A Dangerous Dance [BOOK ONE]

Chapter Ten

AS SOON AS ALTHEA WAS CLEARED of illness from Dr. Cormac, she was summoned to her father.

She knew what it was about. The nerves in her stomach told her so as she walked down to the library. She was still coughing every now and then, but Dr. Cormac had told her that she was no longer in immediate danger. Poor Lenora was still mostly sick, but the rest of the girls were better than before after so many weeks of sickness.

At least their health was better. But the dancing predicament was worse and Althea felt more hopeless than before.

Her father and Locklyn were waiting for her in the King's office, Locklyn facing the windows while her father sat at his desk. She curtsied to both, then stood patiently in front of the desk.

"What is going on, Althea?"

She was taken aback by his blunt approach, "I... sir?"

Nathanael steepled his fingers together, "Would you care to tell me, Miss Althea, why I must repair dancing slippers every night? Why you look as though you are a walking corpse?"

Althea swallowed, fingers curling together instinctively, and said nothing. The king brought his fist down onto the desk in response to her silence, making Althea jump.

"Have you all been sworn to secrecy?" He demanded, sounding truly angry for the first time in Althea's life.

"Something like that." She whispered, unable to raise her voice, ashamed to feel the burning behind her eyes.

The king drew back, surprised by her reaction. How badly she wanted to tell him everything, all of it, so he could take care of them, so they would never have to dance ever again. How badly she wanted him to save the day, to rescue them and hold her in his arms like when she was young.

But she couldn't. And he hadn't held her like that in a very long time.

"What am I supposed to do about this?" He finally said, defeat in his tone, "Would you rather I sit back and do nothing, Althea?"

"No, Sir." Her voice was watery. And she hated the show of weakness.

"Then what should I do?"

And it was the desperation in his voice that made Althea open her mouth, "Don't let us go—" But something stopped her words from reaching her tongue, getting caught up in her throat.

The magic. She couldn't say anything.

Nathanael shook his head when she couldn't finish her sentence. Seeing the pain on his face was worse than a gunshot. And it hurt a thousand times more when Althea knew it was because of her he had that expression.

"Very well." He had regained his composure, "I have written to the other countries. I have issued a challenge; if anyone can solve the mystery of the dancing slippers, they may have your hand in marriage."

"Sir! You can't be serious?" Althea cried, outraged by his proclamation.

"I am very serious, Althea. I shall expect answers soon. I trust you prepare yourselves and your sisters. You are dismissed."

"But, Sir—!"

"You are dismissed."

She bit the inside of her cheek, another outlet besides her tender palms, which were still healing, and stormed out of his office without bowing.

She stormed through the library with hot tears running in streaks down her face, so angry and betrayed and hurt that she ran right into Etherson without even realizing it.

"Whoa, Princess!" He caught her by the shoulders, gently, and Althea stumbled backwards.

Etherson immediately saw that she was upset, and for the first time since she had met him, he used her first name, "Althea, what's wrong? What's happened?"

She choked out a sob and shook her head, "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because he doesn't understand. And we'll just be worse off than before. And I just wish that we didn't have to da—"

The curse held her tongue captive again and she half screamed in frustration.

She didn't want to face Etherson anymore and half blinded by tears, she ran up the stairs to their chambers. She collapsed as soon as she made it into the sitting room, sobbing, and her sisters crowded around her in concern.

But Althea couldn't tell them anything. All she felt was utter despair. Her father's solution wasn't going to fix anything for any of them. And the idea that he was auctioning her off like prized cattle made her blood boil. He was already pushing for her involvement with Etherson and now this?

"Al, what's happened?" Blythe pushed her way through their sisters and took hold of Althea's shoulders, squeezing her a little.

She shook her head and just as suddenly as the tears came, they stopped. She was numb, in shock.

"Father knows something's wrong." She answered, her voice hollow and weary, "He's writing to the other countries to invite princes to solve the mystery, as he would put it. And I'm the prize."

"You can't mean..."

"He's going to marry me off to whoever solves it." She shook her head woodenly, "But it isn't going to work. We all know that they won't be able to figure it out. It's hopeless." Her eyes began to fill with tears again, "I've failed you all. I promised you I'd get us out of this mess and I've failed. I'm sorry."

"No! No, Thea, you haven't failed us." Holly stated firmly, "You've been the strongest of us all. If anyone needs to apologize, it's Father. It isn't right, what he's doing."

"But we brought this upon ourselves." Evelina protested, "If we could just tell him what's going on—"

"Well, we can't!" All of the girls stared at Althea, who rarely ever yelled, "We can't tell him because of this bloody curse!"

Everyone was silent.

She was right, all of the girls knew that. They had never been able to tell any outsider about where they went or what they did, no matter how hard they tried. It was a part of the original contract between her and their mother. No one could know unless they were apart of the curse or had figured it out themselves.

"It's hopeless." Althea whispered again.

And none of her sisters argued.

Because it was true.