A Dangerous Dance [BOOK ONE]

Chapter Two

SOMEONE HAD CRAWLED INTO BED WITH Althea when she woke late in the night, crying out from the dream she had had.

She wasn't disturbed, however, for it was quite common for her to find at least one sister in her bed before the morning was up.

As she rolled over, she found the peacefully sleeping form of Lenora snuggled up in her side. She should've guessed.

Lenora, although only eight, had always had chronic nightmares. They kept her up at night, stole her of the little sleep she earned, and sometimes had her screaming in the early hours of the morning.

Althea nestled into her sister, wrapping a protective arm around Lenora's waist and pulling her closer. She took comfort in her warm presence.

She smiled into the dark, remembering the first night she had arrived home from the border. All of the girls had been so overjoyed to see her home that that night all of them had crawled into bed with her- all fourteen sisters. It had been quite cramped in the bed, and that was why afterward she had begged the palace carpenter to build her a bigger bed.

Many people were quite shocked to learn that she had so many sisters, but Althea considered herself luckier than most. After her mother passed, they had created such a close bond that none could break it. Althea loved her sisters more than anything in the world.

"Al?" A voice whispered in the dark.

"I'm awake." Althea called softly. A moment later, the bed dipped and Blythe crawled into the quilt on the other side of Lenora.

Her face was illuminated by the ghostly pale moonbeams shining in through the window close to Althea's bed.

Althea had always considered Blythe the beautiful twin. They weren't identical, evident by Blythe's glossy red hair that fell in effortless waves to her waist, but they had the same facial features, and the same eyes in startling, forget-me-not blue. Blythe had the fuller lips, the rosier cheeks, the delicate cheekbones. She wasn't jealous of her twin, Althea just saw it as plain fact.

"Al, what do you think he'll be like?" Blythe asked, softly as to not wake up Lenora. Blythe was the only one who called Althea 'Al,' a personal nickname that all the girls knew was only Blythe's.

Althea snorted, "I could care less what he's like, Bly. I want nothing to do with him."

Lord Etherson arrived in the morning, and all the girls were told that they had to greet him.

Blythe rolled her tired eyes, "I wasn't talking about him, Al. I was talking about Father."

Althea sighed and gently brushed an auburn curl away from Lenora's face before answering quietly, "I'm not sure, to be frank. The war... I know it changed me. I'm sure it must've changed him."

Althea had enlisted when she was sixteen, the legal age to sign up. There wasn't any written law prohibiting a woman to join the Army, especially when they were under wartime laws. But her enlistment had been met with many obstacles, but Althea had fought hard to get to her position of captain.

She had seen so much in the Army, but some things she would never tell her twin or any of her sisters. The memories were ones that she wanted to keep buried.

"I hear you cry out sometimes," Blythe said, her voice so soft that Althea almost couldn't hear her, "in your sleep. You think I don't notice, Al, but I do. And I know that some nights you don't sleep at all. We all see it."

Shell-shock, they called it. Ghosts and memories of her time in the Army haunted her almost every night, spurred on by how dangerous their nightly activity was getting.

Althea hoped her smile was convincing in the dark, "I'm fine, Bly, I swear it. Besides, I have much more to worry about than myself at the moment."

"I see you limp sometimes, as well." Blythe refused to drop the subject, "I know you try to hide it, but I think your leg gives you more trouble than you let on."

Althea had injured her right leg severely about a year into her tour. It had been so bad that the doctors had almost considered amputation, but Althea had protested so strongly that they didn't do it. The damage had been quite extensive in her muscles and nerves, causing problems with her movement.

Most days, she could ignore it. Certain days, however, her leg was so bad she could hardly walk. If it wasn't for her sheer stubborn will, she would've used a cane. Instead, she dignified herself by walking with a slight limp to conceal just how bad it was.

"It's fine, Blythe. Just a little stiff." She left out the part that at the moment, it throbbed horribly.

Her twin sighed, as though she was tired just from arguing, "I'm afraid that I won't recognize him, Al, when he comes."

"I think that we'll have much more to worry about then Father, Bly." Said Althea, thinking of the ruined dancing slippers and how much money went into the repair of those. Their Father was bound to find out about it, and he would demand answers that none of the girls could ever give.

They lapsed into silence, listening to Lenora breathe.

"I wish Mother had never gone to her."

Such a venomous statement from her mild twin surprised Althea. Never, in all they had gone through, had she ever heard her sister talk ill of their mother.

"Oh, Blythe," Althea whispered, horror-struck, "you can't mean that."

A tear slipped down Blythe's cheek, but she sighed, "No, you're right, I don't. But it's... it's so hard."

Althea reached over and took hold of Blythe's hand, "I know. We'll get through, somehow."

"But we'll never be free. I'm not sure how much more the girls can take, Magda is starting to refuse to dance and Iris is in tears by the end of the night."

Althea clamped down hard on the inside of her cheek, forcing the pointless tears away.

"I told you I would protect all of you. I don't intend to break my promise. We'll get through, I promise you."

But Althea wasn't sure she believed her own words. The last time she promised someone something, she ended up holding his hand as he died.

How could they break free when they couldn't say anything?

She didn't have the answer. And Althea felt more helpless than she ever had in her life.