Page 19 of Grave Flowers
Only one person met my gaze. It was a young man, and he glanced behind himself as though thinking I was looking at someone else. When he realized it was indeed him, he approached.
“Are you well, Your Highness?” he asked. “Do you need anything?”
His shoulders slouched forward slightly as though he were leaning over to inspect something interesting. Despite his loose posture, his attire was striking. It was black, fitted closely to his lanky frame, with lace trim at the neck and sleeves, which ended at the armpit, revealing his arms. In the corner of either eye was a tiny teardrop inked beneath his skin. One teardrop was oriented up, and the other was oriented down. He wore gloves also trimmed in lace. I’d never seen someone have bare arms and covered hands. The only deviation from the color scheme was a gold pin fixed to his collar. It depicted a laughing face with weeping eyes. I knew what he was from the teardrops and the pin: a jester. Every court had them, including ours. Only our jester was so terrified of getting on Father’s bad side that all his jokes were simply outrageous compliments about Father’s attractiveness, beneficence, and wisdom.
“I am,” I said. I made myself smile in a way that I hoped seemed genuine. Jesters could be powerful. They oftentimes doubled as advisors, observing court closely for fodder from which they crafted their witticisms. “And your name is?”
“Yorick, Your Highness.”
“Tell me, Yorick, are the parties always this … lively?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “Ever since Prince Aeric returned to court, there have been parties instead of councils. Makes it quite hard if you prefer the company of books to people. I always can’t wait until these things are over and I’m in bed with a book and a piece of toast.”
“I must admit, there’s nothing like taking off my slippers after a night of dancing. I’d planned to dance tonight, but I’m not certain I wish to dance with His Royal Highness.” I spoke carefully, watching Yorick closely to see if he was offended at my insult of his monarch. However, he nodded enthusiastically, as though entirely in agreement.
“Prince Aeric is never far from a wine bottle. Which is bold. I could never because I don’t want wine face when I’m older. I’m too vain. If you’d like to dance, Your Highness, you can dance with me.”
“Can I?” I took Yorick in sharply. His eyes glittered between his lids, which were powdered black. He could be trying to get me to embarrass myself, to make Aeric jealous, or to advance some other private agenda I didn’t know. But if I were dancing, Aeric couldn’t forget about me, and neither could anyone else. It would be a strong message to dance with someone other than my intended on my first night here, the perfect follow-up to firing Decima. I glanced across the party, trying to see where Aeric was. I spotted him quickly, as though now that I knew which face was his, my eyes could find no other. He was dancing—with four other young men. All five of them lurched side to side, terribly out of beat, in the sort of way I’d seen young men do after a successful hunt or wrestling match. “Aren’t you worried you might offend the prince?”
“Not at all.” An amused smile played at Yorick’s lips, as though he found something funny.
“Not at all?”
“Prince Aeric would be jealous only if I were attracted to you.”
“You aren’t?” I was taken aback. “I think I look particularly ravishing tonight.”
“Oh, you are. I can’t deny it any more than I could deny the beauty of the stars. But men, women, romance … that’s not what interests me right now. I’m the safest person you could dance with tonight. You might as well be dancing with no one.”
I weighed his words. Most men looked at me like a meal to devour, their wet lips seeking to trail along my neck and their fumbling fingers struggling to find my corset strings. I was as practiced at drawing out their desires as I was at spinning into a dip at the end of a dance. But there was no hunger in Yorick’s stare. He regarded me as a brother might. It was refreshing to be seen as another human, nothing more and nothing less.
“Very well.” Before I could lose my nerve, I rose and descended the dais. Yorick followed. I refused to weave my way through the room andfollowed a straight line to the dancing, clearing my throat whenever a drunken guest didn’t move until we reached the dance floor.
Couples whirled. Each one did their own type of dance, some going half time to the music, some going double. Even the glass figurine dancers overhead spun at different speeds. I snuck one last look at Aeric. He was still surrounded by his friends. TheKingwas even more visible as he cast his head back to laugh, shoulders arching and chest widening with breath. Determinedly, I held out a hand to Yorick. He took it. The lace on his gloves tickled my palm. He swept in front of me and pulled me out into the fray. For a moment, everything was blurry. The skirts of other women flapped against mine and tugged me along in a current of silk, taffeta, and chiffon. Shoulders brushed me, and voices rang out in apology, a few of which sounded annoyed and not in any way remorseful.
I closed my eyes and thought of one of the places I hated most of all.
The ballroom back home.
I saw it at half-light, torn between thoughts of my excruciating dance lessons with Rigby and my nights spent dancing until the early morning with different men. My feet were often afire as infected blisters rubbed against the sides of my slippers. Those same feet, though, also glided across the marble as if gravity didn’t exist and I might fly away if I spun fast enough. The two memories fed into each other, the first full of pain and the second full of power. I let it build until they swelled over me.
Then I let them take me away.
I chose a dance that paired with the music and highlighted only one partner: me. Different parts featured me circling this way or dipping another, separate from Yorick, who congenially followed along. My huge skirts spread out like red tongues of flame. As I spun, pins flew loose from Sindony’s hopeless attempts at a bun. My hair spilled across my shoulders and down my back. I went faster and faster, and I didn’t miss a step. Every note trilling through the ballroom was mine to snatchand use in a way no one else could. I took each one and contoured them to my body so there was no distinction between my movements and the music. The other couples slowed and stopped and then retreated to the edge of the dance floor until only I, Yorick, and the glass figurines danced.
No one ignored me now.
No one would, not after this. Tomorrow, everyone would be talking about the Radixan princess, and it was just what I wanted.
From behind me, a hand caught my wrist.
Yorick?
No, he was wearing gloves—
My heart leaped in a scintillating moment of triumph. Was it Aeric? Had I bewitched him enough to come dance with me and catch my hand?
I spun to him.
