring me, since she relaxed a little into the dance for the first time. Her tiny frame felt so different from Qole’s that I remained silent for a moment, trying to process it.
It was progress, but not enough, and we were running out of time. I knew what she wanted to hear. I knew the lie that would kill anything real.
I tasted bile in my mouth as I opened it. “I’m glad to be finally dancing with someone who knows what they are doing. I was just trying to be polite, but that poor, rustic girl was so bad it was embarrassing.”
But the dance was so much better.
I couldn’t bring myself to say anything directly against Qole’s character, but even so, it felt like I had betrayed her yet again. First each member of my family had mistreated her, and now I was joining in, behind her back.
Ket giggled and tossed her hair. “Oh, I know.” Her hand lightly caressed my arm. “There’s nobody quite like me.”
Mission accomplished. I felt misery settle into my bones.
When the song finally ended, applause erupted, cheers rang out, and everyone felt like they weren’t uptight, backstabbing poseurs. Except, notably, me.
People crowded back on the dance floor as another song began, but I moved to escort Ket back to the dais to greet my family. Solara intercepted us. I narrowed my eyes, trying to decide if a public altercation with my sister was worth it. Given how publicly she had demeaned Qole, it was an attractive option.
“My darling, gorgeous Ket!” Solara cried. “You were a vision. Would you mind terribly if I tore my brother away from you for just a moment? I’ve asked the musicians for ‘Flight of the Dracortes,’ and I doubt anyone else here is up to speed. Besides, it’s tradition. Unless you’re afraid, brother.” She grinned at me, tugging on the lapel of my suit.
“Flight of the Dracortes” was as dynamic a piece as it was a difficult dance. Most participants never attempted the proper steps, and instead used a simpler variant that had been developed over the years. Customarily, a Dracorte performed it after officially completing the trial of their Dracorte Flight, as a further sign that they had proven themselves.
“Afraid? What would I be afraid of?? Your skills?” I brushed her hand off my lapel. “But honestly, I haven’t the time for this, Solara.”
“Prince Nevarian and Princess Solara shall now dance ‘Flight of the Dracortes’ in a brother-sister dance,” an entirely too-breathless announcer nearly squealed. Sure enough, the beginning solo notes began to lilt, filling the air with electricity.
Great Collapse, is there no end to the hoops I have to jump through? I grabbed her hand, all but snarling. “Very well, then, I’ll show you what I’m capable of.”
Solara smiled. “That’s what the dance is for, my brother.”
Some dances were difficult not because they were fast, but because they were slow. The measured pace of the movements was critical, and flaws could arise in the steps, hand gestures, and fluidity that were not nearly as visible in high-energy dancing. “Flight of the Dracortes,” at one time, had been this kind of dance. It had become faster and faster over the centuries, until it now encompassed the worst of both worlds. Requiring dizzying speed and complete accuracy, it would have been hellish if it weren’t a joy to learn.
I had mastered it at a young age. Every hook, every heel pull, every step I had learned with the same precision as fencing or sparring—which was exactly what Solara and I were doing.
Without faltering, she matched me step for step. She responded to my lead with complete assurance. She wasn’t backing down, and that served only to make me angrier. I raised her hand and spun her into me, then framed her as she went through a staccato burst of footwork to the beat that infiltrated the piano and strings.