THE DANCING GIRL

Chapter 3

THE hours went by without them realizing, and it took Haqiya coming into the library to fetch Noor for her to stop reading.

She barely managed to wave goodbye to Amir before Haqiya pulled her out.

"Don't rush!" Noor complained, struggling to keep up to the other girl.

Haqiya gave her a glare. "We have a performance. And you aren't even close to ready! You are so lucky Nazrat hasn't found out, or I swear to Rayan, you would be dead—"

Noor grimaced, bearing with Haqiya's frustrated rant until she reached her chambers. There, she escaped to get ready. She scampered into her room, making her way through the red-robed dancers, and pulled the curtains shut.

She took out their night-time performance dress, glaring at the gauzy red fabric. Easily the most revealing costume they had, she hated it. It was used so often now, compared to before. She put it on quickly.

Thankfully, she'd made a few alterations to the top and to the slit in the skirt at the bottom, saving about two fingertips of skin. She put on her jewelry and did her hair, stopping to look at herself in the mirror once.

She would be the perfect background dancer to Nazrat's elegant beauty in the eyes of all the nobles tonight, of course. All they'd be looking for was skin and curves, and they'd find that in all the girls and boys.

Most of them despised this costume for that very reason, just like her. It meant roaming eyes and sometimes roaming hands, the thick scent of liquor and smoke hanging over them, but not as oppressive as those hungry gazes.

Nazrat had it worst, being the main dancer. Noor would always admire her icy confidence. She'd never be able to stand up and dance in front of all those nobles alone. Nazrat did it, and didn't let her disdain show.

"Noor!"

She flinched at Haqiya's shout and walked out quickly, joining the others. "I'm ready, I'm ready!" She hissed, meeting Haqiya's eyes.

"Finally." Haqiya sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "You just barely made it today, you know that?"

"I know, I'm sorry," Noor said, looking down.

"You can't lose track of time so often!"

"It's only when I'm reading, you know that." Noor protested.

"Which is most of the time." Haqiya deadpanned.

Noor didn't reply.

Luckily, Haqiya was stopped from scolding her again by Nazrat, telling all of them to line up. Noor kept her mouth shut as they walked to the king's private durbar this time, where only select nobles would be allowed in.

Nazrat turned to them from the front of the group. "You all know what to do. By the grace of Paishi, we will do well tonight."

Noor saw her swallow before she turned. The guards opened the doors, and they filed in, the bells and beads on their dresses tinkling with every step.

She made a quick glance around the durbar, taking in as much as she could. The Maharaja wasn't there, his throne empty. On either side, again, were the Rajkumars. Their faces were stony, neutral. Unlike the others around them, they held on glasses at all.

Sher Butnam was there, visibly intoxicated. His father, Sher Rakim, at his side, slurping down another gulp. It was a smaller group of nobles, consisting only of the most powerful ones.

Noor clenched her fists, looking away from the Shers. She glanced at Rajkumar Vikram again. This time he wasn't looking at her. She looked at Nazrat, standing fearlessly at the front of the room, and struck her pose just as the music began.