Page 92 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
“No, you don’t get it.” Venom churned in her stomach—eating away her insides. “There is no time. I cannot wash up and get there on time.”
Emrys’s eyes lit up with pleasure, and a wicked smile played on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you some time.”
“How?”
“I am the Playboy Prince. I was made to be a distraction.”
Thirty-One
Quinn tiptoed through the studio door ten minutes late with soaking hair and a pristine tutu to find Emrys “entertaining” the room. He was having the male dancers teach him spins and jumps as the Royalle Ballet director glowered on. Shockingly, he had quite a lot of technique.
Did they teach heirs to the throne ballet at Castle Hill? Or had he learned to dance at some point in his long vampiric life?
Quinn walked to the side of the room as silently as possible, dropped off her pack, quickly slipped into her pointe shoes, and tied her ribbons around her legs.
“Are you okay?” Constance whispered. The girl was an empath and always knew when Quinn was upset.
“Yes, I am fine,” she lied.
“Why is your hair wet?” Constance asked, her amused eyes fixed on Emrys doing a pirouette à la seconde.
“I received a lovely present filled with blood and threats that exploded all over my face.”
“What?” Constance said far too loudly, causing the ballet director and the surrounding dancers to stare at them. Emrys paused his dancing, a look of triumph lacing his face. “Fuck, Quinn. Again?”Constance whispered.
“Yes, this time they’re threatening you and Giselle and Jevon,” Quinn murmured, her voice like the shattered blood glass.
Constance reached out a steady hand and comforted her friend. “We’re going to be alright. I promise.”
Emrys clapped, drawing attention back to himself. He embodied his role as a narcissist, needing all the limelight. “Well, thank you so much for your amazing instruction. I’d like to watch the auditions, if you would please.” He waved his arm dismissively as if they were all his subjects and would all do his bidding.
It was an act, and perhaps it always had been.
Auditions continued as planned—almost. The director was supposed to observe their class for one week and then decide who would join the Queen’s Royalle Ballet. With Jane’s death, two of those days were postponed.
Today was another group number fromMidwinter, the famous ballet always performed at the heart of the holiday season. Quinn danced the Waltz of Snowflakes, a dance normally performed on the stage as fake snow fell from the ceiling, causing the floor to become slick and lose all its friction.
As Quinn jumped a soubresaunt, she imagined what it would be like to do that move on a slippery floor. It would be a tough move to pull off, which is why the Royalle Ballet only took the best dancers as apprentices.
The dance flew by quickly. At the end of the number, all the snowflakes fell to the floor in a heap. Quinn executed the movement perfectly, nailed all the moves in the dance, and even managed a tinge of emotion.
Slowly peeling herself off the floor, Quinn made her way to Constance, who had a glorious smile on her face. “That was incredible!”
“Thanks.” Quinn tried to breathe, her lungs tight and stinging.
“Truly, if they don’t pick you after that, it will be blasphemy, and we shall all revolt.” Constance rolled onto her stomach and stretched her quadriceps.
Quinn held her toes and stretched her calves as Emrys approached. “That was great.”
“Thank you.”
“Would you like me to escort you back to the lab?” Emrys asked, holding out a hand.
Quinn didn’t take it. Instead, she forced a smile. He was being so kind and helpful, but she needed space, fresh air, and to be able to breathe again. “Thank you for your offer, but I would prefer to be alone.” From his concerned expression, she added, “For now.”
He bowed his head in respect. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Clutching her ballet bag, Quinn strode out into the crisp night air, trying to walk off the emotions that clung to her core. Movement always helped clear her head. So she simply walked and walked and walked, the icy wind her only companion as the sun drifted off to sleep and the fifth night of the Blood Festival awoke.
