Chapter 9
F or the next two weeks, I spent my days in rehearsal and evenings in the courtyard with Soren as my private tutor. As time passed, my performance definitely improved, leading to positive and negative changes. He was yelling my name in rehearsal less and less, but he was also dancing with me less and less.
I found myself missing the feel of his arm around my waist. The proud smile he had when he watched me succeed almost made up for it. Almost .
By the time of our final rehearsal, he assured me that I would be perfect for the Ashoralida. I had to believe him because the other option was terror and failure.
My gown was finally finished with only hours to spare before our first performance. It was a bright yellow-gold, reminiscent of the sun that beat down on the desert. The fabric was semi-sheer, so light and airy. It was taut across my breasts, but it flowed around the rest of my body like a gentle breeze.
Across the bodice, there was embroidery in shades of blue and gray, in stark contrast to the yellow. The patterns were so detailed that they almost seemed real, as if raindrops were dancing across the fabric.
Once I was clothed, a skilled dresser came in to do my makeup and style my hair. They weaved flowers and ribbons through a soft braid, and they put golden highlights on my cheeks and eyes.
After that, I waited with the other muses until we were called, and then Soren led us down to the ballroom.
Our conduction began with Soren singing, his voice low and full of longing as he called for the rain in an ancient incantation. I stood in a circle with the other muses, surrounding Jessalyn in the center. We all had our arms raised towards the sky, and as the music filled out with other instruments joining Soren's vocals, we began to move in unison, and our fingertips cast a warm glow.
As the dance continued, we moved faster. With each step, we called forth the rain, our fingers reaching towards the sky as if to pull the clouds down to earth.
When the music reached a crescendo, I closed my eyes and focused on drawing the magik from deep within me, the way Soren taught. We spun and twirled—I felt the air moving from all the dresses swirling around me—and finally, the music crashed to a stop, and we all fell to the ground in dramatic unison.
The ballroom erupted in applause, and when I lifted my head, the air was still filled with the sparkling illusion of a thousand raindrops pouring down from the ceiling. Through the skylights, I could see that real rain had yet to fall. But King Marcel was sitting on his throne, smiling and clapping, and we did still have two more performances to go.
Once the conduction was finished, the mood shifted from audience to revelry. A minstrel band played in the corner, and there was a sumptuous buffet of fruits, bread, and sweet wines. Usually, I wouldn’t have time for much eating or socializing before Adora would insist that we depart, but tonight, I had nowhere else to be.
Jessalyn invited me to join her and the other muses. With our work done, we had a brief opportunity to let loose. They drank wine and danced together, playfully, without abandon, and Jessalyn took my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor with the rest of them.
As she spun me around, I caught sight of Soren. He walked across the ballroom to talk to the King but smiled proudly at me. I hadn't even had any wine yet, and already, I felt drunk on the night. I wondered (and hoped) that I would be able to dance with him again.
“Lady Isadore Dellamousa?” a royal messenger said, interrupting my merriment with the muses.
I stopped and brushed my hair back from my forehead. “That’s me.”
"I have a message for you." He held up a rolled tube of pale paper bound by a ribbon that shimmered iridescently.
That was the ribbon of an enchanted message, one that traveled instantly over great distances. The sender would write the message using a psychic quill and magik, holding it like a wand and composing it in the air. Then, the sender would chant the destination, and a messenger at the location would be compelled to write it word for word on a special pale parchment.
"This is for me?" I asked in surprise, but when I took it from him, I knew it must be from Adora.
“Did you get an enchanted message?” Jessalyn asked. “Is everything okay?”
"Yes, I'm sure it's just my mother wishing me well since she couldn't be here to see the conduction," I said, but the sick feeling in my stomach sincerely doubted that.
Jessalyn laughed. “I know how that can be. My mother would die if she had to miss one of mine.”
I excused myself since reading a note from Adora in the middle of the dancefloor didn't sound ideal. I waited until I was in the shadows of the ballroom to unroll it, and as soon as I had, I wished I hadn't read it at all.
“Isadore, my dear daughter who I have sacrificed everything for –
I have always trusted and supported you, which is why I allowed you to go off to a faraway and dangerous kingdom on your own. What eased my mind was the knowledge that you were traveling with your oldest friends, both from good families.
So you must imagine my dismay when I arrived at the Ashoralida at the summer palace in Calida, and I was greeted by none other than Briar and Wrenley, your two oldest friends. It took only a quick conversation to learn that they had never been offered the performance in Sudamon, and they knew nothing of your travels or even that you were going alone.
Up until tonight, I would’ve told anyone that my daughter is not a liar, that she is trustworthy and honest. But I cannot say that now. You have broken something that cannot be easily mended, and you have put yourself in a danger that I can only pray hasn’t touched you yet.
It is with that danger in mind, as a single young woman entirely alone in a strange kingdom, that I must command you to come home immediately. Leaving with only one of the three of Ashoralida's performances done will undoubtedly be a dark mark on your record. It will likely lead to worse placements in the future, but that is the unfortunate consequence of your reckless behaviors.
You are supposed to be a muse, Isadore. Someone of impeccable grace, morality, and diligence. Right now, you have none. When you return, there will be many changes to ensure that you get back on the path that you belong on.
I expect you to be on the first stagecoach out in the morning, so I shall see you by the late afternoon, and then we can have a proper talk.
Signed,
Lady Adora Ravenna Dellamousa”
My hands trembled when I reached the end, and I knew I couldn't go back to the other muses. How could I tell them my mother forbade me from finishing the conduction? How could I tell Soren?
At the moment, I was in no mind to talk to anyone. Never before had I felt so happy and light, only to come crashing down so quickly after. I needed time to compose myself and figure out how to handle Adora's demands.
I slipped out of the ballroom without anyone seeing, and I hurried through the palace to the dormitories. Since everyone was at the celebration, they were silent and dark. I went out to the courtyard, sat on the edge of the reflecting pool, and stared at the stars above.
Truthfully, I wanted to cry, scream, throw up, and yell. I couldn't leave (I would disappoint everyone), and I couldn't stay (I would destroy Adora). I had no idea how to reconcile my responsibilities with my wants.
“Why do you always run from a good time?” Soren asked, and for once, I was too distracted to notice the electrical charge I felt in the air anytime he was near.
"I didn't run," I argued, but I didn't trust myself to look back at him.
I was in no hurry to watch any admiration in his eyes quickly dissolve into disappointment and disgust.
"Is something the matter?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he approached.
Because I didn't want to explain it to him, I held out Adora's message. He took it from me and read it silently as I stared at the starlight shimmering in the pool.
“This is from your mother?” he asked after he finished.
"Yes, Adora is my mother. She's upset because she thinks I lied to her, but I didn't. I only said that my friends travel independently, and she misinterpreted that to mean they'd be traveling with me."
"Izzy, it doesn't matter, even if you did lie to her. You are a young woman and a talented muse. You do not need her permission to travel across the lands doing the very incredible thing you were made to do. That's utterly absurd."
“You don’t know Adora,” I replied resignedly.
“I don’t have to. I know you.” He sat down on the edge of the pool, and when I finally looked over at him, I noticed the bottle of wine in his hands.
“I’m sorry, I must be interrupting something. Were you meeting someone out here?” I asked.
"Yes," he said with a laugh. "You. I saw you slip away from the festivities early, and I was afraid you were punishing yourself with more practice instead of celebrating. So I pilfered the wine and brought it here with the plan to get you to have some fun for a change."
“Unfortunately, I think this will have to be a goodbye drink,” I said sadly.
He gave me a stern look as he appraised me, and his dark eyebrows pinched together. "Isadore. I won't tell you not to go because the last thing you need is someone else deciding your choices. I will say that I know the Ashoralida will be better if you are in it, and I would hate to see you leave. Not before you've had a chance to burn bright."
“You really believe that?” I asked.
“Of course,” he replied immediately. “But it doesn’t really matter what I think, does it?”
“It matters to me.”
He leaned forward and put his hand on top of my knee that was tilted toward him. "What do you want, Izzy? Where do you want to be tonight? Tomorrow?"
“Here. I want to be here. In the Ashoralida,” I said, and barely bit my tongue to hold back what I wanted to add, With you .
“Then stay, and this can be your first drink of celebration.” He motioned to the wine in his other hand.
“What do I do about Adora?”
“Send her a message, reassure her your safe, and you’ll see her when you return after the Ashoralida,” he suggested.
"But she'll be so upset." I frowned because the very thought of that made me sick to my stomach. Throughout all my life, the one lesson I had been taught over and over again was that there was nothing worse than upsetting my mother.
“People are upset all the time,” Soren reasoned. “They very rarely die from it, though. Do you actually want to be a muse?”
I thought for a moment, and there was very little in my life that I enjoyed more than the moments that I was truly one with magik and movement. “I do.”
"Good." He smiled and removed his hand from my knee to open the wine bottle.
“I’m sorry about pulling you away from the party,” I said.
“Pulling me away?” He shook his head. “I chose to come after you. If anything, I should be apologizing for bothering you.”
“But you’re not bothering me.”
“And I’m not pulled away.”
With the bottle open, he held the wine toward me so I could have the first drink. "Thank you," I said before taking a long sip of the sweet nectar wine.
“I am always happy to share a glass of wine – or a bottle – with a friend,” he said with a smile.
As we spoke, we passed the wine back and forth between us, and a warm relaxation was already settling inside me.
"Did you ever struggle standing up to your parents?” I asked.
“Not really. But that’s because both my parents had died by the time I was fifteen, so it became a moot point.”
I blanched, embarrassed by my blunder. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
"It was a long time ago, and my older sister Serena took care of me afterward. I miss them, of course, but my life hasn't been all bad since. Although I do find that life is rarely all of anything. Hardly ever all bad or all good, but an awful beautiful mixture of both."
“So you are full of wisdom on top of all your other attributes?” I asked.
“I am a wise and enchanting lush indeed,” Soren agreed.