Grace and Fury (Grace and Fury #1)(6)

Nomi didn’t see this chance as a gift, but Serina did. She wanted more than anything to become a Grace and keep Nomi by her side as her handmaiden.

A girl paused next to Serina, her floral dress swishing delicately. “It’s all quite incredible, isn’t it?”

Serina appraised the girl with a quick glance: soft features, pretty blue eyes, hair a peculiar blond-silver that almost seemed to shimmer in the low light.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Serina replied. She scanned the room again. Surely the Heir was about to make his entrance.

“I’ve never seen anything like your dress,” the girl said. “Did your mother make it for you?” It took Serina a moment to recognize the barb hidden in the girl’s sweet voice.

She smiled benignly. She wasn’t about to admit that her mother had.

“It’s so… interesting,” the girl continued. “In Bellaqua, no one’s worn blue in years.” She cast a glance across the dance floor.

Serina followed the girl’s gaze. It was true; the room was a sea of pinks and purples and yellows. And most of the gowns were full length, some heavy with brocade. More formal than her calf-length, swirling dress and golden sandals.

Serina raised her chin and said with a casual shrug, “I suppose that’s lucky for me, then, seeing as blue is the Heir’s favorite color.” It was a lie, of course; Serina had no idea what his favorite color was. But the flabbergasted look on the girl’s face was worth it. Serina walked away, leaving the girl gaping.

A sudden ripple of excitement passed through the ballroom. Serina turned in time to see the Heir arrive at last, with his brother beside him.

The Heir surveyed the ball, his eyes picking out each of his prospects. Serina lowered her gaze long before his scrutiny reached her. A handful of prospective Graces drifted closer to him. Ines appeared at his side. The girl who’d talked to Serina hurried toward them, but Serina stayed where she was. She didn’t want to cluster in with the others and risk being lost in the crowd. Instead, she made her way to the terrace to watch the last streaks of sunset stretch across the sky. The light was lovely, rich and golden, and she knew it would make her skin glow.

Far below the terrace, the canals shimmered with the pink and orange of the fading light. Serina had heard stories about Bellaqua her whole life. Perched at the southern tip of Viridia, the capital was the royal family’s stronghold and its greatest achievement. The first Superior had designed it to resemble an ancient northern city that had been destroyed in the Floods. Seeing it herself for the first time, she couldn’t deny the city’s beauty; but it also had a cold quality to it—untouchable, removed.

Ines reached her at last. “Malachi, this is Serina Tessaro, of Lanos.”

Serina turned away from the balustrade and dipped into her lowest, most graceful curtsy. As she straightened, she raised her gaze just to the Heir’s lips, which were full and soft in contrast to the hard lines of his jaw. It would be impolite to meet his eyes.

“I am honored to be here and eager to serve you, Your Eminence.” She smiled.

“Serina Tessaro? That’s your name?” he asked, with a gruffness she wasn’t expecting.

She bowed her head gently, just as she’d been taught, like a flower nodding in the wind. “Yes, Your Eminence,” she replied, then shifted slightly so the light would fall just so along her cheekbones.

“Dance with me,” he ordered.

A bolt of nervous heat shot through her. “I would be honored, Your Eminence.”

His hand closed around hers, and he drew her onto the dance floor, where the musicians were beginning a fast, wild song. She spun away from him and then back into his arms. As Serina dipped and twirled, it was impossible to miss the envious stares of the other prospects. Her feet flew through the steps of the dance, and her skin prickled everywhere the Heir touched.

“You’re from Lanos?” Malachi asked when the music slowed. She expected him to move on to the next girl, but he didn’t. Instead he pulled her closer. He smelled delicious, like spun sugar and spiced wine.

“I am, Your Eminence,” she replied. “Up in the mountains. It’s still cold this time of year.”

“You live with your parents? Brothers? Sisters?” By now, they were barely moving, just the slightest sway to the beat of the music. His hands were on her hips, his heat passing through the filmy layers of her dress.

“Parents. A younger brother and sister. My sister’s here with me as my handmaiden, Your Eminence.”

The song ended, and this time the Heir released her. The warmth of his hands remained long after he let go, imprinted against her skin.

She curtsied again, unable to contain her smile. “Thank you for the dance, Your Eminence.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replied. Then he wove through the other dancers and disappeared from view.

As Serina returned to her spot on the terrace, she ran through every sentence, every touch, analyzing her performance. He’d seemed engaged. He’d held her close. She’d kept to the flattering light. For the first time in a week, since they’d begun the long journey from Lanos, Serina felt her shoulders relax. She’d done her job. Done it well, even. Maybe he would choose her.

And if he did?

A slow smile bloomed across her face. He was just as handsome as she’d imagined.