Page 83 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

Osa had rubbed her down with a cloth. Her arms were still pink from the scrubbing, but she marveled at the softness of her skin, made new. If only it could be that easy to wash away her thoughts.

Her lids were heavy. The soothing motions of Ina’s fingers as she twirled her hair around a fire-heated brush only made her more drowsy.

"Stop that." Osa slapped Luella’s wrist. Oiled fingers massaged sweet, enticing scents into her skin as the maid knelt over her, red hair like flame around her. "You have a long night ahead of you. It wouldn’t do you well to fall asleep now."

Luella caught her gaze in the mirror. Blue eyes, heavy-lidded and lined with kohl. White hair styled in soft curls, smaller pieces framing her face. The frizz had been tamed by the fire-heated brush. Pale lips, not yet rouged. The same lips that had been touched not by one, but by three.

No.

She blushed, the light pink rouge on her rounded cheeks concealing it.

Four …

Four lips had touched her own.

All of her Vincire had tasted her save for the King.

Osa’s fingers bit into her skin as she finished oiling her arms. The maid stood and made for the wardrobe, opening it to reveal the dress hanging within.

The pure simplicity of the gown stole her breath.

Osa caught her staring and scoffed, angling the door of the wardrobe to keep the dress hidden as she finished fluffing out the skirts.

Ina tapped her shoulder. Luella looked up, meeting the meek maid’s gaze in the mirror. Ina rolled her eyes, staring pointedly at the wardrobe—and Osa, who was just visible behind it.

Luella smiled faintly. "I’ve missed you, Ina."

Ina smiled, a dimple rising on her cheek. There was slight condensation on the mirror from the steam in the room, and Ina raised a long finger to the surface. It squeaked as she let her finger trace the words into the fog: Friend .

A true smile this time—Luella’s cheeks hurt from it. "Yes, friends," she whispered.

How wonderful it felt to have one.

Ina rouged her lips with bright red, reminding her of apples. Luella was urged to stand, and she followed the maid to the wardrobe at Osa’s insistence, the door falling open to reveal the dress.

Her robe was tugged from her body, leaving her in nothing except her underclothes. She shivered in the dim light, feeling exposed… Would she ever feel comfortable in her skin? Would she ever feel like she was not an impostor?

"Remove those too," Osa said, without looking at her.

Luella’s hands fluttered to the hollow of her throat. "W-why? "

At this, Osa turned. Her eyes seemed to fall on every imperfection and shortcoming on Luella’s body. "You need to be pleasing for your lessons tonight. Those modest garments won’t do."

"What lessons?" Luella asked, watching as Osa turned and dug into the wardrobe.

"They did not tell you this either? Well, I suppose even insipid fae can be useful for one thing." Her words were distant as she riffled through the contents of the wardrobe.

Finally, she pulled free two pieces, scant and lacy. The sight made Luella’s face hot. Osa threw them at her chest, and Luella struggled to catch them before they fell to the ground.

"What lessons?" she repeated.

Osa began to turn again, but Luella’s hand shot forward, grabbing her wrist.

"Tell me what you speak of," Luella demanded softly.

Osa jerked her arm from Luella’s grasp. "Your lessons to please the King, of course." A wicked sneer fell upon the fiery maid’s lips.

Luella stumbled back a step. "What?"

Lessons… to please the King?

This must be some trick or cruel joke.

"We don’t have the time for you to snivel like a babe. Dress," Osa snapped.

Luella held the clothes close to her chest, unable to speak.

Osa moved to the vanity, packing up brushes and pots of kohl and rouge.

A soft hand touched her shoulder. Luella found Ina, eyes sad as she gave a slight shake of her head, silently urging Luella to leave it be.

Luella unfurled the garments in her hands, eyes widening at the opaque fabric and lace. Two pieces: lace panties and a mesh brassiere.

Osa looked over her shoulder, and Luella hurried behind the changing partition, removing her underclothes and fitting the new pieces onto her body.

They clung to her perfectly, the panties a thin, white lace, while the brassiere was a soft mesh, thin strips crisscrossing over her back.

The fabric was entirely see-through, her nipples pebbled by the chilled air .

She made a face, wrapping an arm over her breasts and poking her head around the partition, finding both maids absent.

"Hello?" No response. "Ina? Osa?" Luella called. "May I please have my gown?"

The room was still. They had left her.

Carefully, she stepped out from the partition. She tiptoed to the wardrobe and cocked her head as she stared at the simple white gown—perhaps that was why they left. It wasn’t intricate; she would need no help to dress.

Just as her fingers closed around the thin, golden wire used to display the dress and tug it down from within the wardrobe, a caw filled the room.

Luella yanked the gown from the wire and bundled it to her chest, turning to face the open glass doors of the balcony. And there, perched on the stone railing, the raven.

"It is improper to spy." Her voice carried to the raven, and his wings fluttered at her words.

She couldn’t focus; her eyes blurred.

The raven’s caw forced a chill to sweep through her before he flew away. His wings carried him out of sight, the dark clouds swallowing him.

She worried her lower lip. She could not help but feel a strange tingle of awareness at her nape. Just because she could not see him, did not mean he was not watching…

She quickly stepped back behind the changing partition, pulling on the gown. The fabric was cool against her body. Only when she was fully clothed, did she step into the room.

The short train trailed behind her, and her breath hitched at the shadowed figure standing in the middle of her room.

His back was to her. He was without a cloak, wearing a fine suit made from dark fabric.

His shoulders were broad, and his dark hair was styled to sweep away from his forehead.

It was longer at the top and shorn closer to his scalp at the bottom. A dark cowl was pushed below his chin.

Her mouth was dry.

Graves took her in, gaze unreadable, lingering a moment too long. "Vale will like what he sees. "

She swallowed, feeling too small in the sudden vastness of the room.

But do you? she had the sudden urge to ask.

He extended a gloved hand, not his usual leather, but a dark weave. "The King is waiting."

Luella hesitated before taking it, the fabric stiff against her palm. Her pulse skittered, but she rolled her shoulders back, finding her voice with effort. "Let’s not keep him."