11. Rahzlyn
Rahzlyn
Training to dance under strict instructions proved more difficult than I’d anticipated. I always enjoyed dancing, but that was without someone watching my every move, making me second-guess everything.
I’d spent the night prior with Kole, wanting to prolong my return home for as long as possible before facing the news of my betrothal. As soon as the sun rose, I’d raced back to Serpentine and used the matron’s coins for reentry.
It irked me how she refused to share her name, as though I were beneath her. Too unworthy to know it. Kole likely knew it, though we hadn’t said much back at his place. He seemed almost as excited as I was about this new opportunity, unable to keep his hands off me and my hair.
He’d always had a strange fixation with it.
“See how I did this?” Yarah prompted me from an upside-down arch. Long, dark curls tumbled to the floor. Her jeweled top barely covered her large breasts that aimed up at the cavernous ceiling.
“See? Yes,” I noted with my hands braced on my hips. “Understand? Not even close.”
It was difficult not to question how in the stars I was even remotely qualified to dance in her presence, let alone in her stead.
“Watch again.” Yarah danced atop the main room’s central stage with such fluid grace that I couldn’t help but gawk in admiration. I’d spent more time ogling the poor woman these past few hours than studying her movements. Her isolated hip circles, drops, and shimmies were so precise and effortless.
Serpentine’s main hall had been cleared of customers save for its workers who all wore white garments, masks, and the creepy-eyed bracelets required for everyone.
Soft music and distant voices sounded from the tunnels that led to other chambers where Serpentine remained in operation.
With no windows to track the time, patrons could live here indefinitely.
“You can bend your knees slightly, but you’ll need to work on strengthening your stomach.” Yarah gracefully unwound herself from a backwards arch. Turning to me, she patted her long, bare torso. “This will do all the work for you. I’ll show you some movements you can practice at home.”
“Thank you,” I said, my heart hopeful. I could do this. I would do this.
“Don’t thank me yet. The matron demands absolute perfection for this role.”
“Right. The matron.”
Detecting my ire, she said, “She’s harsh because this routine is a large draw for most of those who find their way into Serpentine. We’re renowned across the realm, not just in Gemini.”
“We?”
“You signed a contract, right?” Yarah cocked her head. “Didn’t you read it?”
“Not thoroughly enough, it seems,” I mumbled. “What are we called?”
Yarah’s mouth moved, yet she didn’t make a sound.
She touched her throat and pursed her lips in concern.
“You should have read that contract more carefully, though I supposed even in writing they wouldn’t be able to say outright what we’re called…
assuming they didn’t demand anything in return from you? Or force anything on you?”
“Besides a signature on a contract? No.”
Yarah peered at my bare feet. “Strange, they haven’t left their mark on you yet. I suppose it’s only a matter of time. For both of us.”
“What does that mean?”
“How did they rope you into all this?”
“Rope me?” I shook my head. “They offered me a dancing job, and I took it. What about you?”
Yarah’s eyes narrowed on my hair. “The matron found me in Leo’s royal city working a private… gathering for some nobles. She recruited me to dance at Leo’s Serpentine. When I proved myself, she sent me here.”
“There are other Serpentine locations?”
“There’s one in every territory. Gemini’s is the most revered,” Yarah explained. Her eyes held mine. “For some reason.”
Something about her tone gave me pause—as though she knew exactly what that reason was and had no intention of sharing it.
How odd.
“So. Leo, huh? I thought I detected an accent.” I scanned her person, wondering where she hid her travel stone.
I’d learned of stones capable of translating any language for its wearer, but she wore no jewels apart from the bracelet.
“Impressive that you speak Geminian so well. Usually only the wealthy can afford such an education.”
Pahn had been an exception, hailing from a family of historians with little wealth except that of knowledge.
Yarah smiled, her first one all morning. It eased the weird tension from moments ago. “Just because I danced for nobles doesn’t mean I didn’t come from a family of them.”
“Oh.” I gaped in surprise. “Apologies, I didn’t mean—”
“Dancing isn’t exactly considered a respectable profession, at least not in a masculine kingdom.
My desires did not meet my family’s expectations of me, and so they disowned me.
It was hard at first, especially as I sought to make a living for myself.
My only regret is the distance that my decision put between my sister and me.
” Yarah glanced away. “Since moving here, all my letters have gone unanswered.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”
Cocking her head to the ceiling, she sighed. “Three years now since the matron found me. As twins, we’d never been separated for more than a day.”
My heart ached at her words that I understood so well. “I have a brother, also a twin. We’re completely different people, but I’d be lost without him.”
Yarah studied me for a moment. “You have a soft heart,” she said, the edge in her voice returning. “Shield it while you can.”
Beneath our masks, our light brown eyes regarded each other.
There were some differences in the bone structure of our faces, but her hair was as full and dark as mine with reddish undertones.
Our builds were similar, both of us having tapered waists and flaring hips.
From afar we could pass for sisters—especially with masks.
“What does our hair have to do with dancing?” I asked her.
Yarah’s face softened into something akin to pity. “I almost envy how oblivious you are. Like me when I first took over.”
I ignored her back-handed insult. “Who was the woman before you?”
“I only studied her for a week before she… left.”
“Left?” I questioned. “To go where?”
“They said she ran away with a rich nobleman. Most likely someone who paid for frequent private audiences.”
“Are we to do that?”
“Oh yes,” she murmured, her attention snagging on a worker who swept the floor. The matron had assured us that there were always security details, like guards, on duty to ensure our safety. “Very wealthy clientele, brokered through the matron, will pay for a dance.”
My mouth grew dry. “Just dancing, or…”
“You’ll learn soon enough.”