The Mask of Mirrors by M. Carrick; (different e readers txt) 📕

of her curls told Renata she had this in hand. “Now, would the altas like to talk fabrics and sleeve styles?”

Birthdays and brothers and fears of becoming a walking pincushion faded in the radiance of Giuna’s smile. She gripped Renata’s hand like she was trying to break bone. “Oh, yes!”

Isla Traementis, the Pearls: Apilun 2

“The sagnasse hold turns earthwise,” Parma insisted, casting off Leato’s hands and facing him with fists planted on her hips.

A muscle worked in Leato’s jaw, but he managed to keep his tone amiable. “I thought the sagnasse always turned sunwise.”

Parma’s tch sounded all the more exasperated when echoed back by the high walls of the Traementis ballroom. “Yes. Except in the gratzet, where it’s earthwise.”

Leato mimed the turn as Parma had described it. “But then I’m on the wrong foot.”

“That’s why you kip-step—”

“Do you think they’ll ever let us get around to dancing?” Giuna sighed to Renata and Sibiliat. They’d retreated to the chairs at the sidelines while the battle over technical details raged.

“If we don’t die of boredom first.” Sibiliat stretched, one arm coming down to rest lightly across Giuna’s shoulder. To Renata’s surprise, she’d claimed Giuna as her partner from the start of the practice session, leaving Parma partnering Leato, and Renata with Bondiro.

“Or stage a break like Bondiro did,” Renata said dryly. She wasn’t precisely sorry her partner had fled when this debate began; he’d been the opposite of helpful. The point of today was to teach her the dances popular in Nadežra—some of which originated in Seteris. Bondiro didn’t seem to know any of them, and she couldn’t fake her way through something her partner didn’t know, either.

“Coward,” Sibiliat muttered. “Abandoning us to Parma’s mercy.”

“She was harder on him than the rest of us,” Giuna said.

Twining her finger around one of Giuna’s curls, Sibiliat said, “Yes. But usually he likes that.”

Giuna was innocent enough that Sibiliat’s comment flew right past. Renata wondered what could possibly have drawn the Acrenix woman to her—unless Sibiliat simply enjoyed having an admirer she could dominate. Giuna’s infatuation was obvious, as was Sibiliat’s amused tolerance.

Having won the skirmish over the direction of the turn into hold, Parma clapped for their attention. “Shall we try again?”

Sibiliat stood, muttering under her breath, “Yes, Kaius Rex.”

“We’re odd numbers now, with Bondiro gone,” Giuna said. “I’ll sit out—”

“And abandon me? Nonsense, dearest.” Catching her hand, Sibiliat pulled her from her chair, spinning her—earthwise—into hold. “You’re made to sit out often enough.”

“But the point of this was to teach Renata—”

A creak of boards at the door alerted them to Colbrin’s entrance. The acoustics of the ballroom weren’t good enough for Renata to hear what he whispered in Leato’s ear, but Leato chuckled.

“Excellent. Send him in. Altas, our partnering problems are solved.”

A moment later, Colbrin ushered Captain Serrado into the room.

The hawk’s step faltered when he saw the group. “I… didn’t realize you had company, Altan Leato. I can return—”

Leato caught him before he could flee as Bondiro had. “No. We’re in dire need of you. Let’s see—you know the gratzet, right? Well, Parma can remind you.” Leato all but shoved Serrado into position in front of Parma, who eyed him with speculative appreciation despite him being Vraszenian, then took up his own post opposite Renata.

She caught the look Serrado fired at Leato. Mixed annoyance and impatience—the look of a man who had come on business and didn’t want to delay it for frivolity. But what business?

Nothing to do with me, Renata thought, half in prayer. Serrado had to be wondering why Donaia hadn’t given her the boot, but it was Leato he wanted to talk to, not Era Traementis. And if his information was some new dirt on her, he was hiding it well. She seemed to be of no more interest to him than Sibiliat—or one of the chairs.

Parma gave the count for the harpist in the corner. He set finger to string, and they swayed into motion.

Leato was a much better lead than Bondiro. He kept his frame strong, yet flexible enough for Renata to feel the shifts in his weight. In a way, dancing was like fighting; all her attention was on her body and his, responding to cues before her conscious mind could identify them. The challenge was exhilarating, and intimate—and left her absolutely no attention to spare for conversation.

A problem Leato didn’t seem to share. “How goes the advocacy? I heard you’ve met with a number of people.” They broke apart to cast to the bottom of the set, giving Renata a moment to string together her answer.

“I think I’m being run in circles,” she said with a light laugh, aware of Sibiliat barely an arm’s length away. So far her attempt to fulfill Quientis’s request hadn’t taken her to House Acrenix, but that might change. And even if it didn’t, Sibiliat’s father, Ghiscolo, might decide there was profit in getting involved.

“And here we’re making you spend your Andusny doing more of the same,” he said, just in time for the lot of them to clasp hands and circle the center in an inward Sessat. Then came the much-debated sagnasse turn. Passing back-to-back with Serrado, Renata was blessed with the singular joy of hearing him grunt when he started to turn the wrong way and was forcibly corrected by Parma.

Unfortunately, the following promenade realigned the dance, leaving her paired with Serrado. Renata fell silent, hoping his dislike would excuse her from having to talk—and that she could blame any mistakes she made on him.

No such luck.

“Alta Parma informs me that we’re dancing for your instruction,” Serrado said. His frame and lead were no worse than Leato’s, but they lacked the distracting intimacy. “You didn’t learn these in Seteris?”

“Some, yes. But there are differences, and I would hate to step on my partner’s toes because I turned sunwise instead of earthwise.”

Speaking was a mistake. She missed her cue and stepped forward when she was meant to retreat, colliding with Serrado’s chest. She