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“Dances have sacred meanings.” Dakarai’s voice filled the silence between the tolls. “That is true in the Empire, Orthros, and Tenebra. They may have different steps and rhythms, but dances are how all of us honor our past, celebrate our present, and express our hopes for the future.”
The house bells launched into a melody. Kitharos joined them on his lyre, and Dakarai took up a stately rhythm on his drum. Cassia recognized the traditional Tenebran processional.
Lord Gaius, the highest-ranking noble in the embassy, bowed to Cassia. She took his arm, and they led the other Tenebrans to line up on the dance floor. Cassia beheld who stood parallel to them at the head of the Hesperine line.
The Queens stood hand-in-hand, ready to lead their majestic people in Tenebra’s little dance. Behind them, from Konstantina and Adwene to Xandra and Harkhuf, every royal firstblood in attendance adhered to their mothers’ program. Next in line were all the elder firstbloods except Kitharos and Dakarai. Apollon and Komnena smiled at Cassia, and Argyros and Lyta gave her encouraging glances. Hypatia looked sour, Khaldaios disinterested. At least Lyros’s parents looked happy to be here. Timarete’s feet were already tapping under her robes. Astrapas kissed her hand.
Cassia had played Kyria in a dance, but never followed in the footsteps of the Queens. She gave them a curtsy as deep as she dared. She only hoped Konstantina and Hypatia would not hold this against her the way the Tenebran ladies had the Autumn Greeting.
Side by side but never meeting, the embassy and the Hesperines acted out the grand processional, and the old Tenebran formality became something more beautiful to Cassia than she had ever known it to be.
The opening procession seemed to establish a truce between the two halves of the ball. Although mortals only danced with mortals, most members of the embassy did venture to join Cassia on the floor through the following dances. The Hesperines honored the unspoken arrangement and danced with one another, never pressuring any of the embassy with invitations. Cassia did her duty with various lords in order of rank and watched Lio do the honors with his Trial sisters, his mother, and various Ritual tributaries of Blood Komnena.
Even now, she must not let on that she was watching. One stray glance, one gaze that lasted too long, might betray her. A circle dance carried her round and round, giving her a glimpse of Lio, then Chrysanthos, then Lio.
She could keep up appearances a little longer. This time she knew what reward awaited her. She would not pine, unrequited, as she had while Lio danced with the ladies of the Tenebran royal court. He was her partner, and every Hesperine in the room knew it.
Nodora had promised a reprise of her welcome gift to Cassia. Someone would have to break the ice between Hesperines and mortals. Of course that must be the ambassador and the royal representative.
Cassia stole a respite from the lords at the Semna’s bench, where Perita had engrossed herself in a conversation with the Kyrians and Cherans about the fabric most suitable for veils. Callen wore a bored expression but did not budge from the bench beside his wife. Cassia suspected he would somehow thank Perita later, even if he wouldn’t admit how much he appreciated her pretending she was too busy talking to dance.
Cassia’s heart twinged again. Her lover had two good legs and always would. He would never have to worry about battle scars, or rheumatism, or…getting old.
Cassia looked at the faces of her friends. She had watched countless people, from the highest courtiers to the lowest palace servants, don mourning clothes. She, who had worn the mourning veil over her heart for her sister these fourteen and a half years, had seldom stopped to consider others’ grief.
Those people hadn’t been her friends. But they were all someone’s Callens and Peritas, weren’t they?
One day, Callen would lose Perita, or Perita would lose Callen. It might be childbirth that took her. It might be his leg that broke him.
Cassia would lose them both.
“My lady, are you feeling well?” Perita asked.
Cassia’s throat ached. She cleared it and put on her most convincing smile. “Just fine. The music is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s good to hear a bit of home,” Callen agreed.
Cassia should get to her feet and dance onward. She found herself lingering on the bench, listening to Perita chat, watching the way Callen sat with his arm in his wife’s as if it were his natural position. Such everyday matters had never before struck her as so precious, nor threatened to bring her to tears.
She looked away. Balls were always a good opportunity to observe others and glean useful information, especially about opponents. Konstantina and her partisans may have been glaringly absent at the fair, but tonight they were visible to the utmost. They dominated one area of the ballroom opposite.
The Second Princess held court beneath an arch of her roses, surrounded by her devotees, all of them smotheringly elegant. What a contrast to the Queens, who sat together in the triforium in a bower of roses and black-and-white banners, chatting so merrily with Mak and Lyros, one would never take Lio’s Trial brothers for their honor guard.
Cassia observed that a musician from the dais joined Konstantina’s party whenever he was not playing. He was extraordinarily handsome from head to toe, and his glamorous, oiled blond hair suggested he spent more time before a mirror than did all the princes of Cordium combined. He must be Nodora’s oh-so-glorious brother, Epodos. The equally blond and pretty female fawning over him appeared to be his Grace, and well matched to him in temperament.
Konstantina laughed at everything they said. The only quiet one was Baltasar. As Khaldaios’s son by birth, whom Hypatia had adopted as her own firstgift, he bore a family resemblance to his bronze-skinned Imperial father, but also seemed to share Khaldaios’s moderate temperament.
Cassia stared without appearing to stare, unsure how much she could glean. Her Divine was so limited. Even so, she must start putting the sounds together with the lips sometime. Now seemed an excellent opportunity to start.
She focused on Konstantina and her partisans’ display. Cassia watched the motion of their lips and let them suggest sounds to her. Sounds she knew from Vulgus came to her first, broken, imperfect suggestions as to the music of Divine. Every now and then she would seem to gain a flash of understanding, but as soon as she focused too hard, it escaped her.
She stopped thinking and trying to match and simply watched, as she was wont to do with any speakers. The music of the ball faded from her awareness, and the other voices around her blurred into an indistinct hum.
“I was going to put Lio’s little Cassia in the ballad.” Epodos’s beautiful lips quivered with suppressed laughter. “Alas, I could not find any words that rhyme with liegehound.”
Cassia put a hand in Knight’s ruff and glared at them. Epodos’s Grace was laughing too hard to notice, and he was too focused on himself.
Baltasar didn’t smile. “You aren’t creative enough.”
