The Assassin’s Dancer (Twelve Dancing Princesses #1)

Chapter 1

AMARYLLIS

Ballet is much better than princes. Ballet will never call you ugly, or force you into a marriage. It won’t say your breasts look better in your portrait, or pinch your backside when it thinks the guards aren’t looking.

Ballet can’t get you pregnant.

Not that I’d ever let a prince put a baby in me. It’s not possible anyway – not unless Father agrees to the match and you marry them first.

I’ve had the talk; I’m not an idiot.

So when Father announced that a new prince would be visiting tomorrow, I couldn’t wait to throw on my dance gown. Out here, beneath the moon, the stone floor of our dance circle glows silver under my pointe shoes. My violet tutu skirt flutters around me.

I barely notice my sisters as they trickle in through the garden gate – first the older girls in their colourful tutus, then the younger ones in their dainty pastel gowns.

Together, all twelve of us step and turn, step and turn, step and—

“Dahlia, your fouettés are much too fast again.” Blossom’s scolding makes me fall out of my arabesque.

I shoot her a look before noticing Dahlia twirling by the hedgerow. My third sister spins effortlessly, her long black hair whipping around her crimson tutu.

“The musicians have left us for the night, and now there is no music,” she sighs. “So perhaps, dear Blossom, my fouettés are in fact too slow?” Grinning, she twirls in a way that makes her appear more like a whirlwind than a dancer.

The move makes a few of the girls giggle, but with the moon so high in the sky, I can’t find it in me to laugh with them.

It’s getting late. Father will want us inside soon. Any second now, a guard will burst through the little iron gate that separates us from the rest of the palace grounds and demand that we return to our bedchambers.

I can tell some of my sisters have noticed the time too. The younger ones pass nervous glances at the gate as we leap and glide across the stone floor. Even the dainty flowers surrounding our circle begin to sway restlessly. Still, while the gate stays closed, we stay dancing.

At least until the moon crosses midnight.

“Stop that.” Blossom glares at her spinning sister.

“And you’ll completely ruin your shoes if you keep stomping out of your turns like that.

With your clumsy technique, it’s a wonder they even last a few hours.

” She folds her arms over her pink tutu.

“You know it’s not easy for me to keep getting you new pointe shoes so often.

Everyone else makes theirs last a week.”

“Oh, hush, Blossom, you should be grateful,” Dahlia sings, finally slowing her whirlwind spin.

“The more I stomp, the more time you get to spend with your handsome shoemaker boyfriend. What was his name again?” She grins, swinging her arms in a mockingly lovestruck way.

“Oh, that was it… lovely, lovely Gilbert.”

I snort as the rest of us erupt into a fit of laughter – all apart from Blossom, whose brown cheeks redden.

“He is not my boyfriend!” The second-eldest’s jaw tightens. “And you keep his name out of your big mouth. Why, if Father were to hear, he’d—”

She’s cut off by the abrupt sound of Dahlia scraping the tip of her shoe along the stone floor, over and over again.

“Why, you disrespectful little—”

Sensing someone’s about to get their hair torn out, I grab Blossom’s wrist before she can do any damage. “That’s enough now.” My tone silences the group.

It’s not easy being the eldest of twelve princesses.

Even without being the heir to the throne, there are far too many responsibilities.

And considering none of our mothers are around, I’m the next best thing for most of the girls.

Still, at least my sisters respect me – or at least mostly respect me.

Dahlia rolls her eyes while Blossom just shrugs off my hand.

“Let’s talk of more pleasant things,” Heather suggests.

“Yes, like the prince arriving tomorrow!” Liliana, our youngest sister, chimes in.

Shaking my head, I turn to face her – but then my brows shoot up. I can’t believe it. She’s grown again!

Messy brown ringlets frame her face while her yellow dance gown swings high above her knees and digs into her shoulders.

“You’re fourteen,” I remind her with a tight smile, making a mental note to call for the seamstress tomorrow. “So the only princes you should be getting excited over are the ones in your fairy tales.”

Liliana scrunches up her nose, but before she can argue, our conversation is swept away in a deep sea of prince-talk. Our once peaceful clearing is now loud enough to wake the palace.

“I wonder what he looks like?” Gilia calls out.

“He’ll be handsome, of course. All princes are,” Juniper giggles.

I can’t help but scoff. My sisters have been lucky enough to avoid princes these past few years. Usually, Father only introduces them to me – and sometimes Blossom – but for some reason, tomorrow’s prince has been given permission to meet all of us.

I can’t say I share their excitement. Of the many princes Father has tried to set me up with – and there have been many – I can’t remember one who had manners, let alone a handsome face.

Tomorrow will just be another awkward garden date for one unlucky sister, followed by an even more awkward rejection.

Although I dread the day when Father won’t accept our rejections. I’m fully aware of the number of princesses in this realm who have little choice in who they’re married off to, and someday that same fate will fall upon us.

At least for now, we have a choice.

For now.

“He’s probably very rich… I bet he’s bought us all presents to try to impress us,” Dahlia adds. “Think of all the tutus he’ll buy for us!”

I scoff again. I’m about to quieten the group when a sharp ringing cuts through the chatter. Nobody seems to react, and at first I think I’m going insane – until Liliana tugs my hand.

“Did you hear that?” she asks, but I can barely make out her voice as another sharp ring cuts through the air. This time, the others notice too, as their conversation fades to concerned whispers.

“What was that?” Heather hisses.

“Look!” Blossom shouts, pointing up at the sky. “The moon… it’s huge!”

Following her finger, my mouth falls open. The moon is shining brighter than I’ve ever seen before – so bright that it lights up the entire garden.

Like a huge pearl, it looms above us. It seems to be getting bigger too, and faster, the halo of light surrounding it growing brighter and brighter until it’s almost blinding.

I wince. But it’s only when the ringing turns into a powerful screech that the realisation hits me.

“That’s not the moon!” I scream, before an intense whoosh of wind throws me to the floor, and all the air rushes from my throat.

Ami…

Harsh white light floods my vision. I can’t see anything, but I can hear something. A voice?

It’s like it’s singing in the back of my mind.

Princess Amaryllis…

The voice sings again as I panic, fumbling around on the ground. Around me, my sisters are screaming.

For Princess Amaryllis, the gift of true sight.

“Who are you?” I want to say, but when I open my mouth, I can’t seem to breathe. Fear grips my chest. For a moment, I think I’m dying – until I see a strange flash of red, and my breath returns along with my vision.

Immediately, I force myself up. Everyone else is still on the floor, groaning, but alive. Thank the Stars.

Panting, I search for any sign of what just happened.

Was it some kind of assassination attempt?

An archer with a huge, glowing white arrow that knocked us all off our feet, but didn’t want to kill us?

Unlikely.

“Ami?” I hear a faint cry from my right. Dropping to my knees, my heart sinks as I see Liliana clutching her knees to her chest.

“Are you alright?” I search her small frame for injuries. “Were you hit by it? Does anything hurt?”

Slowly, she shakes her head. “I-I’m fine… I think…” She keeps her eyes on the ground. “But I think I heard something.”

I gasp. “You heard a voice too?”

Her brown eyes flick up to meet mine, but we both flinch at the sound of the iron gate swinging open.

“Princesses!” Several guards charge into the clearing, drawing their weapons at the sight of all twelve of us on the ground. “We heard screaming. What happened? Is anyone hurt?” The head guard glares at me as I stand.

“We don’t know exactly,” I explain. “One moment we were dancing, and then there was a huge glowing light.” My breath catches before I add, “Some of us heard a voice too.”

“A voice?” The guard scowls, then glances around the clearing. “Get the princesses back to their rooms,” he barks to his men, “and then we’ll search the grounds.” He turns back to me. “Do not fear, Princess Amaryllis. If there’s anyone out there, we’ll find them.”

I nod, though for some reason I doubt they’ll have much luck.

“Come on.” I lean down to help Liliana up. Hesitantly, she rises to her feet while the guards help the rest of our sisters.

“What did you hear?” she whispers, her hand gripping mine. “From that voice?”

“I’m not sure,” I whisper back, guiding her towards the open gate. “Something about a gift, and they said my name too.”

“So strange,” she breathes. “I thought I heard it say my name instead.”

“We must’ve imagined it then,” I decide.

Liliana glances away. “Maybe,” she says, before passing through the iron gate and pulling me along behind her.

It’s funny. For once, I’m glad to leave our dance circle and return to my bedchamber.