Chapter 8
J essalyn hadn't been lying about our dorm. Each muse had been given their private chambers, and they were comfortable but still had the flourishes of grandeur expected from a royal property. My room was bright and airy, and the light linens were all warm earth tones. Thick drapes framed the large window for privacy and to block out the intense desert sun.
Unfortunately, I quickly learned that I would spend hardly any time in my room. Since the Ashoralida called for multiple elaborate performances over three days, we had two weeks to rehearse in the Sudamon palace ballroom, and we had to make the most of it.
I had only just hung up the clothing I'd packed in the wardrobe when Jessalyn fetched me for a fitting. For a muse, each festival required different custom attire. Talented garment makers had them mostly complete by the time we arrived because two weeks wasn't nearly enough time to make exquisite gowns, rompers, and pantsuits that could hold up to three intensive performances.
I was whisked down to a dressing room, where a rather short man and a very tall woman flitted about me, taking measurements and poking me with pins. My dress was too small in the middle, which wasn't uncommon since I was on the thicker side for a muse. I couldn't do a proper fitting that day, but the designers assured me it would be perfect when Ashoralida began.
Then, I was immediately pushed out the door and down to the ballroom to begin our first rehearsal. There was a lot of choreography to go over – both dancing and magickal – and Soren wanted to get right down to it.
All the muses took their places in a circle, and Soren stood in the center. For the first rehearsals, he wouldn't sing. Instead, he spoke directions out loud and conducted with his hands in quick, sinuous movements. His words were instructions for our steps, and his hands were for our magik.
We had only been practicing for a few minutes when he snapped, “Isadore Dellamousa! Shoulders back and focus on your hands.”
That would be the first of many, many times he called out my name during rehearsal. Reminders to keep my chin up, my movements smooth, concentrate on my breathing, focus on my steps, and, most of all, to shine my light.
“ Light , Isadore!” Soren shouted. “Let it go! Make it bright!”
Finally, in frustration, I snapped, “I am! I can’t go any brighter!”
He scowled at me and shook his head, and I was suddenly filled with the most profound regret—not only for talking back but also because I couldn't go any brighter. I was giving it all I had, and where his dark eyes once held a curious respect for me, I only saw disappointment.
“Perhaps we should take a break,” Jessalyn interjected. “We’re all tired, and it’s only day one.”
Soren stared at me a moment longer, and all I wanted to do was wither up under the weight of his gaze. When he finally looked away from me, I let out a shaky breath.
"Fine, rest up tonight," he said. "We start tomorrow at dawn and will give it our all."
With that, he turned and stalked out of the ballroom, and I feared that I might throw up.
"The first day is always rough," Jessalyn assured me warmly. "Not just for us, but for the enchanters too. Giving each other a little grace is good, and I know you'll do better tomorrow."
"Thank you," I mumbled, but I didn't feel as confident as her.
She invited me to have dinner with her and some other muses down in the markets outside the palace grounds, but I declined because I didn't want to waste any time or energy. Not when I was struggling so much. I opted for a quick meal in the kitchen and went out to the dormitory courtyard.
The courtyard's centerpiece was an octagonal reflecting pool, which provided a cool breeze. Cacti and pink desert flowers added color to the landscape in garden beds along the walls. At one end of the courtyard, there was a comfortable seating area under a pergola, and at the other end, there was an open patio of smooth stone.
The open space attracted me to the area because it had enough room for me to practice. I hadn't been at it for very long when I felt the familiar tingle that announced an enchanter's presence. I took a deep breath and kept moving, trying not to let Soren distract me.
“Isadore,” he said wearily, and I finally gave up and turned around to face him. He stood at the edge of the courtyard, his arms folded across his chest, and he looked at me in bemusement.
“I am practicing on my own right now. You don’t need to tell me how I’m doing everything wrong,” I told him curtly.
"If you were doing everything wrong, you wouldn't be here, but what's actually happening is far more frustrating." He shook his head again. "Everything you do, it's almost amazing.”
"So you think what I'm doing is amazing, yet you constantly yell at me?" I countered dubiously.
“Almost amazing,” he rectified. “And I’m not yelling at you. I am correcting you because you are so near to something truly spectacular that you can almost reach out and touch it, and yet you refuse to.”
I shook my head, and a lump formed in my throat as I tried to swallow back my embarrassed tears. "I think you are seeing something that is not there. I am giving it all I have, Soren."
"I know that you're not. I've seen you give your all." He stepped closer, only a few inches in front of me, and lowered his voice. "You can do it again, and it's my job to see that you do."
“Why does that sound threatening?” I asked.
“Because it is. A little.” He smiled down at me then, and my body flushed with heat. “Start again from the top.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
I raised my hands above my head, beginning the first movements. Soren took a few steps back so he could better assess my full performance. As he watched, he started walking around me in a slow circle, but the truly strange part was that he wasn't saying anything. He didn't shout my name or bark out various corrections.
It made me nervous, and I tried to focus on my breathing and my steps and the magik that tingled in my fingertips. He disappeared behind me, and I kept my movements fluid and clean.
“Stop.” His voice was directly behind me, closer than I thought.
I did as I was told, my hands still up in the air. I didn't turn to look at him, not even when I felt his arm come around my waist and he pressed his palm flat against my abdomen. My breath caught in my throat, an involuntary reaction to his unexpected (but not unwelcome) touch. There was still a distance between our bodies, so his hand was the only thing touching me.
“You need to draw from here,” he said, his voice almost in my ear. “When you start again, I’ll move with you. Do your steps, all your movements, but your focus should be here .” His hand pressed more on my stomach, and his skin felt so warm through the fabric of the light dress I’d worn to rehearsal.
“Okay,” I said.
“Go.”
I began the dance from where I'd left off, and I was surprised that my feet followed through with the choreography because all I could think about was Soren's hand. Magik tingled through my whole body, and my fingertips were soon hot with the intensity of the light that emanated from them.
Soren moved easily with me, and as we danced, he began humming the song he would sing during our conduction. I closed my eyes, letting his enchanting baritone rumble through me, and I felt my body gliding through the performance.
When I finished, I exhaled deeply, and somehow, as my body relaxed, the distance between Soren and me disappeared. He was right behind me, his arm around my waist. I was delighted and light-headed, so I leaned back into him, and he didn't move away.
“Now that was amazing,” he said, low in my ear.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“We’ll just have to figure out how to get you to perform like that without me.”
“How will we do that?” I asked.
“Practice, of course.”
He let go of me, and when he moved away, I almost fell over, but I caught myself just in time.
“Rest up, Izzy,” Soren said, and he’d already started walking back towards the exit. “We have another long day tomorrow.”