Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(63)

The music swelled like a tidal wave slowly rising, and Zariza lifted her arms a little higher, getting ready for the first section. I did the same.

And then we danced.

Almost immediately the music ramped up from a slow, sonorous waltz to a fast, lively reel. Zariza quickened her movements, and I did the same, never taking my eyes off her, not for a single second.

We both rose up on our toes and lifted our arms. Then, just as quickly, we snapped our arms down and rocked back on our heels in unison. The sounds of our bare feet touching down rang out like two swords clanging together, and the battle began in earnest.

That first loud, resounding slap of my feet on the floor unlocked my mind, and all the movements and steps of the Tanzen Falter came rushing back to me. I had always loved dancing, and despite the high stakes, I was determined to fully enjoy this moment—and give everyone here a show they would never forget.

As the dance went on, my smile grew more genuine, and I lost myself in the rise and fall of the music, the ebb and flow of the steps, and the twists and turns of my arms, hands, and fingers flying through the air.

Up, down, right, left, twirl, twirl, twirl . . .

Point the right toe, then the left . . .

Then hop, hop, hop, hop . . .

We moved from the first section of the dance and into the second, then the third, then the fourth. The one good thing about the Tanzen Falter was that it was much shorter than the Tanzen Freund, only seven sections instead of thirteen, although the pace was much, much quicker. My endurance was exceptional, given all the long hours I had spent training and sparring with Serilda over the past several months, but even I found the dance to be extremely tiring.

Sweat quickly beaded on my temples and gathered in the small of my back underneath my gown. My cheeks felt hot, as did my feet, which started throbbing from my slamming them down onto the floor so many times. But I didn’t care that I didn’t look cool, queenly, and regal. No, all I cared about right now was winning. And not just to secure my alliance. I wanted to win for me, and for Xenia too. Because I had put the time, energy, and effort into learning the dance, and I wanted to show my excellent teacher that I had thoroughly mastered her lessons.

The longer we danced, the more I realized that I just might be able to triumph after all.

Somewhere around the middle of the second section, Zariza’s smug smile slowly started to wilt. Somewhere around the third section, it vanished altogether, and by the fifth, it had been replaced with an intense frown as she concentrated on her own steps.

She was sweating, just like I was, but I could also smell her surprise. She hadn’t thought that I knew the dance so well, or that I could keep up with her, or that I could match her move for move for move. She’d expected this to be an easy victory, but I was proving her wrong with every slap of my feet, twirl of my body, and slice of my hands through the air.

Zariza might not be smiling anymore, but I certainly was, and I even started humming along to the music, although no one could hear the soft sounds but me. Well, I thought no one could hear, but Zariza’s amber eyes narrowed in anger. Her morph magic let her hear me humming, something she didn’t have the breath or energy to do, and it further frustrated and infuriated her.

As the dance went on, the Ungers started enthusiastically clapping in time to the quick beat, just as they had the night I’d performed the Tanzen Freund. I laughed and kept dancing, letting the rhythm of the music sweep me away from everything else. All my worries about Maximus and Maeven. All my concerns about Bellona and her people. All my small, lingering fears, doubts, and insecurities about whether or not I was a strong queen, a good queen, a true Winter queen.

At this moment, there was nothing but the music and the dance.

Zariza also kept dancing, although her steps were now half a second slower than mine, which were still perfectly in sync with the music. My smile widened. That half a second might not seem like much, but it was going to trip her up at the very end.

And it did.

The seventh and final section of the dance was the fastest and hardest one of all, with more sharp toe points, elaborate hand movements, and prolonged twirls than all the other sections combined. I moved through the very last section, my feet flowing, my arms floating, and my body flying through the patterns, and Zariza’s slight lack of speed finally caught up with her.

She started to twirl around, but her toes weren’t in exactly the right position, and she wobbled, just a bit. At first I didn’t think that her slight hiccup was even noticeable to the crowd, but gasps surged through the ballroom, all of them coming from the Ungerian contingent. The Ungers loved dancing just about more than anything else, so of course they had spotted her small mistake. Zariza growled in frustration, while I kept going, dancing and humming as though I hadn’t seen or heard anything but the music.

That was the final twirl, and the dance ended a few seconds later with Zariza and me facing each other again, our arms and bodies in the same position as in the very beginning.

The music faded away, but Zariza and I kept staring at each other. This time, I smirked, knowing that I had won. She glowered back, but a sheepish expression slowly crept over her face. She curtsied to me, much lower than before, acknowledging my victory, then straightened. I returned the gesture with a low, respectful curtsy of my own.

Zariza waved to the crowd. Everyone politely clapped, but the Ungers weren’t nearly as enthusiastic as they should have been. They had seen her mistake, even if everyone else hadn’t.