Page 61 of Ties of Dust

“It’s not a useful trick. But it feels like how dancingshouldfeel. At least, I don’t know how else to say it.”

“You said it perfectly. And you dance beautifully.”

He was aware that his voice was too low and intense, and also that he should have released her by now. But his hand was refusing to draw back from its position around her waist, or to unclasp the fingers still tangledthrough hers. She wasn’t pulling back either, her form sagging a little, most likely worn out by the exertion of the magic as much as the physical effort of so much dancing. The energy cost of wielding magic was a chief reason so few people pursued excellence in the craft. It required a type of physical and mental strength that was very different from the strength of hand-to-hand combat. And Flora had it in spades.

“Thank you,” Flora said. “For all of it, I mean.” She looked around, breaking their moment of intimate focus. “I know you’ll pay a price for lowering yourself to dance with a guard.”

His grip tightened, but she wasn’t done.

“But I confess I was glad to not feel like a guard for a while. I enjoyed feeling like…well, like a princess.” She sounded surprised at her own words, but they were apt, in Cassius’s opinion.

You are like a princess.He didn’t say the words aloud. Instead he released her waist, keeping hold of her hand as he led her away from the dancers who were starting up for the next song.

“There is no price that I regard,” he told her instead. “If anything, I should be thanking you. Believe me, that was the first dance I’ve actually enjoyed all evening.”

She gave him a crooked grin as they neared a table. “Magic does enhance the experience, doesn’t it?”

It was on the tip of Cassius’s tongue to say that it wasn’t the magic, it was her, but he never uttered the words. Flora’s gaze flew over his shoulder, and she withdrew her hand from his. Before he knew what was happening, she’d taken a step forward and seized her skirts in both fists.

Quick as lightning, she swept the fabricviolently from side to side, her eyes narrowed in concentration as Cassius spun around in response to gasps from behind him.

He blinked at the sight of a tall cake stand—made of metal and towering above his head—resting at an impossible angle, its edge inches from Cassius’s face. By the time Cassius grasped that Flora had used another cushioning enchantment to prevent it from falling onto the back of his head, two serving men had hurried forward to stabilize it.

As soon as they had hold of it, Flora stopped moving. Her cushioning enchantment disappeared, and a number of small cakes tumbled onto Cassius before hitting the floor, as the serving men pushed the stand upright.

“Are you unharmed?” Flora asked the question with concern in her eyes, in spite of the fact that her form now drooped visibly.

“I’m fine,” Cassius said quickly, waving off the sputtering apology of the clumsy serving girl who’d knocked the tower with the same unconcern with which he was brushing crumbs from his clothes. “You’ve overdone it, haven’t you, Flora? You look exhausted.”

“I didn’t channel the ideal amount of the power to my own energy,” she acknowledged, relaxing as she saw that he was unhurt. “But I can’t have you being crushed by a metal cake stand on my watch, can I? I’m still your bodyguard, remember.”

Cassius gave her a look, silently calling out the exaggerated use of the wordcrushed. But his attention was claimed by others before he could speak—his guards and the head server had arrived, and all looked intent on making a much bigger fuss than the minor incident called for.

As Cassius reassured everyone involved that there was no cause for concern or further apologies, Flora moved away a short distance. It made little difference—herpresence was seared in his awareness, his mind tied to her every movement. The tether had never felt more tangible.

Clearly it wasn’t obvious to those around him how attuned he was to her, because the trio of courtiers standing just beside Flora spoke with all the confidence of believing themselves unobserved.

“Did I hear her say she’s still his bodyguard?” The words, issued in a tone of scorn and accompanied by a nasty titter, were obviously intended for Flora’s ears, even if not addressed to her. “Does she expect people to believe that?”

“Bodyguard, pah,” another chimed in. “I could find a less discreet word for it.”

Anger stirred in Cassius, and he turned his head to look at Flora. She was staring stoically ahead, her mask back up as she scanned the area like an actual bodyguard would.

“There is nothing more embarrassing than a servant—of any kind—not knowing her place,” a third courtier chimed in, this one a man. “Do you think she hopes to be accepted as a legitimate guest? I wonder she keeps her position after so brazenly arriving on duty dressed likethat.”

His tone would make anyone think Flora was prancing around in her undergarments instead of swathed in material from head to toe. Wearing something becoming was its own offense in the eyes of the jealous.

“No one would confuse her with a legitimate guest,” one of the women retorted. “Not when she conducts herself with so little dignity.”

Cassius had heard enough. He strode away from the still-apologizing head server, his frame quivering with anger as he approached Flora. The fact that she was taking the undeserved insults with silent grace only made theoffense worse. She’d been put through so much through no fault of her own, and for anyone to accuse her of a lack of dignity was outrageously unjust. He longed to tell the trio of courtiers what he really thought of their manners.

“Thank you for your intervention,” he told Flora instead, his voice carrying. “I’m grateful that you attended tonight as I requested.” His eyes passed over her shoulder to settle on the trio of listening courtiers. “To elevate the company.”

Flora shifted, and looking back at her, he saw that her shoulders had tightened, tension written on the line of her jaw. She was weary, and she wasn’t hiding it as well as she thought.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re leaving.”

She frowned in confusion. “Already? It’s not necessary to leave your own ball on my account, Your Highness.”

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