Chapter 214: The Trouble With Dancing
Chapter 213: The Trouble With Dancing
Lyria’s POV
The night did not bring sleep easily.
I lay upon my bed, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts circling the same question again and again until the ceiling itself seemed to blur.
How was I to learn to dance?
Books, perhaps. There must be texts that described the steps, the postures, the way one ought to move across the floor. I could study them. Memorize the instructions. Practice in the privacy of my chambers when the maids were absent.
But I knew, even as I thought it, that such methods would not suffice.
Dancing was not like reading. One could not learn it from a page. One needed a partner. A partner who knew the steps, who could guide, who could correct without cruelty.
And I had no such partner.
The thought followed me into the grey light of morning.
The maids arrived at the usual hour.
Diana carried the basin. Sally carried the towels. Theresa carried nothing but her usual expression of mild disdain.
They prepared me for the day without speaking more than was necessary. I sat before the mirror and let them work—brushing, pinning, arranging—while my mind remained elsewhere.
"Your Highness," Diana said.
I blinked.
"Your Highness," she repeated. "We are finished."
I looked at my reflection.
The scar beside my eye had been concealed. My hair had been arranged in a style that was neither elaborate nor simple. The gown they had chosen was pale green, soft and unassuming.
"Your date today," Diana said, "is with Duke Aurelgrave."
I nodded.
"It will occur at the eastern garden, the path near the fountain."
I nodded again.
Then I rose from the chair and followed them out of the chamber.
The eastern garden was quiet when we arrived.
The rain from the previous day had left the paths damp, and the air smelled of wet earth and blooming flowers. The fountain at the centre of the garden murmured softly, its water catching the pale morning light.
Lucian was already there.
He stood near the fountain, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, his gaze fixed upon the water. His golden hair caught the light, and his posture was as composed as ever.
I could not remember if I extended a greeting to him. I only know we began a stroll and I had not realized I was walking quickly until he held my hand which made me jump in shock.
"You s-scared me," I said, pressing my hand to my chest.
Lucian released my arm at once.
"My apologies," he said. "I did not mean to startle you."
He studied my face with those blue eyes of his.
"I have been attempting to speak with you," he said. "You did not appear to hear me."
I blinked.
"I w-was lost in thought," I said. "I a-apologise."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Have I offended you at some point?" he asked. "Is that why you were ignoring me?"
I stared at him. What absurd thinking.
"Why w-would you think s-such a thing?"
He shrugged.
"I do not know," he said. "It was the only explanation that came to mind. You seemed determined to keep your distance."
I shook my head.
"That is n-not it at all," I said. "I was m-merely... p-preoccupied."
His expression softened slightly.
"Would you be so kind," he asked, "as to tell me what troubles you? If I can be of any assistance..."
I hesitated.
"You c-cannot h-help," I said.
"You are so certain of that when you have not yet told me what it is that troubles you so," he said.
I was quiet for a long while.
Somewhere in the distance, a bird called out, its song sharp and bright against the stillness.
Then I spoke.
"I d-do not know h-how to dance," I said.
My voice came out smaller than I had intended.
Lucian blinked.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then his lips twitched.
"You are l-laughing at me," I said.
He pressed his lips together.
"I am not," he said.
"You are."
"I am merely..."
He stopped.
A chuckle escaped him.
"You are l-laughing," I said again, my voice rising slightly.
He raised a hand to his mouth, attempting to contain the sound.
"I apologise," he said. "Truly. I do not mean to—"
Another laugh interrupted him.
I crossed my arms.
"This is n-not amusing," I informed him.
"It is a little amusing," he said.
"It is n-not."
He lowered his hand, though the corners of his mouth remained curved.
"You are quite formidable when you are cross," he observed.
"I am n-not cross. I am merely... frustrated."
"At me?"
"At the situation."
He nodded slowly.
"I see," he said.
Then he laughed again.
I turned away from him, my cheeks warming.
"You are impossible," I muttered.
"I have never been told that before," he said. "Only you have said it."
I looked back at him. "W-well it is the t-truth. I did not tell you o-of what troubles me to be l-laughed at by y-you," I said to him.
He was watching me with an expression I could not quite name. His eyes were soft and even in this moment I knew just how beautiful they were.
"You truly do not know how to dance?" he asked.
"No."
"At all?" he asked, a frown on his face. "Surely you must have taken lessons when we were younger?"
"Would I b-be having this i-issue if I had?" I asked him.
Then I sighed.
"It is e-even more of a p-problem because at the end of t-the week there will be a b-ball held and I know the moon c-candidates must d-dance with the suitor candidates."
I paused before I continued.
"I-if it is found out t-that I c-cannot d-dance, I would be made a monkey of. And e-even if it is n-no fault of mine for that, I w-would be likely p-punished for it," I informed him.
Lucian remained quiet without saying a word.
