Chapter 217: Learning the Steps
Chapter 216: Learning the Steps
Lyria’s POV
Lucian’s hand was warm around mine.
It was not uncomfortable.
He adjusted his position slightly, his other hand resting at my waist with the same careful lightness.
"First," he said, "the stance."
I waited.
"Your weight should be slightly forward," he continued. "Not on your heels. Do not lean into me either. Your weight needs to be balanced."
I shifted my weight, following his instructions.
"Better," he said. "Now hold your frame. Your arm should not collapse, but it should not be locked either. Imagine something between the two."
I tried.
It felt awkward. My arm hovered somewhere between rigid and loose, uncertain which it was meant to be.
Lucian did not correct me immediately. He simply waited.
"Try again," he said.
I adjusted.
"Good," he said with a nod. "Now we move."
He began to count.
"One. Two. Three."
I stepped on the first count. Closed on the second. Rose on the third.
It was not graceful. But I did not fall... at least.
"Again," he said.
"One. Two. Three."
Step. Close. Rise.
"Again."
Step. Close. Rise.
We continued like that for some time, moving slowly across the polished floor while he counted the rhythm aloud. The sunlight through the windows shifted around us, golden and warm, and somewhere in the distance I could hear the faint murmur of the palace going about its business.
We were separate from that. Here, in this room with its high ceilings and empty floors, there was only the dance.
"Now turn," Lucian said.
He shifted his weight. His hand at my waist guided me. His hand in mine directed me, and we turned, but I stumbled—thankfully, he caught me.
"Again," he said.
And we did it again; this time I did not stumble.
"Well done," he said. "Now we put it together."
He began to count again, faster now. Not hurried, but closer to the proper tempo of a waltz.
One-two-three. One-two-three.
We moved across the floor. Step, close, rise. Turn. Step, close, rise. Turn.
I would not deny that I found it quite difficult, even though I knew the steps.
"You are thinking too much," Lucian said.
"I am t-trying n-not to."
"That is the issue. Your head is filled with your attempt not to think, and that in itself is thinking," he said.
I pressed my lips together at that.
"Look at me," he said after a while.
I obeyed, lifting my gaze to his face.
His blue eyes were beautiful. At times, I felt as though all the beauty that came with his lineage had been bestowed upon him. His eyes, though, reminded me of Jacinta’s—but his were more vivid, more striking.
"Trust the rhythm," he said, a small smile upon his lips. "Do not count. Just feel it."
I tried, but it was difficult.
My body wished to anticipate, to prepare, to brace itself for the next step before the current one had finished.
"Stop thinking," he said again.
"I c-cannot simply stop—"
"Yes. You can."
He slowed our movement, nearly to a halt.
"Listen," he said.
I frowned, confused.
"T-to what?"
"To everything and nothing. Just listen—calm yourself and listen to the sounds, the movement, all of it," he said.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and listened. The only sound was our breathing, the call of birds in the distance, people moving through the palace, and the steady sound of my heartbeat.
"There is no music," he said softly, "but there is still a rhythm. Your heartbeat. My heartbeat. The space between our steps."
He began moving again, slow and gentle.
"Feel it," he said. "Let yourself feel everything."
I closed my eyes.
It was strange at first.
Step. Close. Rise.
Step. Close. Rise.
I stopped counting.
I stopped thinking.
I simply moved with him, choosing to feel the rhythm rather than trying to follow it.
When I opened my eyes again, we were at the far end of the room. I did not remember crossing the floor.
Lucian’s gaze was upon me.
"Better," he said.
I exhaled.
"That was..." I paused, searching for the word. "Strange."
"Good strange or bad strange?"
"I d-do not know yet."
He chuckled.
"That is fair."
He stepped back, releasing me.
I felt the loss of his hands immediately. The room seemed colder without them.
"Rest a moment," he said. "Then we shall try again."
I nodded.
I crossed to one of the chairs near the wall and sat down, smoothing my skirts. Lucian remained standing, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the windows.
"You learned quickly," he said.
"Did I?"
"You stopped thinking."
"I m-must admit it was rather d-difficult to do, b-but you t-told me to feel. The w-waltz is about t-that, and also trusting my p-partner, so I chose t-to do that."
"I did not expect you would learn it so quickly," he admitted. "I struggled with learning to dance when I was younger. It took a while before I could move as you do now."
"Really?" I asked.
"Yes. I know it is quite shocking, but I was opposed to dancing. I was of the opinion that it was meant for girls, and I would do everything I could to escape the lessons... though at some point, I simply grew up. I stopped running from them and chose to take them seriously instead."
I frowned.
"What b-brought the c-change?" I asked. "I d-don’t recall y-you being against l-learning to dance w-when we were younger."
I remembered he had taken lessons with Jacinta at one point, though I never stayed long enough to witness them properly. Perhaps if I had, I would not be struggling so much now.
Lucian was quiet for a moment. Then he took a seat beside me.
"I could lie and say I simply changed my mind," he said softly, his gaze fixed somewhere distant.
Then he turned and looked at me directly.
"But the truth is rather different. I did not simply change my mind and begin attending lessons in earnest. I did it because there was someone I wanted to impress."
