Dark Dance

The midnight dances began when I was fourteen. A voice soaked in sugar and champagne stirred my sisters and I out of a deep sleep, beckoning us through a hidden door in our chambers that even we had never known about before. So drunk were we on the wondrous strangeness of it, the romanticism of slipping through the night like silver shadows, that we never even once stopped to ponder the dangers of voices whispering from the dark. We always passed through three secret woods: the first was rich and green, the second was all glitter and gold, and the final was silver and bright. This wood was my favorite, all crystal and ice. Then we would reach the deep cerulean lake, and board the small boats that waited for us on the shore. We would sit, entranced and breathless, as we reached the gazebo draped with roses and ivy. They were always waiting there for us. The twelve handsome princes. They would help us from the boats with smiles and warm eyes and lead us into the glittering ballroom. We waltzed and glided across the marble floor all night long, returning to our chambers in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was just raising its sleepy golden head over the edge of the world.

Our father, King Amos, was perplexed by our worn out pairs of fine shoes. He would demand to know what we had been doing all night.

"Nothing, Father," we would murmur innocently. "We were sleeping all night."

Finally, after two years had passed, King Amos decreed that any man who could solve the mystery of our ruined shoes could choose any of us to wed. Each man was given one week to accomplish this. Knights, lords, and princes flocked from near and far to try and uncover the truth. None succeeded. Some left after the seventh day, heads hung in defeat. Others mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again.

Our cherished secret was safe.

Until Sam Embry arrived. Sam was a soldier in the King's Fleet until he was wounded rescuing a fellow soldier. He was honorably discharged and given a large compensation for his brave service. Having no home to return to, Sam wandered the countries aimlessly. He heard the tale of the princesses with the strange shoes, and came to the castle to speak with the king. Our father was surprised and slightly amused to see a soldier born of peasant blood standing before him in the Great Hall, pledging to find the truth of his daughters' ruined shoes. But the decree had stated any man, and King Amos had a healthy respect for soldiers, so he agreed.

And that's when the trouble really began.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? Let me start from the beginning...

****

I still remember the day that Sam arrived. I was hiding in the garden, trying to avoid my classes for the day. I was the youngest of twelve girls; only sixteen years old. I had no desire to learn about potions to keep my skin soft, or how to properly program the computer to modify my diet accordingly. I wouldn't even be a princess if it were up to me. I wanted nothing more than to be a Dragon Rider in the King's Fleet. It was the highest honor you could achieve in the military. In the world, as far as I was concerned. Ever since an ancient dragon's egg had been found several centuries before, the world had undergone dramatic changes. The discovery of dragons and all their powers radically changed technology, medicine, military strategy, everything. Old governments collapsed, and new ones emerged; strange combinations of ancient and modern ideals and rules.

Our own country of Leenthor was particularly famous for breeding dragons for the Fleet. I spent much of my free time in the stables, helping the hands tend to the pregnant mothers and newborns. I begged my father several times to let me keep one of the runts, but he insisted that a princess had no need for a dragon. I did, however, have a pet Caras. The giant animals were one of the many products of genetic tampering. They were a combination of a wolf and a tiger. Caras were a peculiar blend of canine and feline. I had found the injured baby and brought it home. He bonded with me and refused to leave my side. Even my hard-headed father dared not quarrel with a Caras. I named him Cyrus.

I was trying to convince Cyrus to eat a carrot when Latasha found me. She was Father's second wife.

"Leila," she scolded me. "You'd best get back inside. Queen Darra is looking for you."

I heaved a melodramatic sigh and tossed my carrots aside. It was lunch time. Which meant it was time for etiquette lessons. I marched through the heavy doors with Cyrus on my heels, pushing my ash blond curls out of my face and surveying my sisters with sullen silver-flecked lavender eyes.

"You're late," Lady Bernadette said with a sniff. I ignored her and flopped into a seat at the end of the table, next to Savannah; the eleventh daughter. We always sat lined up from eldest to youngest. My eyes flicked down the line. First there was Judith; the eldest. Then followed the twins Marlaina and Margaret, Priscilla, Roselyn, Adelaide, Terra, Branna, Penny, Christina, Savannah, and then, of course, me. Queen Darra and our father's three other wives; Latasha, Bernadette, and Cleo, sat on the other side of the table. Darra was the king's first wife; giving her the official title of Queen.

The sheer number of bodies in the room made lunch a spectacle. The amount of feminine rivalry and propriety made it suffocating. Cyrus laid down in front of the stone fireplace, watching us all with a bored sort of resignation. I shared his feelings. I listened to Mother primly remind us to sit up straight, never slurp, never place our elbows on the table. I could feel a migraine beginning to pound at my temples. Savannah nudged me, her pale green eyes twinkling in her lightly freckled face. Her dark auburn hair was pulled back so she didn't need to fear it falling into her food. My own fine, silvery curls never stayed tame long enough to properly do my hair up. I dramatically mimed the queen's instructions, complete with silly faces and Savannah bit back a giggle.

I saw Bernadette frown our way, but before she could scold us, the doors flew open and Father strode brusquely into the room.

"We have a new contender for this shoe nonsense," he boomed out. We craned our necks to see the man behind him. I'm not usually one for fawning over men or flirting or any of that, but I admit, the sight of the young man that was trailing after Father made my heart flutter. He was a head taller than me, with striking dark green eyes, tanned skin, and black hair that was in need of a cut. There was a slight stubble on his chin and cheeks, and it made him look rugged and roguish, and I watched him intently. He had a faint limp in his left leg.

"This is Sam Embry," Father continued. "He was a soldier in the Fleet for several years. He will be staying with us for a week, as all the others have. I trust you will make him feel welcome." We demurely said hello. He nodded and greeted us politely, his voice deep and warm as chocolate. After lunch was over, my sisters and I returned to our chambers.

"A soldier," Priscilla scoffed. "If all those high-born knights and princes couldn't figure out our secret, we're certainly safe from a peasant soldier."

We all dismissed him as we had the others; there was no way the young man would be able to uncover what countless others had failed to find.

But oh, my sisters and I greatly underestimated the handsome soldier. He had a few secrets of his own.