Equilibrium

A Final Dance

Larke, 1182

We entered the palace and were swiftly directed to the grand ballroom by servants whose job was only that. There were even more servants that waited by the entrance, taking everyone's coats and stowing them. I had handed them my luxurious fur stole, reluctantly, and Dean gave them his overcoat. Quiet and polite, they stored them for us to retrieve when we left. I told myself I could recover the stole at any time after resuming as High Suryan Premiere, but I doubted I'd have the chance to wear it again. I'd grown quite attached to its furry comfort in the short time I'd worn it.

Arm in arm, we promenaded with the crowd, not making any pauses for small talk, unlike everyone else. I noted the heavily armed guards lining the perimeter. Most were standard infantrymen, but a few Suryan recruits mingled within their ranks. The recruits, mere children, stood stiff and nervous, unlike the guards, who just looked bored. I noticed that some of the guards wore a different armor than the usual royal garb. Perhaps the King was supplementing his defenses with hired hands. It wasn't unheard of to do so, but it usually wasn't necessary. Why expend the extra resources on hiring men if you had your own already?

The grand ballroom was well lit, a vast expanse of marble floor, with couples dancing in the center to a tune woven by a small string quartet. They were playing a slow, Thiolish waltz, typical of a formal dance like this. The dancers moved in unison, spinning and twirling in the stiff ballroom dancing poses.

At the back of the hall on a slight dais was the elegant resting table where the royal family sat. It was largely unoccupied, though I immediately saw princess Nya, bored, sitting in her seat to the King's left. She was the only one there, aside from a lady in waiting, who looked eager to join the dancing, but unwilling to leave the Princess. She was probably assigned to chaperone Nya, who was often a source of mischief.

I suppressed a grin, recalling certain trouble she and I used to get into at parties like this. Once, we had replaced a basket of bread with a basket of trapped frogs. We had spent weeks collecting those poor amphibians, keeping them alive by feeding them the crickets we could gather, just so we could release them during Nya's birthday gathering. We had been such children, behaving so, but I missed those simpler days.

We meandered around the ballroom, taking in as much as we could. I already knew the layout of the ballroom, and the surrounding rooms, though Dean was likely memorizing an escape route and who knew what else. I went through the motions, pretending to search, but really, there was nothing for me to gain. I was leaving soon, anyway.

The song, the traditional Thiolish waltz, had stopped, and another one began. This one was a number that apparently didn't have a choreographed routine, so more couples joined in, simply enjoying the melody and each other's company. I looked at Dean, one eyebrow raised, posing the question.

"Would you like to dance?" I asked, extending my hand out so that he could take it. "We could explore the dance floor discreetly."

"If you insist," he responded, his expression stony as he took my hand.

He had been stiff and tense as soon as we'd entered through the palace gates, but he softened a little as we assumed the ballroom stance. His hand was on my waist, his other supporting mine in the air, our chests open and upper backs tilted backwards. Looking around, we did slow circles about the dance floor, surveying the entire room. I caught Princess Nya watching me more than once. She looked a vision – her dark blonde hair curled and perfectly coiffed into an immaculate updo, her graceful, slim figure wrapped in a deep blue dress that clung tight to her body, widening slightly at the knees. She was watching me carefully as I danced, and I made sure to not make eye contact. It would make Dean suspicious; I was sure.