Page 40 of A Dance of Water

You are the most beautiful thing to ever grace the sight of each of these beasts, pet. They don’t deserve to look upon you.

She found Bastian’s gaze—he was already staring at her.

And you do?She couldn’t help but shoot back.

His lips tipped into a half-smile, and he elbowed Graves, who had tugged his cowl up on his face, his hood back over his hair. Shehad been so wrapped up in nerves that she had not noticed him donning his armor of shadows.

The female by her side was plump and soft with golden ringlets and a face bare of rouge. Luella tried to get her attention.

"What’s going on?" she hissed through her teeth. "Why are we here?"

She felt the brush of invisible fingertips against her mind.Stop talking.

The female would not look at her, her eyes were downcast and hands folded demurely before her, but Luella could sense a hopeful excitement in her—evident from how her mouth curled into a smile and the way she kept biting her lower lip to remain composed.

Perhaps it was not bad if these females didn’t appear afraid, only excited…

The low hush of the crowd grew silent, so quiet she could hear footsteps. Heavy booted feet against the icy floor.

And the Prima strode toward the center of the room.

Tharen caught her eye before quickly looking away. He was dressed regally, but all the silks and pomp in the realms could not contain his wildness. His icy blue eyes and white hair matched the aura of the room, and he wore a golden shirt laced with blue. His pants were a fine black weave, impeccable. She was surprised to see he wore his well-loved, dirtied boots, the soles scrubbed carelessly to rid them of the dirt, but she spied the faintest traces on the heels, spots that he had missed.

The Prima faced the crowd, his back to the females. "We are gathered here today for the reigning King of Serpentis to select his Chosen. The Chosen will be bound to the King and stand as an icon to be venerated for the duration of the Winter Solstice celebrations." He raised his arms, white sparks of magic teeming at his fingertips, and the crowd swept back, pressing close to the walls as if they knew something she did not. Luella did not have time to think on Tharen’s words, for he proclaimed, "Let us begin," and the glass dome above shattered.

The skylight broke, raining down in a sharp, jagged threat. Luella was the only one to make a yelp of fear, ducking with her hands covering her head.

Stand,Bastian urged.Quickly.

She took a few breaths of fearful anticipation and then straightened, her hands trembling as she forced them back to her sides.

The shattered glass froze in midair.

The Prima’s hands rose, palms up, as he faced the crowd, head tipped back as he stared up at the collection of glass, poised to fall and cut them all. Magic sparked at the tips of his tanned fingers, and in the mere space of time between one breath and the next, the glass turned to…water.

Sprinkles of water fell from the sky, only a few droplets reaching the crowd of watching revelers before undergoing yet another transformation.

Snow.

Snow softly cascaded down from the now-open space where the skylight once stood. All at the behest of the Prima.

Luella’s head tipped back, uncaring that Bastian hissed a warning in her mind and the other females by her sides kept their heads bowed with reverence. She watched, awed at the sight of the snow sprinkling down and dusting the ice-coated floors and settling atop the tip of her upturned nose and disappearing in the white of her hair.

She was so mesmerized by the sight that she nearly missed how the crowd went wild and then became silent. The thunderous boom of dragon wings beat throughout the snowy night, and she saw a shadow overhead through the open space of the skylight, a blot of large darkness against the blanket of white of the snow-filled clouds.

The dragon’s wings tucked closely to his body, and he swooped down. Right toward the open hole in the ceiling.

Snow continued to fall, and she took the tiniest of steps backward as the dragon’s wings snapped out right before he descended upon the throne room, allowing his high speed to slow and granting him a graceful entry to the throne room.

His wings beat and beat, and her hair blew back from her face from the wind created by the powerful strokes.

Her heart was a matching rhythm to the beat of his wings, and then he stopped, talon-tipped feet clicking loudly against the floorsas his wings unfurled behind him, the tips nearly brushing each side of the walls from how utterly large he was.

The females remained quiet and dutiful, but Luella wanted to flee. Her fingers gripped the fabric of her silken gown, and as she looked at each female waiting silently with heads bowed, wrapped up in white, she realized…

They weresacrifices.

Shewas a sacrifice.

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