The Essence
Page 64

I didn’t know when she’d found the time to get herself ready, but she had, and now she looked as polished as any of the women who’d been raised as courtiers. As lovely as any queen.
“Wow, Brook, if I’d’ve seen that gown,” I teased as I reached for her gloved hand, leaning on her while I slipped off one of my glittered shoes and massaged my foot. Already my toes felt pinched in the tiny slippers.
“You wouldn’t have worn it,” she answered with a sideways grin, winking at Zafir. “It’s too revealing.”
She was right, of course. The black corset-style top barely covered her chest, plunging deeply down the center of her br**sts. And of the two of us, she was the one who had a chest in need of being covered. Black beads, which dangled from her neck, fell into the exposed valley of skin.
“You know, for such a tall woman, Queen Neva has impossibly small feet. How she walks in these is anyone’s guess,” I said, putting the shoe back on.
When we reached the party, I nearly gasped aloud, and I was certain that Brooklynn did.
I’d never been to a circus before, but even children born in Ludania—where circuses had been outlawed years earlier because they were populated by outcasts—knew what they were.
I was aware the moment I stepped through the open doorway to the ballroom: This was no ordinary dance. . . . It was an event.
It was a dark spectacle, complete with glittered jesters and maudlin clowns wearing painted tears. There were ladies riding one-wheeled cycles who wore the snow-white tulle of dancers paired with whimsical striped socks. Overhead, I saw a thick cable extending from one side of the ballroom to the other, on which a woman in a short dress made from inky feathers and carrying a black lace umbrella with fringe that tickled her alabaster shoulders carefully glided. Toe over toe she moved, graceful and unflinching, from one end to the other. All around us there were musicians and animals—some caged and some not—and billowing fabrics that hung from the ceiling to the floor in stripes of gold and ruby and sapphire and silver.
I smiled at a trio of small girls whose faces were painted to match the animals behind bars. Each girl carried a tray with a different candied treat: sugared fruits, iced cakes, and petite chocolate bowls filled with puddings of various colors, each with a miniature silver spoon.
“No. Thank you,” I said, feeling a stab of sadness that Angelina couldn’t be here to witness the marvel of it all.
“Wow.” I breathed as I caught sight of the flags, all hanging side by side on one wall, representing each of the queens in attendance. The white flag of Ludania was at its very center.
Standing beneath the impressive display, I saw Aron, talking with Avonlea and Sebastian.
“Oh, hell,” Brooklynn muttered, as I dragged her in their direction.
I saw immediately what she was complaining about, and understood completely. Of all the gowns she could’ve worn, the one Brook had chosen was so similar to Avonlea’s that it was hard to imagine they weren’t meant to be part of a matching set. The only difference was, Brooklynn filled hers out in ways Avonlea never would.
“Is this some kind of joke?” she whispered, digging her heels in at the last second.
I tugged harder. “Come on, I think it’s kind of cute. You two could be one of the acts; you could be twins who juggle or something.” I glanced in the direction of a real juggler who threw daggers in the air and caught each one of them in turn. The handles of his knives were bejeweled and the blades were razor sharp.
“Thanks for that,” Brook grumbled just as we reached our friends.
Aron whistled when he saw me, drawing the attention of a sharp-faced woman who stood nearby. Her long, wild hair seemed to blend into the thick fur of her coat, making her look like a shaggy black bear. Her intense brown gaze did nothing to assuage that initial impression. Behind her, perched on a pedestal, a white peacock with its colorless plumes draping all the way to the floor ruffled its feathers uninterestedly.
“You look”—he grinned, his words directed at me, but his gaze finding Brooklynn beside me—“beautiful,” he said at last.
I glanced at Brook, and wondered if she’d heard what I had in his voice, but she seemed not to have noticed.
“You do,” she agreed. “You made the right call.”
I peered down at the gilded red dress, sheer in places that made me feel far too exposed.
“I think he was talking to you,” I said quietly, realizing that Aron wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Brooklynn. Sebastian was watching her as well.
Close up, there was almost nothing alike about the two girls—Brook and Avonlea—save the cut of their black gowns. Despite the similarities in their dresses, Brook stood out like no other.
Black curls fell free from the glittering pins that tried to hold her hair up, strategically framing the soft brown of her skin. Her dark eyes alternately reflected electric sparks of enthusiasm, burning embarrassment, and flashes of frustration, since Brooklynn could no more hide her emotions than she could pretend they didn’t exist.
Avonlea was plain by comparison. We all were.
Brook elbowed me. “Shut up,” she said, the corner of her lip moving upward, and there was no doubt she knew it too. Everyone had noticed her.
Everyone but Niko.
I’d seen him the moment I entered the ballroom. He was impossible to miss, and Sabara had reacted instantaneously, flooding me with hope and anticipation.
I ignored him the best I could. Ignored Sabara too.