uninterrupted by the procession of steps. “It gives me great pleasure.”
Despite the flurry of steps, Serentha felt a slow chill spread up her spine. A grip like panic seemed to seize her. For some reason she couldn’t quite grasp she wanted nothing more than to escape from his grasp. His hand around her waist seemed suddenly cold.
“I—I don’t think I’m feeling too well,” she said abruptly. The dance floor began to spin around her. The feeling of panic increased.
Bathsby smiled disarmingly. “Your Highness would certainly not deny me the chance to finish this dance?” He spun her again on the third note, her skirt swishing the floor. “We’ve only just begun.”
She said nothing, closing her eyes as the nobleman led her across the floor. Around her the other nobles of the court danced and laughed. No one noticed her.
“I wanted to speak with you,” Bathsby continued in an almost casual tone. “About Lord Whitmore.”
They turned, the music flitting on in the background. “What about him?”
Bathsby whisked her around, the smile never vanishing from his face. “I have heard he intends to marry you.”
Serentha felt the pit of her stomach drop. She needed to stop this dance, but she didn’t know how.
The music rose to a crescendo. Lord Bathsby held her left hand tightly. “Is that true, Your Highness?”
She tried to respond, but her mouth was completely dry.
A black-gloved hand clapped down on Bathsby’s shoulder. The nobleman halted, and turned around.
Kendril stood behind him, smiling amiably. “May I break in, Lord Bathsby?”
For a moment a spark of something like anger crossed Bathsby’s face, but he quickly composed himself, and his smile returned. “I didn’t know you danced, Mr. Kendril.”
“It’s been a while, but I think I remember the basics.” The Ghostwalker moved forward, holding out his gloved hand to Serentha. “Your Highness?”
She nodded, a wave of relief spreading through her. Kendril took her hand. They moved out together onto the dance floor just as the waltz ended. The orchestra readjusted their instruments, ready to play again.
With a frozen smile, Bathsby melted back against the wall, his gaze still on the Ghostwalker and the princess.
“You looked like you could use an interruption,” said Kendril with a shadowy glance in Bathsby’s direction. He bowed to Serentha as the orchestra started a slower waltz.
“Thank you,” she managed. They faced each other, and Serentha put her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me. I was just—” she struggled to find the words to properly describe it.
Kendril nodded, and took her left hand with his right. “I think I know what you mean,” he said.
The beautiful strains of the music drifted over the floor as they danced, the crystal chandeliers sparkling above them.
“I wouldn’t have thought you knew how to dance,” said Serentha.
Kendril shrugged. “I’m just full of surprises.”
She smiled, then seemed to remember herself, glancing down at the floor. “Kendril, about Lord Whitmore--”
He didn’t meet her gaze. “What about him? You’re doing the right thing. The best thing for Llewyllan.”
Serentha glanced off towards the side of the ballroom, but she couldn’t see Lord Bathsby anymore. “I don’t know if I care what’s best for Llewyllan anymore,” she said in a quiet voice. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. Jade? Serentha? Does it even matter?”
She leaned her head forward, resting it on Kendril’s shoulder as they danced.
“Don’t worry,” she said in a bittersweet tone, “I promise I won’t touch you.”
“Jade—” he began, his voice uncertain.
“Don’t say anything,” she said again. “Just let me be, all right?”
Kendril started to respond, but gave a short nod instead. “All right.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
Serentha closed her eyes.
They danced in silence, the music filling the hall.
Kara stopped at the end of
Despite the flurry of steps, Serentha felt a slow chill spread up her spine. A grip like panic seemed to seize her. For some reason she couldn’t quite grasp she wanted nothing more than to escape from his grasp. His hand around her waist seemed suddenly cold.
“I—I don’t think I’m feeling too well,” she said abruptly. The dance floor began to spin around her. The feeling of panic increased.
Bathsby smiled disarmingly. “Your Highness would certainly not deny me the chance to finish this dance?” He spun her again on the third note, her skirt swishing the floor. “We’ve only just begun.”
She said nothing, closing her eyes as the nobleman led her across the floor. Around her the other nobles of the court danced and laughed. No one noticed her.
“I wanted to speak with you,” Bathsby continued in an almost casual tone. “About Lord Whitmore.”
They turned, the music flitting on in the background. “What about him?”
Bathsby whisked her around, the smile never vanishing from his face. “I have heard he intends to marry you.”
Serentha felt the pit of her stomach drop. She needed to stop this dance, but she didn’t know how.
The music rose to a crescendo. Lord Bathsby held her left hand tightly. “Is that true, Your Highness?”
She tried to respond, but her mouth was completely dry.
A black-gloved hand clapped down on Bathsby’s shoulder. The nobleman halted, and turned around.
Kendril stood behind him, smiling amiably. “May I break in, Lord Bathsby?”
For a moment a spark of something like anger crossed Bathsby’s face, but he quickly composed himself, and his smile returned. “I didn’t know you danced, Mr. Kendril.”
“It’s been a while, but I think I remember the basics.” The Ghostwalker moved forward, holding out his gloved hand to Serentha. “Your Highness?”
She nodded, a wave of relief spreading through her. Kendril took her hand. They moved out together onto the dance floor just as the waltz ended. The orchestra readjusted their instruments, ready to play again.
With a frozen smile, Bathsby melted back against the wall, his gaze still on the Ghostwalker and the princess.
“You looked like you could use an interruption,” said Kendril with a shadowy glance in Bathsby’s direction. He bowed to Serentha as the orchestra started a slower waltz.
“Thank you,” she managed. They faced each other, and Serentha put her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me. I was just—” she struggled to find the words to properly describe it.
Kendril nodded, and took her left hand with his right. “I think I know what you mean,” he said.
The beautiful strains of the music drifted over the floor as they danced, the crystal chandeliers sparkling above them.
“I wouldn’t have thought you knew how to dance,” said Serentha.
Kendril shrugged. “I’m just full of surprises.”
She smiled, then seemed to remember herself, glancing down at the floor. “Kendril, about Lord Whitmore--”
He didn’t meet her gaze. “What about him? You’re doing the right thing. The best thing for Llewyllan.”
Serentha glanced off towards the side of the ballroom, but she couldn’t see Lord Bathsby anymore. “I don’t know if I care what’s best for Llewyllan anymore,” she said in a quiet voice. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. Jade? Serentha? Does it even matter?”
She leaned her head forward, resting it on Kendril’s shoulder as they danced.
“Don’t worry,” she said in a bittersweet tone, “I promise I won’t touch you.”
“Jade—” he began, his voice uncertain.
“Don’t say anything,” she said again. “Just let me be, all right?”
Kendril started to respond, but gave a short nod instead. “All right.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
Serentha closed her eyes.
They danced in silence, the music filling the hall.
Kara stopped at the end of
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